I didn't like to break my promises. Promises to me were a pact. They were something to live by. Promises were the sort of things that kept you from running off and doing something stupid. They were the things that kept you alive in the middle of the night when the top of the water tower was calling to you.
I don't think that I've ever broken a promise. I still visit my grandmother once every month to kiss her on the cheek and tell her that I love her to infinity and beyond. I still stop by my mother's grave every other month to lay down a new bouquet of white roses. I still feed my neighbour's dog whenever they're out of town so that the poor girl doesn't starve. I don't break my promises.
Maybe that's why I can't find out why I'm breaking this one. It wasn't a big promise, to me anyway. Just a small little one to my best friend of six years. We didn't really understand it when we made it. All I knew at the time was that there were voices calling to me when the lights went out, telling me to do things I used to see as terrible. I told her about it, and she made me promise to stop listening to them. We shook pinkies on it.
Though, I think the voices are getting mad at me now. They used to whisper and caress my skin with soft fingers, and it wasn't really all that bad. Now they shout. They scream in tones that no one else can hear and rip at the covers and try to reach me. They never have. Until now.
I never noticed before, because I thought they were so terrifying, but the voices were actually very beautiful. Every wish I've harbored for the past three years, every line I hide from the world, every fibre of my being that I longed to destroy, they promised. They weren't screaming to scare me, I've realized, they're screaming because they want to save me.
So I'm sorry, but this is the promise that I'll have to break. The voices aren't quite as warm as you, but they're always there.. So I'll go to them and you won't have to worry, because now I'm safe.
