In Memories We Trust

Her feet barely brushed the gravel as she swung back and forth on the swing, both hands resting in her lap and her head leaning against one of the chains. She drew a shaky breath into her lungs, trying desperately to control the rage and fear beating in her heart. She looked up, watching the moon carefully with wide blue-gray eyes. The gentle rocking of the swing slowed to a stop and she sighed, only to be shoved back into reality by the blaring car horn, which was followed shortly by a high-ish manly voice, but the sweet voice was ruined by the harsh words it was spitting out. Desperately the girl jumped from the swing set, skidding in the deep gravel of the playground. She soon found her footing and jumped out of the rocky pit, landing on both feet to continue her flee from the young man pursuing her. The cold air wrapped around her and caressed her as she made a break across the park for the highways. After just a few tense moments of running, the girl found herself walking along a busy highway, dodging the circles of light the streetlamps created on the pavement. A speeding silver car caught he corner of her eye and upon recognizing it she launched herself back into a run, turning into the first side streets and alleys she saw. She blinked rapidly, but despite her efforts to hold them at bay, the tears flowed freely from her eyes, blurring one object into another. One minute she was sprinting down a dark alley, the next she was sprawled across the sidewalk, a gash in her leg and the rain pouring down.

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Emily’s small hands grasped my shoulders through the thin fabric of my t-shirt as she shook me gently, her concerned blue eyes peering closely into mine. She shook me again to make sure I was awake, then sat back down beside me, her gaze not leaving my face the entire time. “You were screaming…so I woke you up.”

“…uh…did I say much?” I asked. When she wasn’t being spastic and absurdly hyper, Emily’s speech was quick and to the point; she never cared to beat around the bush.

“Nothing important. Mumbles here and there…” she trailed off, but I knew there was something she wasn’t tell me. She didn’t need any prodding to let out the truth, I need only wait a few moments for her to spill all to me. “You were saying his name over and over again…”

“Oh, is that all?...” my face fell; I’d been hoping I’d said something that would make the crazy dream make a little more sense.

“You sounded scared when you said it, like he was hurting you.” I couldn’t help but avert my eyes from her face, there was so much she didn’t know that I couldn’t risk her finding out.

“He wasn’t, no one was…just a bad dream,” I replied, choking on my words a little. I pulled her wrist towards me and lifted up the sleeve of her jacket to glance at the time. “We’d better go soon, school starts in half and hour.” Emily only nodded, but I could see the questions in her eyes. We started back down the street, shoulders hunched up the cold and hands shoved deep into our pockets. There was so much she deserved to know about me…and you…before you died, but I don’t think, even given the opportunity, I would be able to tell her anything.

The entire school day was wrought with disaster, and I found countless office referrals and detention slips shoved into my hands over the course of the day. I blinked at the people who so obliviously brushed past me, hardly seeing what was going on. All I could think about was how much happier I could be without these worldly concerns.

I let myself into an empty house and sighed in relief; there’d be no angry and half-drunk father to deal with today. I walked to my room and let my messenger bag slip from my shoulders by the door. I closed the door behind me and turned up the volume of my stereo; half-hoping to drown the world out with angsty lyrics and guitar solos.

Hours later I heard the heavy slam of the front door and the thudding footsteps of Dad as he walked to my room. His heavy fist pounded on my door as I shrank back into the corner of my room, closing my eyes and praying for release from this torturous world. Taking my silence to signal that I wasn’t home, he left the door of my room to return to his own, no doubt grabbing a six pack from the fridge as he went.

You are all I can think about, all I can ever think about. I wish you hadn’t gone when you did; it’s times like these when I need you. Times when I see the razor and think I can make it all better right now; when the razor seems a merciful way to go.

I picked myself up off the bed and sat in the middle of my floor, my legs crossed and my hands caressing the silver blade. Light glinted off the shiny metal and I sighed; I knew you never liked it when I did this to myself when you were here, and you couldn’t like it any better where you are, but I like it.

I’ll spare you the details, but now my wrists ache more than I thought possible. But this pain can never cover up the pain of my heart, and I wished I’d known that before I thought of slitting my wrists. Your name is etched in blood on my wrists, and with a nail on my heart.

I may be looking, but I’m not seeing
And I may be listening, but I’m not hearing,
And I may be touching, but I’m not feeling.
I may be alive, but this definitely is not living