Short Story Collection

The Well

The open road, cold and desolate in the early hours of the morning as I drive without
purpose. Hours wasted, spent drifting down various gravel roads on the outskirts of town, thinking of what the stars serenade in this chilled autumn paradise. Stories of things I've experienced in this small town, my prison. Words describing it act like daggers and dig into every inch of my skin, leaving behind scars that no one would be able to look past. A castaway, the one who doesn't fit in anywhere, never have and never will.

"I can't let them find me! I'll be dead if they find me!" A booming voice whispers in my ears as water droplets form on the glass lenses that are my eyes.

Thrashing heartbeats, a thousand miles an hour, going the same speed as my car tires and my empty, reeling mind. Thoughts spin by so quick that they're nonexistent. My life seeming like nothing but a record on replay, lyrics that have been memorized from years of repetition until there is nothing left to gain, only to be forgotten in a moments notice and as decades pass, no one will care to remember.

    A heart that only wanted to repair what was broken, a heart that only wanted tie together the loose ends of the string, is shattered on the cold, hard ground.  Sixteen years, the length of time it took to realize there is nothing left to fix, as it's unmendable, a discarded doll that has been burned into ash. A life without meaning is recognized as I approach the home of my sweetest dreams.

    I get out of my mom's silver car, the line between what I was destined for since the beginning of this painful journey and another fifty years of suffering. I'm sure to park deep within the woods so there would be no trace of me. The wind sends cracking shivers down my spine as the leaves crunch beneath my black boots. Loose strands of brunette hair levitate behind me as I walk towards the uneven stone steps that I haven't seen in years.

Laughing can be heard around me as I skim my hand on the worn and rough surface, resting outside the sanctuary of my childhood memories. Serenity hits me like a tidal wave and for once in my life, I know what is going to happen next.

    Reflections of the golden glow from the lighthouse shines between the trees, giving a feeling of solace and security through this abandoned wood. What seems like millions of years remembering climbing to the roof of the paint chipped house in admiration. What seems like millions of years that I will never get back.

I rise slowly, not having the strong yearning to go through my past but the goal of visiting my backyard one last time. Dead leaves dance around me in welcoming as I open the rusted metal gate that would have led to an orchard of white roses. What lies now is the aching thirst that hasn't been quenched since I was five, firm specks of grass over the needy earth. The apple tree that me and my brother used picnic under is nothing but a stump, no more freshly baked apple pie on thanksgiving.

Remembrance of the aroma, of warm treats that grandmother used to bake no longer lurks within these walls. Feelings of pure joy and bliss that will soon be destroyed, ending with a smile, my smile on posters all around town.

At last, at two in the morning, with no one knowing where I went in the middle of the night, I am finally alone. Something I thought I would never feel, emotions overwhelming me as I see the center of myself. Stones stacked and mended together to form the well, the endless evenings I spent throwing coins and making wishes flash in my mind. Tonight, my dream will finally come true.

A small grin forms as I climb, the wood from it's sides giving me splinters, pain that truly brings me back. I take a deep breath before the jump.

in my final moments, I am nothing.