The bell rings for lunch. I look up at the clock. It was 11.40 A.M.
Everyone shoots up out of their desk impatiently, forming together into groups to go enjoy the next 30 minutes of their break. I was never in a hurry, so I was almost always last. Usually I'd have Emma to be with.
I swing my black and blue checkered backpack over my shoulder and pick up my notebook. I walk out of class and head to the vending machines. I wasn't very hungry and Mr. Barbosa was waiting for me.
As I step up to the machine, I rummage through my jacket pocket where I had a quarter. The hallways were hoarded with groups of friends laughing and talking and getting ready to get in their cars together. It made my heart swell, in a bad way.
"Oh my gosh, wait." I hear a small voice behind me. I turn around to see a girl around my height but with blonde hair and makeup slathered all over. For a second, I lit up from who she reminded me of. But the spark was shortly burnt out.
"You're that girl," her finger slightly pointed towards me, a surprised open-mouthed smirk on her face. I look her up and down. She was skinny and dressed just as everyone else did.
"Be more specific." Knowing what she had meant, I turn back around and look through my selection of snacks as she continued to talk. I feel her inch closer to me to avoid the noise of the hallway. I click my quarter into the machine for a bag of chips.
"You know, the one girl from the news. Is it true you got, like... kidnapped?"
I turn to my right where she was staring at me with the same face, this time with a bit of sympathy.
I bend down and grab the small bag as I feel the room begin to heat up. My heart was beginning to thump from all the pain I had buried and memories I tried so hard to forget. All for it to be revised from a single word.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry. Is it like, still fresh?" She asks. I see her hand cover her mouth and her eyebrows pointed up with a face of sorrow. I wasn't sad, I was more angry and scared. Why was I scared?
"I just don't want to talk about it, please," I plead quietly. I tried as hard as I could to make my mind go numb and think of nothing but my lunch meeting. The halls were finally mellowed down and most the people had filtered out.
"I totally understand." She puts her hands up and smiles. I tilt my head a bit and look to the side.
"You what?"
She gets taken aback, her face moving to a more serious tone as she stares at me in a way that made it look like she was scared of me. "I... I understand that you don't want to talk about it," she answers defensively and kind of quickly.
This made me so upset. She thinks she understands?
"No. You have no idea what I had to fucking go through. Don't tell me you understand. No one ever can," I say with more anger than intended. I was so sick of people trying to sympathize by telling me they understand, but no one had any idea.
"My best friend could very well be fucking dead and I have nobody else on this goddamn planet who will ever understand what I've been through," I grab her shoulder as a way to make her listen. I wanted someone to listen to me. I could feel my eyes begin to get big and a lump rising in my throat.
She backs off and aggressively pulls away from me. "You don't have to be such a bitch. I only wanted to help you," she scoffs angrily under her breath and walks away from me.
I was left standing in the middle of the empty hallway, my hand still in position from when I was holding her to keep her there. I was shocked at how I had treated her. I sigh and drop my hand down as my head tilts back. I let my emotions control me. I'm such a fucking idiot.
Well, now for the lunch "date".
●
I knock on the door softly and wait just a few seconds before Ms. Wilson, Emma's mom, opens up with a smile, immediately giving me a tight hug. "Ohh, I'm so happy to see you," she holds me in a firm wrap and rocks me from side to side. I smile and suck up all the affection. "You too." I murmur softly.
"Come in, sweetie." She lets go gentley and moves to the side for me to walk in. I do, and immediately I'm brought back to how good things were just a year ago. Even the smell was the same, like a Christmas pinecone covered in cinnamon.
I stand back and look around. This was the first time in a long time that I was able to come here.
"Oh gosh, ignore the mess," she frantically paces towards the couch where she had piles of blankets and towels stacked upon each other. "I was folding some laundry and I thought I'd be done in time." She shrugs and picks up the TV remote and turns off her show.
I smile. "No, no. It's okay. Don't worry about it." I move my eyes towards the stairs. That's where her room was.
Ms. Wilson must've noticed me moping and looking because almost immediately I could hear her coming towards me and beginning to rub my back caringly. "You can... go up there if you'd like to," she says softly with a shakiness. "I've left it as it is."
I look down, my throat beginning to close up. It hurt so much to see this family torn apart for no good reason. But I held my cry in as well as I could. It stung my throat and water began to form in my eyes without any real crying.
I look up at her, and nod, but nothing would come out. She understands and nods back. I see her begin to cry and walk away. This was terrible.
I drop my backpack and unzip my jacket, leaving them by the front door. It's felt like I've done that a thousand times with Emma. Then we'd be laughing and excited to talk about... anything. It made my heart ache worse, but gave me a little smile as well.
I walk up the stairs slowly while her mom went into the kitchen to do something. I take a deep breath as I stood at the top of the stairway. Her bedroom was down hall to my right, the very last door. I could see that it was shut.
My body begins to feel weak as I walk over and pop the doorknob open. The door creaks as the untouched smell of her whiffs into my face. Her room had been left uninterrupted, like a time capsule of the time she was here. I shut the door as to preserve anything I could.
I stare in awe as I look around at her things. Her bed was still messy from when she had waken up, her art journal still sitting on her desk from when she had drawn in it. Her pencils, notebooks, books, everything. They were all left in place from when she touched them.
It made me break. I involuntarily let out a deep and powerful cry. I was shaking as it happened, my face smothered with all the pain from missing Emma. I sit on her bed and cradle myself, rocking back and forth and letting out anything that wanted to come out.
I look down as tears dropped onto her blankets, mentally revisiting the severity and the trauma of what had happened. I was sold, raped, beaten, starved, and held in a cold room for months.
I cried as I realized how much it ruined my life, and my relationships with people. But nothing even came close as to when I thought about Emma.
Just then, her mom walks in slowly. She looks at me with pure pity and sadness. As she shuts the door, her lip begins to quiver. I look up at her, my face puffy and eyes red from rubbing the tears away.
Through tearful eyes, she mutters "I know, I know," and sits next to me on the bed. Her arms pull me close into a hug. We both begin to sob, letting every captive emotion free.
"What if s-she's dead?" I sob, my words getting uncontrollably loud as my cries come out even harder. I hear Ms. Wilson sniff and feel her body shake. She says nothing. "I'm so scared for her. I-I can't even imagine..." I let out a wail as I counteract myself and do think about it.
For close to an hour, we held each other close and healed as much as we could together. She had done more for me than a lot of others since coming home. It all made me miss Emma so much more.
