A Moment Before

Six...

You can't simply change what life makes you. If you can, make the cure to permanence known.

When something bad happens to someone it can cut deep. Leaving behind the ugliest of scar tissue. But it doesn't have to be. In your own eyes it can become something you cherish. Like a tattoo that you planned for, your whole life. Something that is so painful for only a moment, but remains a magnificent image upon you, every day to come.

When Lexi was little, she thought that every person had a ray of good, hiding inside of them. But soon her eyes became wiser and her scars cut deeper. Now, there were only monsters inside of men. Lurking behind the shadow of what was once light.

She sat on the edge of her bed. Contemplating what she was to do on the day she was without her distraction. Without patients by her side she felt an ache. Her family may want her to come visit. Brunch with mom, she wondered? Before the war she would venture downtown all the time. It was her playground. Full of secrets and graffiti paradises. And now she lived in her playground but refused to play. A wave of pain filled her heart.

There was a bar only a block from her apartment. This sounded like an opportunity to numb her thoughts. Her closet consisted of uniforms and it occurred to her that she had always been told what to wear. In school she wore a navy skirt and some sort of button up Polo shirt. She liked private school. College was scrubs almost everyday. Her days in the Army were filled with strict issued uniforms. Even when she went out, her friends determined her outfit. The freedom, now to decide, was a burden.

In the corner of her eye, just next to her light blue scrubs, was a casual sun dress. The first thing a girl's mind goes to, when they lose the man they love, seems to be a memory with their him. One that consists with normal daily life. And the moment she drifted to wasn't a sad one. For the first time in a while, she remembered what small ray of light men had left.

The dress had a turquoise blue flower print. She even remembered the day she bought it. It reminded her of her younger sister's bedroom. An odd thing to think in any normal circumstance. That room, with the turquoise blue flowers on the bed, was the place she lost something. Something she never got back.

At a Catholic school they teach of modesty and remaining chaste until marriage. Lexi believed in this. She remembered the things her teachers said about it. Once a man asked for a volunteer during class. Lexi's hand was the first up. Had it gone up any faster, she might have lost a finger to the ceiling. He instructed her to hold out her arm, and so she did. He ripped a piece of duct tape from its perfect silver roll. The sound hurt her ears. Before she could object, he pressed the tape onto her arm. Her eyes squinted shut and she flinched, awaiting the pain. Without a sound, he pulled it from her arm and she yelped out. The man asked if it hurt and she nodded with her arm cradled in her opposite hand. She was sure it had ripped the hairs off. Her arm was bald. Before he spoke another word, he smacked the same piece of tape just above the spot before. Lexi pulled her arm away and he instructed her to return it. Her obedience agreed. He removed the tape again and she was pleasantly surprised. The man repeated this, until the tape no longer stuck. When it fell to the ground he paused and asked her if it hurt for the final time. She shook her head and spoke. Stating the obvious, "It didn't even stick."

The class was confused and silent. He spoke with so much honesty, it became impossible to remove her eyes from his lips. He picked up the tape and held it for everyone to see, "This silver slip of tape, is like sex. The first time your going to feel it. Maybe it will even hurt you and it will leave behind redness and take something away. But the next time, it wont hurt so bad. And the more you do it, the less it sticks. The less it feels. The less it means." Everyone was quiet. The air was stale but his words filled the room.