Last Exit
.....
A letter came in today for me. It was from New York. Immediately, I had a bad feeling. It didn’t look like good news the way the envelope was plain white with my address on it in perfect italic style, probably written by a much older woman, and the fact that the envelope looked to be empty had I not discovered a small lined paper simply folded in half.
It was a beautiful night too, the way the moon was almost complete, yet shinning strongly against the dark sky. The wind had gone to sleep, but occasionally moaning here and there ever so quietly. I was sitting on the beach at Rabbit Beach in Sicily with a little fire going. It was almost midnight so the beach was thankfully deserted.
I had moved to Italy almost three months ago. It was never part of the plan to travel anywhere, let alone move to a different country, miles away from my homeland. Life was funny sometimes, how it worked in mysterious ways. I didn’t regret it. But I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Karla Vera, someone I barely knew who gave me new perspective of life.
I was a witness to a rape. I didn’t think of it much anymore, although that didn’t mean it was forgotten. The first few weeks were hard for me because I kept replaying it in my head, trying to change the scenario every time, but failing miserably. I could hear her scream, her agony a constant reminder of what she was feeling that rang in my ears for weeks, which sent shiver down my spine. The fact that I stood there frozen unable to dial three important numbers.
Her name was Karla Vera.
I was walking home from work late that night, and I didn’t live too far. It was a twenty minutes walk, tops. From the other side of the road, I was passing by an old children park that was closed for due to construction. I wasn’t scared to walk alone, especially at night. But that night changed everything. I heard the loudest shriek ever as thought it was being tortured. I turned in the direction of the scream and saw two silhouettes on the ground underneath the slide.
Someone else heard her for the next thing I knew sirens were heard and the guy made a run for it, whether he was finished or not. Like I said, that night changed everything because I was scared. Not for the reasons that I could be next, or that he saw me when he took off, but for the very reason that I knew whom he was. Karla wasn’t his first, and I was the only person who could put my best friend’s brother behind bars.
My best friend and I stopped talking after her brother was found guilty.
So, I got the hell out of dodge and never looked back.
I wasn’t in a hurry to open the letter, knowing it was bad news, my fingers absently lingering over the envelope. I stared at the white paper, unsure if I should open it or not. Before I could decide if I was ready, I suddenly found myself in a flashback.
I was sitting at the bus terminal waiting to board. That day was the last time I ever saw Karla.
“This is the slowest getaway ever,” she said. She stood in front of me with her dirty black boots and a hand attached to a luggage.
“If only I could drive,” I said, staring the bland floor. Long story short, too many DUIs, license got suspended. I spent a lot time rebelling during my teenage years.
“Where are you going?”
“Anywhere, but here.” I couldn’t bear to make eye contacts, so I continued to look at the floor knowing its reflection wouldn’t taunt me.
“It’s hard, isn’t it? Trying to move on, but forever haunted,” she said as she sat down in the seat next to me.
“Sometimes I wish I hadn’t seen anything.” I knew I shouldn’t say something like that, but it was the truth.
There was a moment of silence.
“I don’t blame you,” she said suddenly.
I had spaced out, something I did often these days because being faded hurt less, that I had almost missed what she said.
“What do you mean?”
“I get it why you didn’t want to step up at first. I know you didn’t make the call.”
For the longest time I was reluctant to say anything because of how it would affect my friendship with my best friend, but she was delusional if she continuously thought her brother was at all a good person. I couldn’t stand by her side, knowing I would be standing by his side by association. I thought going to the stand, as a witness, would be a wake-up call for her. Instead, she walked away.
We sat in silence for a few minutes, each with our own thoughts. We were running out of things to say, though I’d thought I’d ask anyway.
“Going somewhere?” I nodded at the luggage.
“Figured I’d get away. Staying here isn’t going to do any good. I have an aunt in New York.”
“Good,” I said quietly. It didn’t matter if she heard me or not.
“I wanted to thank you before you left.”
“Why?” I said confused and braced myself when I made eye contacts.
She looked at me before focusing on her hands that were rubbing together.
“Sometimes the truth is scary. We become consumed by fear. Afraid of what we already know, but don’t want to, and what we’re afraid to found out. So we drown ourselves in silence, praying the fear will disappear if we limit ourselves to the truth. Then again, humans have the tendency to forget that they’re not alone.”
Alone. I had been alone for a while, trying to escape everything that reminded me of home, but right now, even if it was just for a minute, I didn’t feel so alone.
