Walk Through Fog

Emptiness

Sometimes when I hold her hand it's like holding an empty shell. All I want to do is take the pain away and hold her until she can't feel the world around her. I know that will never happen though, I know the pain will continue and she will just keep seeing the worst in people and never open up again. He ruined that, that fucking bastard took the light out of her eyes and every day she will wake up knowing he's still out there. Most of the time I hold her hand she doesn't talk to me, doesn't look at me. I love her, but everyday I see her slipping out of my fingers and all I want to do is grab her and hold on and make sure no more demons come and attack her, make sure no one will ever haunt her dreams again.

That's all I want, I never want her to bleed again, but I can't stop her from causing herself to bleed, can I? She sits there, in her room, one knife in her hand as blood trickles down her skin hoping the demons won't get her. I fear that one day I may catch her doing worse and then what would I do without her? When I found out about what happened to her, I searched for him. That fucking asshole, but he was long gone. Who would do that, just leave her and run off? Especially someone she knew, especially someone she loved. Sometimes I dream it, more like a nightmare, him standing over Sage and no one trying to stop it! People were there, in that house, in that room! Everyday I think about it and I just want to beat him until he can't walk anymore. I have no respect for anyone anymore, especially the police, the courtrooms, the people that don't believe in women's rights. That douche is out there, living his life, joking with friends about it every fucking day and the cops know exactly where he is.

The first thing the police asked Sage was, "What were you wearing?" She was wearing a dress, at a party, having fun and the police decided it was her fault, that she deserved it for wearing that. I wanted to punch the cop right then and there, then he turned on me. He tried to make it seem like I raped her! She was there, she knows who did it! They never took him into questioning, they blamed me, because I was the one that was there to help her. It's not a fucking homicide, there were witnesses! She was a witness! Everyday I walk passed that house and picture it, all of it, every last second and all I want to do is take the pain away from her. Every time I walk past that house I want to kill myself for not being there to stop it. I was there, in the house, just upstairs. Sage told me she was going to hang out with her friends and I smiled and kissed her cheek, never imagining it. I never wanted to imagine it.

She didn't seem scared when I walked downstairs to check on her, she just lied there, staring at the ceiling, everything revealed and I started to panic. I asked frantically what happened, but all she did was chuckle and whisper his name, "Andy." I didn't know what she meant but seconds later I looked into her eyes and saw everything be taken away from them, every hope, dream, amazing laugh, was gone. I immediately called 911 and everything happened so quickly and there was Andy on the side of the house laughing his drunk ass off and the first thing I did was punch him and then drag him to the police and no one listened they just kept saying, "It's not his fault, all he did was fill his urges." I didn't know what to say I just turned to Sage and she chuckled again, a small smile on her face, almost menacing, she whispered something, so only I could hear, "Wow, police these days. It's funny, he's right here." I didn't think it was funny though and I knew she didn't either.

I knew her laughing was a way of hiding pain and fear and laughing at the whole situation, at how it could have happened. Weeks later she started to blame herself, people were bullying her, making her feel like the bad guy and I would insist everyday that it wasn't her fault, nothing was her fault. Her friends stopped talking to her and blamed her for this random guy on campus getting hurt for no reason and I would just stare at them. How was he the hurt one? How was he the one that went home everyday and cut themselves until they almost bled to death? Everyday I would come home to my fiance trying to kill herself, the light that I used to love was gone. I just wanted to see it one last time, the flicker of hope.

I finally go home and I see her there, the first time I didn't get home in time, I didn't get to stop her, she was lying there, a knife in her hand and blood everywhere. I rush to the phone and immediately call 911 and then everything's a blur. I see her being rolled out covered with a black bag and the thought that my beautiful, perfect girlfriend was in there made me feel numb and nothing inside could stop me from dropping to my knees, tears rolling down my face. That's when I saw the note: I love you, Andrew Exels. The only problem is I couldn't see your face everyday. All I saw was the night you hurt me forever. You didn't even know you did it, you thought it was Andy Shepard the whole time, but. Babe. Your names Andy too.

I didn't even understand, I was upstairs the whole time! I don't even understand Andy Shepard was-me. That's when I see the bottle roll towards me after someone kicked it. I look up and see Andy Shepard, then look back down and see the medicine for Multiple Personality Disorder.