So every Sunday evening I'm going to
post something I've written. This is an old one, but next week I'll post a more
recent one. This is one of my favourites so I decided to post it here. Here it
is, enjoy:
Silence. There’s nothing but silence screaming in my
ears. The sky shatters into glass pieces around my bare feet, keeping me
trapped in my own personal hell. I squeeze my eyes together, and hug my legs,
not caring about the wet grass I’m sitting on. My chest keeps aching, as if it
was ripped open for enjoyment. Sporadic thoughts shriek in my head, but nothing
makes sense anymore.
I can’t remember the last time anything made sense.
You break through the ringing in my ears, ask me if I’m
coming with you, and when I finally open my eyes it’s as if the chains you
bound me with have loosened, tempting me to escape. I breathe. I breathe again.
It keeps getting easier.
“I’m going.” With that I grab my bag and run with all the
energy that is possibly in me. The fury in my veins pushes me forwards as I
rush past the trees, the grass, and the people out by the lake. The familiar,
everyday surroundings are nothing to me now, merely smears of colour as I turn
another corner. A hand grasps at my wrist and I barely hear the words, “are you
okay?” as I shake them off. I need to escape.
And then I’m there; my unknown destination. The place you
won’t know to look for me, the place I didn’t realise I was headed to. My old
dance studio. I drop my stuff and walk up the stairs, into the deserted room.
The place is empty, but it’s my old haven. The old scents come back to me, and
memories dance around me. These are memories of before I knew you, before you
existed in my world. The sound of ancient laughter, music and oblivious
immaturity echoes around the room.
I stand for a minute, searching for something. Searching
for the comfort this place used to bring me, but it’s long gone. Gone with the
old friends, locked in that box of memories along with my old self. I feel like
a rock is stuck in my throat as I back out of there. I never realised how much
could change in just a couple of years. Or how much I would miss what I had
left behind.
Now I head back home. My footsteps are slow, pondering.
The trees and houses define themselves, the blur of bodies become people, and I
regain my sanity. The path is straightforward; my home is within sight. I can
almost feel my blankets wrapped around me and the sleep I desperately crave
falling upon me. I sigh as I turn the corner to my front door. And then I see
you. You’re sitting on my front steps, waiting. Waiting for me?
You’ve heard my footsteps and you look up, hurt flashing
in your eyes. You get up and make your way towards me, reaching for my hand. I
try to get around you, to finish the journey that you began for me, but your
tight grip on my arm holds me back.
Tears are forming in my eyes, and the end seems to drift
away, but I’m not letting it go. Not this time, you can’t keep doing this to
me. I pull away from you again and again, but you’re too strong. I want to
leave. I don’t want to be here. Let me go. Let
me go.
“Rose.”
All it takes is one word, the simple murmur of my name,
and I’ve forgotten it all. Again. I turn and look at you, your grey eyes taking
mine for a journey of their own as you wrap your arms around me.
Silence, once again, here in your arms. But this time,
it’s as if it’s whispering sweet nothings to me, and now I’ve found what I had
lost in my forgotten haven.
But is it enough? The shadow of doubt creeps over me,
engulfing me in its truth.
I hear familiar words falling from your lips, “Forgive
me?”
I pull myself away to look into your eyes, but what I
used to feel has disappeared with my journey. My heart doesn’t race, no smile
falls on my lips, and the urge to make you happy disintegrates. The monotonous,
parasitic cycle of what we were has finally hit me.
“No.”
Your arms fall limp at your
side and I walk away alone, never looking back, moving forward, into a new
journey.
