Who Are You?

He was there, he was right next to me. “Laura,” it wasn’t a question, more of a conviction that set my chest on fire. The way he said it, made my mouth go dry. I turned to face him slowly, my eyes meeting his steadily. “You know, that’s pitiful, right?” His question was cold; the directness shot a shiver up my spine. No, not pitiful. “Yes,” my one word answer was all I could offer him. I didn’t look away as he moved closer, his eyes growing softer. “Then, why?” His question was obviously rhetorical, but I felt the need to answer anyway. Why not? “I don’t know, really.” My heart rate refused to increase as he reached for my arm, holding it tightly by the elbow. He squeezed tightly, pulling it out in front of me. I didn’t flinch, but my chest burned in contained agony.

His fingers dug deeper into my skin as he examined the tired skin. My eyes stayed evenly on his face, my muscles still despite the urge to flee. I wanted to pull my arm back and run, I wanted to disappear into thin air right at that moment. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He hissed at me threateningly. His hand clamped down when I finally tried to pry my arm free. My controlled and forced calmness suddenly broke, and my chest tightened painfully. Nothing is wrong with me, “Let me go,” my voice shook with emotion, and I felt my throat tighten with tears. He looked at me; glared at me. In that moment, I swear I was transparent, I swear he could see right through me. I swear he could see what I was thinking; see the images dancing across my mind.

Logically, I knew he saw nothing except the confusion of the million emotions I had raging in my head at that moment. I swear that he saw what I saw. Him and I, walking down by the lake; scooping up lumpy frogs. Him and I sitting outside the donut shop numbing our minds with coolattas. Lord knew that the shop held a whole new meaning now. Us on his row boat, reading in the warm sun. Him and I playing at the little park; him pushing me on the swings. Finally, after minutes of staring into his eyes, I saw the color. What was once a bright, vibrant blue; now was a terribly intense, cold gray.

I could feel his breath hit my face as he exhaled, and I had the unbearable urge to lean forward and kiss him. As if that could make him what he used to be. Like that could heal our broken hearts. He grabbed my shoulder with his other hand and shook me, hard. “Would you snap the fuck out of it? These marks, they make you crazy. You’re crazy.” He spat the words at me like I was incapable of understanding what he was saying. You can make me better, you know. Keep me safe, stay with me. I stayed quiet, too fixed on his eyes to look away. He growled at my lack of response and backed me up until I was against the wall. “Who are you?” I croaked out, unable to believe that this monster was the same warmhearted creature I used to spend my days with.

He barked a harsh laugh and let go of me, backing away. I slumped forward a little bit, happy to be free of his strong hands. “You are crazy.” He repeated the words again. More and more people have been telling me this in the past few months. I wasn’t, though. I just needed… something. I’m not sure what I needed, but I needed it. Did that make me crazy? Was I imagining these feelings inside me? Was I imagining what these people were doing to me?

“Fix me, then,” I challenged. He looked up again, standing mere inches away from me. His eyes seemed gentler now, kinder. He sighed, his lips opening; and I let myself go. I lunged forward much to quickly, and captured his lips with mine. The move was bold, much more bold then I ever was when it came to things like this. I knew though, that this was the only way out of things like this. Submission. Do what needs to be done. He kissed me back, roughly.
“You are crazy,” He mumbled around the kiss, “This isn’t going to make it go away.” I bit his lip to shut him up, because I already knew. I just didn’t care anymore. I wasn’t searching for resolution or peace, not anymore at least. Under different circumstances, I would have asked him what “it” was. My pain? My anxiety? The feelings were mine, but I sure as hell didn’t put them there. My old self kept reminding me that, but my new self didn’t care.

Did you know 98% of suicides are… the words rang in my mind as I let him push me on the bed. Most suicides are committed by means of strangulation… I wanted to inform him, but I felt like he wouldn’t hear it anyway. I was screaming the words, but I don’t think anyone ever heard. I was still alive, I still had a chance. Did they not hear? Or did they not…

…“Laura?” I looked over at my younger companion sitting next to me. “You okay?” Her question and worried eyes grounded me, “Yes,” I even offered a reassuring smile. I looked back to my right, an empty feeling filling my stomach. There he was, three years older and two feet taller. He teased the other girl sitting at the table. The noise of the cafeteria seemed almost muted, though this particular room was never quiet. He must have felt my eyes on him, because he turned and met my gaze. His eyes met mine, and I saw that they looked blue again. It warmed my heart a little. He smiled slightly and my heart stuttered a little as his eyes seemed to gray over again. And I swear he knew what I was thinking.

Who are you?

I suppressed the urge to kiss him, and instead I smiled back.

More importantly. who am I?