Maple

10

I was stuck to that wall all night, just staring at the sky, huddling into myself. The stars were barely peeking out from behind a thick cover of fog but the moon shone brightly nonetheless. There was no doubting where the moon was in the sky; so white and round and jeering. Usually, it's a symbol of safety and comfort for me, but that night all I could envision was a long, twisted smile on its cratered surface. I hated thinking so grotesquely about the moon, but everything felt just that...grotesque.

It must have been early morning when I finally unstuck myself from that cement wall and slowly meandered down the sidewalk. I dared not glance at the spot where Jared was hit; I know it had been cleaned up, but my memory would make the spot fresh once more.

It was always like that for me. My memory had always been so fresh and vivid, oftentimes more of a curse than a blessing. I could look at a familiar spot on the ground and remember the spider that'd been previously scurrying around there, almost hallucinating its tiny body (in cases such as those, my memory is a blessing.) If I happened to pass the park in which I witnessed the woman's heart attack, it would be like hitting replay on a movie scene. I'd be witnessing it once more.

Maybe this little trait of mine is what makes it so hard to forget the grocery store girl, and why I'd probably never stop seeing Jared's body or the woman's hand clutching at her cardigan. Was she trying to manually turn off the heart attack? People have crazy ways of thinking in moments of intense panic.

The sky was slowly beginning to turn from indigo to shades of orange and pink, melting the chill of the night. The sun was in a world of its own, so were the stars, and everything else. They don't know what happens down here, and if they did, would they care?

People began to crawl out of their caves–metaphorically speaking–and sluggishly pull themselves to the nearest cafes and to their early morning jobs. Only occasionally did I see someone, usually a young someone, with pep in their step. One young man I passed was jogging with his earbuds in and wearing only a pair of blue track shorts. His skin was beading with sweat and his expression determined. I wonder if he'd eaten yet this morning.

I won't lie. As the days go on, and it hadn't been many days since I left, I feel more and more like I'm completely and utterly falling apart.