“I might never be at peace, but at least I can breathe a little easier,” she added.
I chuckled darkly, “When does it ever get easy?”
I didn’t have a best friend anymore, whose family took me in when mine abandoned me many years ago. I had no one left now. I was truly on my own with a burden that might never be lifted.
“Easier… but never easy.”
I thought about what she said for a minute, and with that in mind, I finally admitted to what it’s been weighing over me for quite some time. “I’m so lost.” It felt good to say it out loud, and to a stranger no less. There was no concern, or judgment from familiar faces.
“You and me both,” she said quietly.
I added, “I’m tired after all this time…”
“Let it go,” she said.
She was looking straight ahead. I wasn’t sure if she was talking to herself or me. A few feet away were a pregnant woman hugging her significant other tightly as she cried in his chest. He was wearing an army uniform. Looked like he was being deployed.
“How?”
“What’s the one thing you’ve always wanted to do?”
I didn’t hesitate. “Drive a boat in Italy.”
She chuckled quietly. “Unexpected.”
“Call it a childhood dream,” I shrugged.
“Then go. Don’t think about it. Just go. If you just end up dwelling on the past, you’ll miss out on your future. Who knows, maybe I’ll meet you there.”
I looked at her. Back then I didn’t know what she really meant.
“A new beginning,” she smiled sadly, as she looked at me.
An announcement was made over the intercom. My bus was now boarding. I didn’t say anything else. I simply nodded and left. I was truly ready to leave everything behind.
She never did meet me in Italy. She committed suicide about a month later. She left a note, however, addressed to me. It wasn’t until I got here that I finally got the letter.
I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you there. I tried to move on, but this is something I would have to work for it to get pass it. Only, I am nothing, but a broken soul. I wanted to see you again, in Italy. I could barely get up in the morning. There was no letting go of this one. I’m not weak for giving up. I’m not a coward for taking the short cut out. I don’t want to be scared anymore. This is just me moving on in a way that I can finally be at peace.
I crumpled the piece of paper and tossed it in the fire. I watched it burn until it disappeared turning into ashes. The last thing that was left by her disappeared, but the words of wisdom forever engraved in my mind.
“Easier, but never easy, right?” I murmured as I stared into the distance, the water completely still. I didn’t cry because I didn’t feel anything, but simply because I understood her. Somehow, instead of this letter bringing tears, it gave me a little bit of peace as well.
It was a beautiful night too, the way the moon was almost complete, yet shinning strongly against the dark sky. The wind had gone to sleep, but occasionally moaning here and there ever so quietly. I was sitting on the beach at Rabbit Beach in Sicily with a little fire going. It was almost midnight so the beach was thankfully deserted.
I had moved to Italy almost three months ago. It was never part of the plan to travel anywhere, let alone move to a different country, miles away from my homeland. Life was funny sometimes, how it worked in mysterious ways. I didn’t regret it. But I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Karla Vera, someone I barely knew who gave me new perspective of life.
I was a witness to a rape. I didn’t think of it much anymore, although that didn’t mean it was forgotten. The first few weeks were hard for me because I kept replaying it in my head, trying to change the scenario every time, but failing miserably. I could hear her scream, her agony a constant reminder of what she was feeling that rang in my ears for weeks, which sent shiver down my spine. The fact that I stood there frozen unable to dial three important numbers.
Her name was Karla Vera.
I was walking home from work late that night, and I didn’t live too far. It was a twenty minutes walk, tops. From the other side of the road, I was passing by an old children park that was closed for due to construction. I wasn’t scared to walk alone, especially at night. But that night changed everything. I heard the loudest shriek ever as thought it was being tortured. I turned in the direction of the scream and saw two silhouettes on the ground underneath the slide.
Someone else heard her for the next thing I knew sirens were heard and the guy made a run for it, whether he was finished or not. Like I said, that night changed everything because I was scared. Not for the reasons that I could be next, or that he saw me when he took off, but for the very reason that I knew whom he was. Karla wasn’t his first, and I was the only person who could put my best friend’s brother behind bars.
My best friend and I stopped talking after her brother was found guilty.
So, I got the hell out of dodge and never looked back.
I wasn’t in a hurry to open the letter, knowing it was bad news, my fingers absently lingering over the envelope. I stared at the white paper, unsure if I should open it or not. Before I could decide if I was ready, I suddenly found myself in a flashback.
I was sitting at the bus terminal waiting to board. That day was the last time I ever saw Karla.
