The Day They Disappeared

I remember every detail of the day my life truly changed. It wasn’t a change like when you move from the town and house you grew up in or a change like when your best friend switches schools. It wasn’t the change of growing up, going through puberty, and developing my own image. It wasn’t the kind of change that everybody knew about. But at the same time everybody knew, they just didn’t know it was me.

I remember feeling the cool beads of sweat forming on every inch of my body as the summer heat burned me from the outside in. I remember how gentle the rare gusts of wind felt as they ran through my long hair and blew strands all about me. I remember the sound of sneakers smacking the pavement as children ran to their parents on their porches from down the street as the ice cream truck turned the corner at the bottom of the hill. I remember the loud and obnoxious screeching of the old metal swings at the park near my house. I remember the sound of bike tires running over gravel and I remember the laughter that rang out from the two girls who were pedaling quickly to get up the small hills.

Above all, I remember the very moment I finally snapped. The moment when I crossed the line between my fantasy and my reality was when my life changed. I never wanted to be this person. I never wanted to have this brain inside of my head that contained all the thoughts that it did. I never wanted to be messed up. I never asked for this. I never wanted any of this, I promise.

My parents were good. They were so good. They took me in when I had nobody. They cared about me and loved me when nobody else did. I was far too young to remember anything but the people I grew up to call my mother and father and brother. If you want an answer to your question about nature or nurture then I am your prime example, your main argument, your proving point. How could somebody be raised so wonderfully surrounded by love, hope, faith, and God be so misguided? I think maybe it’s just my mind and for that I am deeply sorry. You see. I tried so hard to stop at first but then there was no point. The only way this would end was in death every single time. I could have gone for so long without being caught, possibly until the day I died.

If you’re reading this now then I’ve failed. It was me. The whole time. You’ll find every bit of evidence you need in my diaries and in the potted plants on my windowsill. Crazy right? Who would have guessed? Nobody I suppose. Except for one person.

You should have stopped me sooner. The proof has always been there.

I’m sorry.