Day One. Without You...
“I’m so sorry”
“Stop saying that!”
Another slap to my cheek
Another punch to my ribs
Another gasp escapes my lips.
Even though my body begs to not be moved.
I look up, into those dark eyes. Wild eyes. Lonely and angry eyes.
I’m numb. Nothing hurts.
When I look into those eyes. I understand.
Those tears falling down her face, I want to catch them.
I know I’m weak. My body feels fatigue from the punches and screams vibrating in my eardrums.
I can feel myself giving out. But nonetheless I reach out, touch her cheek. Not bruised or bleeding like mine. I look into her eyes.
Bloodshot from crying. While mine are dry.
And say:
“It’s all I can say. I’m sorry, I will keep saying it until you believe me.”
Then it’s dark. I’m free.
‘Beep! Beep! Beep!’’
Her hand slams on the light blue box. She sighs and turns to stare at the ceiling. It’s quiet. It never used to be this quiet.
I never liked the quiet before. And I still don’t.
I turn to my right and see the time. Early, so early... day one of this life. It’s not a new life. Feels like a replacement of the one that ended last week. Has it been that long? The police have left us alone.
This is the first day I will go back to school.
First day to see their faces. For them to see my face. I don’t know what type of face I will make. What face they expect. It angers me how much I care what they will think. I don’t want them to see me and then see her.
They will see me walking alone, when she was always by me. Standing by me and me by her. I don’t want her to be made a spectacle. When she is not here to defend herself.
I look back at the clock once more to find that ten minutes have passed. I have thirty minutes left until I have to leave.
I get downstairs: hair done and teeth brushed. Look at our dining table then the kitchen. No one is yelling for me to hurry. No one is telling me to move or eat faster. There is no one.
Just me. And for now I’m glad. For now.
~~~
The drive wasn’t bad. No idiots on the road yet.
Finding a parking spot was the hard part. I am usually never this late to school. Sure the bell hasn’t rang. But I would always be early.
We would always be here early.
I finally found one a ways from the entrance. No rain today. I will just have to make sure to get to school earlier tomorrow.
The walk is not the same. Didn’t expect it to be, but then again. Never expected it to be so loud. I can hear everyone. My earbuds are in and my music turned up, but I can still hear them. Their footsteps like claps of thunder and their laughs like nails on a chalkboard. It takes everything in me, to keep from cringing at the sound. I just turn my music up and walk faster. I can feel my backpack weigh me down every step.
I stop by my locker. It was as uneventful as ever, thankfully.
Stepping out of the locker hall I look up.
“The sky looks sad”
Yeah it does. I turn left and am met with a cold gust of wind. Winter is still here. Wonder when spring will start up again. Never really paid attention to that.
*Ring**Ring*
I open the door to first and head to my seat. Second to the left in the first row. Set my bag down. Then look up gingerly. I didn’t want to but I needed to. It needs to feel real. I need to know it really happened.
The desk is empty. She isn’t here. She would race me to the desk. She would always win.
She’s gone.
No
No
No
She’s dead...
~~~
I feel a hand on my shoulder and turn to see her. Then not anymore. Her face vanished and replaced with the one of my English teacher. Concern on her face. But not pity. I knew she wouldn’t show it. Even if she did pity me. She knows I wouldn’t want to see it.
“She’s really gone huh?”
I nod. Then look back.
“Don’t dwell on it. She wouldn’t want you too.” I nod again.
I can’t speak. I thought I would scream or yell. Maybe even cry. But I feel nothing, it’s like I’m on autopilot. I turn to Mrs. Queen, I muster up a smile and take my seat.
She takes the hint. She’s an English teacher they understand feelings and queues more than anyone.
Another clock on the wall. Another time. This time the clock seems to be going by too slow.
I’ve heard that when you mourn the minutes feel like hours and the hours feel like days. I didn’t believe it. But seeing the clock and how long it takes the long hand to move.
I now believe it.
People have been staring at me all day. I can’t blame them. I would do the same. But still... be a little discreet about it. I smirk to myself, then catch myself and my face goes back to plain and bland. No emotions. Not today.
She would meet me by my locker t was just two away from hers. We would walk to the parking lot together.
I need to stop thrumming of that. It’s over. I’m on my own.
I bump into a few people by the time it takes me to get the parking lot. I don’t say anything. Don’t look up or flinch. I just walk faster. I need to get out of here. Now!
As if god had sensed it a day of sunshine came out and everyone looked up and stared. Seeing as all year it has been either snowing or too dark and gloomy to care about the weather. Everyone stops and stares. They start to talk about it. Like it’s a natural phenomenon.
I take the opportunity to make my way to my car. Thankful and the smile comes back to my face when I reach my car. This time however I don’t bash myself about it. Seems the sun has put me in a better mood as well
“I wish the sun would come out more.”
I shiver and my whole body starts to shake. While I try to contain my tears. I can’t have this happen again. My mind needs to be stronger but it refuses to grow a thicker skin.
“She’s gone. She’s gone. She’s gone. She’s gone. She’s gone.”
I repeat that over and over again until the tears stop and the shaking stops and my breathes come out even. I look at myself though the rear view mirror.
“Don’t cry. Your too pretty to cry”
“I’ll be your shoulder to cry on”
“I’m always here for you and you for me right?”
“You’re not here!”
Your not here. You liar.