“This is the slowest getaway ever,” she said. She stood in front of me with her dirty black boots and a hand attached to a luggage.
“If only I could drive,” I said, staring the bland floor. Long story short, too many DUIs, license got suspended. I spent a lot time rebelling during my teenage years.
“Where are you going?”
“Anywhere, but here.” I couldn’t bear to make eye contacts, so I continued to look at the floor knowing its reflection wouldn’t taunt me.
“It’s hard, isn’t it? Trying to move on, but forever haunted,” she said as she sat down in the seat next to me.
“Sometimes I wish I hadn’t seen anything.” I knew I shouldn’t say something like that, but it was the truth.
There was a moment of silence.
“I don’t blame you,” she said suddenly.
I had spaced out, something I did often these days because being faded hurt less, that I had almost missed what she said.
“What do you mean?”
“I get it why you didn’t want to step up at first. I know you didn’t make the call.”
For the longest time I was reluctant to say anything because of how it would affect my friendship with my best friend, but she was delusional if she continuously thought her brother was at all a good person. I couldn’t stand by her side, knowing I would be standing by his side by association. I thought going to the stand, as a witness, would be a wake-up call for her. Instead, she walked away.
We sat in silence for a few minutes, each with our own thoughts. We were running out of things to say, though I’d thought I’d ask anyway.
“Going somewhere?” I nodded at the luggage.
“Figured I’d get away. Staying here isn’t going to do any good. I have an aunt in New York.”
“Good,” I said quietly. It didn’t matter if she heard me or not.
“I wanted to thank you before you left.”
“Why?” I said confused and braced myself when I made eye contacts.
She looked at me before focusing on her hands that were rubbing together.
“Sometimes the truth is scary. We become consumed by fear. Afraid of what we already know, but don’t want to, and what we’re afraid to found out. So we drown ourselves in silence, praying the fear will disappear if we limit ourselves to the truth. Then again, humans have the tendency to forget that they’re not alone.”
Alone. I had been alone for a while, trying to escape everything that reminded me of home, but right now, even if it was just for a minute, I didn’t feel so alone.
“I might never be at peace, but at least I can breathe a little easier,” she added.
I chuckled darkly, “When does it ever get easy?”
I didn’t have a best friend anymore, whose family took me in when mine abandoned me many years ago. I had no one left now. I was truly on my own with a burden that might never be lifted.
“Easier… but never easy.”
I thought about what she said for a minute, and with that in mind, I finally admitted to what it’s been weighing over me for quite some time. “I’m so lost.” It felt good to say it out loud, and to a stranger no less. There was no concern, or judgment from familiar faces.
“You and me both,” she said quietly.
I added, “I’m tired after all this time…”
“Let it go,” she said.
She was looking straight ahead. I wasn’t sure if she was talking to herself or me. A few feet away were a pregnant woman hugging her significant other tightly as she cried in his chest. He was wearing an army uniform. Looked like he was being deployed.
“How?”
“What’s the one thing you’ve always wanted to do?”
I didn’t hesitate. “Drive a boat in Italy.”
She chuckled quietly. “Unexpected.”
“Call it a childhood dream,” I shrugged.
“Then go. Don’t think about it. Just go. If you just end up dwelling on the past, you’ll miss out on your future. Who knows, maybe I’ll meet you there.”
I looked at her. Back then I didn’t know what she really meant.
“A new beginning,” she smiled sadly, as she looked at me.
An announcement was made over the intercom. My bus was now boarding. I didn’t say anything else. I simply nodded and left. I was truly ready to leave everything behind.
She never did meet me in Italy. She committed suicide about a month later. She left a note, however, addressed to me. It wasn’t until I got here that I finally got the letter.
I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you there. I tried to move on, but this is something I would have to work for it to get pass it. Only, I am nothing, but a broken soul. I wanted to see you again, in Italy. I could barely get up in the morning. There was no letting go of this one. I’m not weak for giving up. I’m not a coward for taking the short cut out. I don’t want to be scared anymore. This is just me moving on in a way that I can finally be at peace.
I crumpled the piece of paper and tossed it in the fire. I watched it burn until it disappeared turning into ashes. The last thing that was left by her disappeared, but the words of wisdom forever engraved in my mind.
“Easier, but never easy, right?” I murmured as I stared into the distance, the water completely still. I didn’t cry because I didn’t feel anything, but simply because I understood her. Somehow, instead of this letter bringing tears, it gave me a little bit of peace as well.