I loved to watch the people beneath me as they scattered along the sidewalks lined up below me in utter chaos, completely unaware of the eyes set upon them. I tried to tell myself that they would be able to keep my mind away from anything, everything and nothing. Pretending that I was just like them became a hobby for me in my free time, soaking in the feeling of having everything around me completely normal with no strings attached. I used to believe that maybe I was just like them, or they were like me, at least in some kind of sense. But after so long of this, of my little blanket of false hope, my mind starts to ache and my heart falls apart in pieces, causing all hope I had conjured to be lost. People always joke about me losing my mind with the things I’ve done, but I wonder what they would say if they actually knew…
They might panic, you know, if they were aware of what really lies behind my eyes when I smile. I really do bet that if they were aware of all the things I’ve seen, imagined or heard that plays back to myself every second of every minute of every day for all these years, they’d call me insane. At this point my mind has become an ever-watching clock, a clock that never wants to stop ticking. A clock that never wants to me to have peace or let me lay down my head to try and ignore it all for once. Within any thoughts I’ve ever had, my biggest occurring problem that I’ve realized is that I’m running out of time on this clock. Stopping it has never worked for me, for I always attempt to daily, but it always keeps on going, as if it’s trying to race my heartbeat. It’s winning.
Without meaning to, I let my hands run across the cold glass of the window, as if to reach out and scoop up the swarms of people through it. I traced small figures upon my reflection shining back at me like a small child that’s so easily amused. I found myself captivated by the colors that spread out below me as dots, the many humans that roamed this city, as they moved around, completely ignorant to the chaos within this world. Within my mind. Sometimes, when I’m to my breaking point, I imagine what were to happen if I gracefully fell out of this window. I want to create a scene so big and so adrenaline-rushing that people will flood to see me when I hit the bottom. They’d finally know that I, the one who watches them out of my window daily like a curious child from above, am not all right.
Warmth spreads through my fingertips as another hand is placed over mine upon it on the glass. I would smile at the observation, except my body feels like it will break into many small pieces if I move. Slowly, a hand snakes its way around my middle to send small goosebumps into a frenzy on the back of my neck. For years I’ve faced everything alone; the thoughts within me would batter and beat me, and I had no one to turn to. And here, right here, is consolation from all the pain I’ve ever had and still deal with. But I don’t know how to take it. I don’t know when it will be taken away from me, therefor I try to do this all on my own and not rely on support. It’s why I never run to Ashley with my small pities and cluttered mind at night; I just wait. I wait to feel her breath on my neck, her hand slipping into mine, any kind of signal that she came on her own accord. That she came to save me just one more night.
“How bad is it?” Ashley whispers into my ear, as if to match her voice with the gentleness in her touch. I never understand why she treats me like I deserve nothing less of her kindness, when in my mind everything I’ve ever done is screaming at me. It’s trying to massacre me from the inside with its harsh words, but she’s still acting as if I’m perfectly normal and deserve everything…
“I’m thinking again…” my voice answers, almost cracking from not having to speak in quite some time. I haven’t been out of this room for hours, just getting caught up in watching the people flutter below me like ants. But there is a difference between them and ants; I couldn’t act like a small child and step on them all when they get mean. No, they could tear me apart.
“About what?”
And suddenly my mind went blank for just a second; what am I thinking? What is it that haunts me so many hours in my life and causes my whole body to ache from the scars it’s leaving behind? My mouth is suddenly struggling to find words that fit all that goes on within me. But what do you tell someone when you’re not even sure what it is yourself? My eyes flutter shut as I continue to fight to win this small battle within me. But it’s not working; my small army is so battered and bruised that it can no longer fight this war as it once did. I’m crumbling down to nothing now and I can’t even protest to it anymore. I can’t save myself. I’m falling…
“Shh,” the voice called to me with a small kiss to my temple, “how are your dreams?”
