Sid and the Last Five Years

Light danced on the bridge of my nose, down my long neck to my freckled shoulders until it drifted off my fingertips. Condensation covered the windows, as the sun eagerly shone through the small droplets of water and lit up the room. I exhaled; a cold, fresh breath of fog released from my mouth. A genuine sigh of relief escaped my dry lip. I dug my teeth into my lips although I was not nervous, bad habits never cease once they are introduced.

'You have scars on your wrists.' He knew what those scars were from; he knew. 'They're really quite gross. Who would want to be around someone with those white slashes along their wrists?'

It was such a miniscule part of me, yet it was the foundation to who I was then, who I am now.

I want to tell someone what happened on that night of October fifth. I don't want the pity, nor do I want the attention, but I crave to be free. I was a snowman that never melted, and sat stationary in his place for all four seasons, just to see the recreation of other snowpeople, their lives and ice-cold creations progress then wither, but I never changed. I was a caterpillar that so patiently waited to turn into a butterfly, so I could end this caterpillar life and shed this cocoon, but I never did. It was like waiting to die, was a chore- I had the will to live, the must, the want- because after all, it is human instinct- but I could not feel. Nothing ever moved, my life was a movie put on pause.

Don't eat me, don't eat me.

'You should be begging for your stupid life at my feet. You're ugly, you're worthless. Why do you think your father went off the deep end? Don't lie to yourself. He didn't give a shit about your stupid mother, or your stupid brother either. He did care about you, and you let him down. You weren't extravagant, you were normal.

'You had the potential to do something good and all you ever did was bring out the acryllic paints and whisk the day away with horses and rainbows. You could have been something good, but you failed him- You failed yourself. He expected more, he couldn't expect more from the retard, because of course- What is there to expect? You were a disappointment. You ARE a disappointment.

'Go run off like your mother, but actually fulfill what you'll start- Be permanent. Permanently. Leave, be gone, end your shitty life, because what is there to want? You say you want, but you don't try.

'You say it's human instinct, but you don't really think you're human do you? Because what's human about you- You haven't anything that all the others do. You inflicted those scars, you're the reason you're dad was insane, you're the reason Adam's not normal, you're the reason your Mom left, you're the reason for everything- Don't you see? Or are you blind too? Because you're also to blame for that. You're a monster, just like me Elli, you're a monster.'

*

Ms. Andreq waltzed around the room in her tall, thin- yet practical, heels. I surveyed her every move as if she were a terrorist in an airport. Her feet buckled when she stood still, her mouth slightly fell open when she was attentive, her eyebrows would raise when she was excited, followed by another fall of her mouth, she fidgeted uneasily at the buttons on her ironed teal shirt, wiped the excess threading off her long, coral skirt, she tapped her foot anxiously although there was nothing out of the ordinary. She was a fascinating person, and if there were anyone I could have ever been, I would have wanted to be Ms. Andreq. Not because she was pretty, not because she was funny or nice, but simply because she was Ms. Andreq.

-What are the good qualities in yourself? What are the bad qualities?-

I tapped my pencil against the desk engraved with many a high-school lovers names, and tapped my foot to the tune to the non existent radio. Ms. Andreq's blonde hair fell in loose ringlets around her freckled face; her face was the one that never grew from that of an eleven year old's. She curved each letter on the board with such perfection and exhaled a deep breath as she did so. The question seemed to elongate itself as if it were an endless road leading the end right back to the start.

We had been down this road before.

Rewind and fast-forward; rewind and fast-forward.

Writing prompts had never been my strong point, I avoided them at all costs as if they were a strange looking person in a convenience store. Of course I took the paper Ms. Andreq handed out, but all it would ever be were empty barred lines forever waiting for words to be printed on them, to get a sweet taste of life, but they would always be hungry.

My friends, my foes, they all surrounded me, their bodies making a wall that would slowly cave in on my own. I felt sweaty, and compressed, confined in a small, tiny room wanting to push myself out. Shoving my pencil to the edge of my desk, I heaved in air; in and out. Ms. Andreq stared at me for a long moment, our eyes meeting each others and then I fell to silence once more. Episodes were not allowed at public school, they may have been socially acceptable for someone like Adam, but for someone like me, someone who actually looked like they could function correctly, you were considered the freak.

She waited for a moment nearly as long as we had the connection, until she finally took step after step to reach my block of a desk. I ran my fingers along the cool railing which connected the seat to the writing table, and exhaled for a sense of a placid, serene environment, although I could feel the Hell knocking on this painted Heaven. I felt the hot breath I had felt in my ear when I had been locked in the nurse's office, the same nurturing breath that made me melt like sweet, milk chocolate over a burner. “Are you alright, Elli?”

“I just... Yeah, I'm fine.”

“You know you haven't finished the last six prompts... You know that, don't you Elli?” Her eyes fell to disappointment instead of the tiring distraught she had faced a few seconds previous to then, and her long nails tapped the nude plastic desk. “Everyone has good and bad qualities in themselves, what do you see in you?”

I see more bad than I do good.

Sweat dripped on my forehead, and I cursed my anxiety quietly under my breath, loud enough that Ms. Andreq could have possibly heard it, but lacking enough noise so none of the others in the room could ever have.

Everyone in the room was the same to me, of course they were all different on the outside, but on the inside they were all the same; they were neutral. They didn't struggle throughout their lives, each morning they would grab a glass blue and white bowl with a beautiful heart design and pour some sugar coated Frosted Flakes in, and flush the milk exactly on top of that; they would go to school in their expensive winter jackets that their mother's bought them because they had a caring mother who loved and cared about their health; they would take off that same jacket and place it into their locker, where they would meet their large posse of friends and reminisce about old times and inside jokes; they would continue on to class laughing their joyous laughs, and their day would either be good or bad; but they would get over it; tomorrow was a new day for them; they didn't have a Sid.

“It's just a writing assignment, Elli,” she assured me with a fake smile plastered along her face. “Everyone else does theirs, and so can you.”

*

WRITING PROMPT 1.
BY ELLI CARVALHO.

-What are the good qualities in yourself? What are the bad qualities?-

I don't see the good qualities often, they're usually hiding under my bed, afraid of the bad qualities in my closet. People say they have skeletons in their closet, whatever that means, but my closet could top anyone's.

It's dark, and I rarely ever go in there. It's empty except for one load.

Sometimes I feel like this closet is all my problems, not the closet itself, but what's in it, that LOAD.

People say they have problems, people are diagnosed with problems, sometimes people even drive away from their problems and leave money on the table to warrant what they've done. I can't run away from my bad qualities, it doesn't work that way, doesn't anyone see?

I'm desperate for something to come along and just make me happy, or at least not scared to go home. I want someone to convince me I'm not that monster he tells me I am, and I want someone to like me even if it were just for a short time.

When I write, I ramble.

I can't help what I think.

My physical appearance wouldn't be bad if it weren't a constant reminder of what had happened.

And the inside of me wouldn't be rotting away if I thought it could still be preserved.

Don't you see Ms. Andreq? I can't write. I'm not a good writer.

All I do is complain.

Don't you see that I really want to try and school just so I can float on by?

Float by like a little duck in a pond on a rainy day.

It rains here all the time. And if it does, why does my house burns every night, this hot fire.

Please give me an answer to these questions, because I'm not a religious person, and I don't have family who cares about these questions. I can't answer them. Is there even a solution?

I don't think about suicide; but that doesn't stop Sid.

Don't you realize how screwed up I am inside?

So, what are the bad qualities? I just suck at life.

What are the good qualities? It's obvious there's none.