For the Rest of Our Lives
Nineteen (2007)
"Wanna hear a joke?" Sally asks me. Her eyes are wide, a little less dead inside, and there is a little smile present on her face. I smile a little in return.
We are laid upside down on my bed, lights off, and the new glow in the dark stars my mom bought are plastered over the ceiling (with help from my dad earlier). They glow vibrantly now, but every so often we have to shine a flashlight up at them to make them glow again.
"Sure," I reply. Her smile widens a little.
"Okay, it's a bad one," she warns me. "Like... Bad, but funny."
"Okay, I'm ready for it," I tell her as I nod. "Go for it."
"Alright," she says. "If you're sure. Why did Sally fall off the swing?"
"Wait, that's your name," I say. Sally covers her mouth and giggles.
"I know, just go with it," she says. "Why did Sally fall off the swing?"
"I don't know, why?" I ask. Sally hides behind her hands and giggles some more.
"Because she had no arms," she says when the giggles die down. She's still barely managing to contain her joy for this joke though. "Knock knock!" My eyebrows furrow.
"Who's there?" I ask.
"Not Sally!"
And she's rolled away from me, holding her sides and laughing so hard there are tears streaming down her face. I chuckle a little, the grin on my own face growing. Even if I don't find the joke that funny, the fact that she's got this little moment of joy for herself makes me feel- like I'm floating. I want her to be happy like this always.
So I join in on her laughter then, and roll with her. I grab at her hands and tickle her sides, and she laughs even harder. I've got her pinned now so I can tickle her a little easier through her resistance.
"No!" she says through tears and laughter. "No, stop!"
And then she throws more force into her voice; and I can hear the fear. She struggles harder and captures my wrists in her hands. She's gotten a lot stronger and is able to push me away.
"Stop; stop, Luna!" she cries out, no longer laughing. I immediately roll off of her. I give her plenty of space on the bed.
We both just stare up at the ceiling. Her breathing takes forever to slow down. Eventually she reaches her hand across the bed and our pinkie fingers interlock.
"I'm sorry," I whisper. I regret it so much. Taking away that small moment of happiness.
"It's okay," she whispers back. But I know it's not. She grasps my hand fully and squeezes it. I squeeze gently back. And I wonder now if Sally will ever truly be okay ever again.
We are laid upside down on my bed, lights off, and the new glow in the dark stars my mom bought are plastered over the ceiling (with help from my dad earlier). They glow vibrantly now, but every so often we have to shine a flashlight up at them to make them glow again.
"Sure," I reply. Her smile widens a little.
"Okay, it's a bad one," she warns me. "Like... Bad, but funny."
"Okay, I'm ready for it," I tell her as I nod. "Go for it."
"Alright," she says. "If you're sure. Why did Sally fall off the swing?"
"Wait, that's your name," I say. Sally covers her mouth and giggles.
"I know, just go with it," she says. "Why did Sally fall off the swing?"
"I don't know, why?" I ask. Sally hides behind her hands and giggles some more.
"Because she had no arms," she says when the giggles die down. She's still barely managing to contain her joy for this joke though. "Knock knock!" My eyebrows furrow.
"Who's there?" I ask.
"Not Sally!"
And she's rolled away from me, holding her sides and laughing so hard there are tears streaming down her face. I chuckle a little, the grin on my own face growing. Even if I don't find the joke that funny, the fact that she's got this little moment of joy for herself makes me feel- like I'm floating. I want her to be happy like this always.
So I join in on her laughter then, and roll with her. I grab at her hands and tickle her sides, and she laughs even harder. I've got her pinned now so I can tickle her a little easier through her resistance.
"No!" she says through tears and laughter. "No, stop!"
And then she throws more force into her voice; and I can hear the fear. She struggles harder and captures my wrists in her hands. She's gotten a lot stronger and is able to push me away.
"Stop; stop, Luna!" she cries out, no longer laughing. I immediately roll off of her. I give her plenty of space on the bed.
We both just stare up at the ceiling. Her breathing takes forever to slow down. Eventually she reaches her hand across the bed and our pinkie fingers interlock.
"I'm sorry," I whisper. I regret it so much. Taking away that small moment of happiness.
"It's okay," she whispers back. But I know it's not. She grasps my hand fully and squeezes it. I squeeze gently back. And I wonder now if Sally will ever truly be okay ever again.