“Horrible.” My dreams feel like they’re not my own anymore. It’s as if they’re dipping down into another’s heart, taking all the evil and filth with it, and meshing it into me at night. I feel like anything beyond that point can’t be credited as my own. It makes me feel so unreal, so fake, to just imagine someone else’s thoughts running through me. “I haven’t slept in days now.”
Suddenly, a trail of warmth makes its way up my arm, leaving behind goosebumps as the hand trails towards my shoulder. From there, it joins the other around my waist to solidly hold me in place to the body behind me. I can’t help myself any more and I melt into the embrace, wanting nothing more than to sink into the body for life. The soul within it might not accept mine at first, but I’ll hide somewhere. Just as long as I can have her with me forever, I’ll be perfectly fine. Then why am I not fine now?
“Baby, come here,” her voice is so smooth, as if it knows just how to draw me out of my thoughts, “you need to sleep, alright?” The hands around my waist tighten, as if to pull me into an ever-lasting hug. Before I can even realize it, I’m being moved away from the window, the people below me being brushed from my sight, and being led slowly to the bed that sits in the corner of my small room. But I’m not being sent off to the piece of furniture just by myself; oh no, she would never let that happen. She always follows me through everything, at least for now. Even if I can’t let her help me with it all, she still guides me in the little tasks that make up who I am.
Soft blankets embrace me soon enough, and I can’t help but relax at the new feeling. The hands slide out from around me as she climbs up into the bed herself, and I suddenly feel a bit colder than I did before. My thoughts briefly dip into a light converse conversation on how cold this room really is right now, causing me to string on more random thoughts. This old mattress needs to be replaced, I note to myself as the bed creaks when her small form slides into the jungle of blankets. As she slides her arms around me once more, my temperature raises back up to normal at the small contact. I try my hardest to lean into the touch, craving more of the feeling as it spreads throughout my body that I’ve come to enjoy. There’s only one place I’ve ever felt at least partly complete, and that’s when I’m in her arms; they make me feel like I’m safe.
“I love you so much.” I barely took notice to the words being whispered from my lips, until they had already voiced the very thing I was thinking. My breath hitched into the back of my throat by instinct; she could easily slip out of this bed and leave me right now, or refuse my words and never return them if she decided to. Hurting me while in this state wasn’t hard, and I wasn’t ready to be rejected from the only source that kept me alive these days. And it was simple: my life could crumble if four words did not come from her lips. This human, this girl, held my heart within her hands right now; a little squeeze and I could fall apart.
“I love you, too, baby.” Words whispered into my skin felt like a burning coal to the throat. In an instant, my mind started to scream at me: she couldn’t love me. She’s got an enchanting story line, an amazing way of connecting with others, when I am left with a pathetic excuse for a human. Her small form is etched in beauty, leaving your eyes to stare in awe; my own body is nothing more than a heap of skin cells meshed together. Smooth words flow from her lips, made to wrap the other and comfort them, while mine are dull, almost a buzz in your ear. She’s always looking up to the heavens above, as if guided by the angels herself; my eyes are cast down, to the depths of what I have become and nothing more. She’s perfect. I’m not.
“Oh no, baby. Please don’t cry.” And that’s it; I’ve lost it. I’ve drove myself into this endless little hole of nothingness, and I can’t seem to find the escape route out of it. Tears are cascading down my cheeks and onto Ashley’s delicate skin, as if they’ve already found their own freedom from the chaos within my mind. My own arms are reaching out to linger on the other form’s skin; I need something to grasp, something to keep sanity in check. But it isn’t working anymore, and I’m finding myself creeping into a state of mind where nothing is as real as I want it to be. Nothing makes sense anymore, and my thoughts are mixing to form a concoction that only a sin could scarf down. This is complete insanity and dipping my feet into it has caused me to fall in headfirst.
“Baby…” the voice is so far from me, yet so near. I can barely move, but I want to go towards it. My mind is too jumbled to allow such a thing, though.
“Baby, please.” This time the sound is starting to register within me; it’s Ashley. She’s calling for me, but why can’t I answer?
“Baby, it’s time to wake up.”
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epic adventures of Shawna.
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a boy lilikoi
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