Today I Will

Today I will leave the house. I will cut down that front door if I have to. I need fresh air, I need to see the sky. I don’t care how long it takes me, today will be the day that I do it.

I can’t spend any more time locked up inside this house. Nobody’s keeping me here, and I’m rotting away. Lily always said I’d go mad one day, and maybe I have, because I woke up and all I could see were my bones. Rotting yellow bones curled in, all around me.

Is that all that’s left of me?

Today I will apologize. To everybody. I’ll call mum up and tell her that it’s not her fault that Tom left. He packed his bags and walked the morning he turned eighteen, and I thought it was all her fault, I blamed it all on her, but it’s not her fault. It never was.

I’ll walk in the sunshine, I deserve that much. This house is not a home, it’s a prison. Maybe I’ll buy some bread and feed the ducks. Tom always loved the little river in the middle of town, past all the shops. The one right next to the church. It was the only place I’d ever seen him properly happy. Today I will forgive him, one piece of bread at a time. I will make my peace, with him, and with myself.

Today I will find my skin. I know I’ve left it around here somewhere, under piles of unfinished final essays. Somewhere in this house is a peach sack, just my size. Today I will find it, and I’ll put it on. I’ll wear my skin again, because I’m not just bones.

Today is the first day of my life. The clock starts as soon as I open that door, from here to forever.