Our indelible pasts|✔

one - kiana

I COULD HAVE been killed last night.

Paralysed, I stand under the hot water running from the shower as it scorches my skin. Images of last night are flashing through my head, foggy, but still, I know what happened. And as if what happened wasn't scary enough, I know what could have happened. I could have died. I could have actually died. I could have been a corpse, ready to be six feet under. I didn't even think I was scared of dying, until that very moment. That very moment that could have as well been my last. But here I am. Breathing. Alive.

Only, I don't feel alive. And I don't even feel like I deserve to still be alive.

I'm about to start scrubbing hard at my skin with my loafer when my heart jumps. It takes a few moments for me to pull myself out of my head and when I do, I realise that the source of my abrupt fear is just the loud ringing of my phone. I quickly turn off the water before grabbing it from the sink. A private number flashes on my screen.

Not having the energy for this but wanting to just get it over with, I wrap a towel around my body and speak dryly into the phone, voice dry. "Hi mama."

"Kiki darling, how've you been?"

She'll never let go of that God awful nickname, will she?

"I've been okay." I answer, already running out of patience to hear the real reason she called, not the fake concern that is currently laced through her voice.

"Your father, he's not been picking my calls. Have you talked to him recently?"

There it is.

She'll never call to actually check up on me. I learned that one too many calls in.

"No."

"Tell him to call me okay sweetie?"

No I won't, but, it won't hurt to give you some hope. "Sure."

"Alright, bye now! Mama loves you."

"Yeah." Sure.

I quickly end the call and this wave of weakness hits me with a sudden force so great, I feel my legs shake. Holding on to the sink for support, I miserably blink the tears away.

"Not today." I tell myself, voice shaky. "Not today."

***

"Those of you who are going to branch into clinical psychology will dive even further into this. I'm sure you'll love it. It's quite an interesting concept really." Professor Chester says as he walks back to his desk. "But that's it for today. See you Monday folks."

And with those final words, I shut my laptop and proceed to leave the lecture hall.

"Not you Miss Brooklyn. I need to have a word with you." Professor Chester shouts through the noise in the room.

Sighing, I make my way to him waiting to hear that I completely failed my assignment from last week.

I reach his desk and smile up at him. "Yes sir?"

"Kiana Brooklyn. Did you like the class today?

I mean, I slept through half of it but, "Yeah, it was great." I lie.

"That's nice to hear. Now, I was wondering if you'll be free Friday afternoon."

"I have no classes Friday afternoon. Why?" I must have really failed that assignment. And it accounts for 30% of my final grade for this semester. Just great.

"Perfect! Do you mind coming to my office at around 3? I'd like to discuss some of your work with you if that's okay with you."

What did I get? A twenty-fucking-percent?

"That's okay, I'll pass by." I smile at him, masking my worry.

He smiles back. "Great."

I take that as my cue to leave and make my way out of the lecture hall, panic rising within me as I start to doubt all the content I put in my assignment. I remember doing it last minute. Very last minute actually. I started it three hours before the deadline and it was a five thousand word essay. I was barely even sober when I did it. Yeah, I definitely failed it.

WhenI'm near the exit of the building, I stop to connect my AirPods to my phone,putting Michael Jackson's album, Thriller, on shuffle. The only thing that canmake my day somewhat better. Soon enough, the little voice in my head isblasting the words to Human Nature as I get closer to my car, as if I wasn't about to have a panic attack literally just twenty seconds ago.