'Til Death do us Part

I am empty.

"Sarah, you have been coming here for over two months and you haven't spoken a word."

That's because I don't want to be here.

"Your parents tell me you haven't been eating."

I'm not hungry.

"They say you spend most of your time in your room with the curtains drawn."

I want to be alone. Alone is good.

"They are worried about you."

Then let them be worried. There is nothing wrong with me. I am fine.

She purses her lips, hesitating for a moment before speaking delicately, "Can we talk about Riley?"

Riley. Hearing his name brings a pang to my chest. I grip my side tightly, as if to stop myself from splitting open. Isn't that why everyone has been so careful around me? Do they think I don't notice how their tones soften when they talk to me or that I can't see the sympathetic look in their eyes as they stare into mine, cold and vacant? Because that's exactly what they're doing- waiting for me to split open. And they'll be right there to sew me back together again. Well, I won't let them. I don't want to be fixed. I am fine. I am fine. I am fine.

"Sarah?" My therapist leans forward, trying to look into my eyes. Trying to read past the blank mask I've worn for two months. The mask I swore I would never remove. Without saying a word, I get up and walk out of her office, not once looking back as my feet carry me further away from her, the shouts that she sends after me becoming distorted by the wind in the distance between us.

I walk quickly down the street, avoiding the hungry gazes and prying eyes of every familiar face I pass. I don't know where I am going. I just walk until my feet are numb and my knees begin to buckle. It isn't until I collapse to the ground that I realize where I am: A field. Our field. Through blurry tears that I didn't know had fallen, I gaze over the familiar land, abundant and colorful and teeming with life. We would always come here as kids. A wide open space with tall grass that sways with the strong persuasion of the wind and blooming flowers, waiting to be picked by small, innocent fingers. I lean back, molding myself to the soft ground as the grass yields beneath me and letting the sunlight kiss my tear-streaked cheeks. For the first time in two months I allow myself to smile.

Just a small one, letting the corners of my lips raise slightly, because if I keep my eyes closed, I can imagine he is here with me. We are ten years old. We feel independent, he and I. We have found our own little world to live in, just the two of us.

****

"Tag! You're it!" Riley shouts, poking me hard on the back and causing me to yelp.

"Hey, that's not fair!" I complain as Riley collapses in hysterics, clutching his stomach.

"Y-you should've y-your face!"

"Well how am I supposed to tell where you are when the grass is half our size?" I exclaim, gesturing to the green field and hiding my blushing cheeks.

"Maybe you should try opening your eyes, Sarah."

****

Something is different. His voice is deeper and I am encased in darkness. I realize that my eyes are closed and when I open them I am no longer looking at a ten year old boy, but an eighteen year old version of himself.

****

"Welcome back," he smiles. The smell of summer ruffles through the trees surrounding us as he takes my hand and leads me over to a blanket laid on the grass with a basket set on top of it.

"I figured we owed it to ourselves to, you know, get away from it all. Plus we haven't been back here in years, so I figured, why not?"

"It's perfect," I say, wrapping my arms around him. I examine the field because he is right. We haven't been able to visit in years, but everything is just as I remembered. It is as if in the midst of chaos, our little world is the one thing that remains constant. Our safe haven has been waiting for us to return.

As if he is thinking the same thing, Riley smiles his familiar, boyish smile, showing the dimples on his cheeks and his emerald green eyes shine with happiness, and for a moment, everything is perfect.

****

Then the scene starts to transform again. Riley's smile begins to fade and I can no longer feel his arms around me. The sky darkens as angry clouds storm through it.

"No! Please, don't leave me!"

His lips are moving, but no words escape them. His eyes, which just a moment ago displayed joy, now show horror. They are wide with complete panic and desperation. Tears stream down his face and I see his chest move quicker as his breathing speeds up.

The wind howls through the trees, picking up debris with it, which scratch mercilessly at my face, my neck, my arms. But all I notice is Riley, being swallowed up the elements.

His eyes lock with mine and one broken whimper escapes his parted lips- a single word that would haunt my mind forever: "Help."

"No!" I know what I am about to be shown. I am about to relive the worst night of my life: The night my best friend died. Tears falls pitilessly from the sky and I desperately clutch his torso, but it is like holding on to air and he slips through my trembling fingers like a wisp of smoke. The rain crashes down on our meadow, flooding the grass. The tide of mud rises to engulf my shoes, my ankles, my knees. I don't have time to move before it advances to envelope my entire body. I try scream for help, but it deluges into my mouth. I try to breathe in, but the thick tar coats my lungs. I can feel myself being pushed to the ground under the crushing wave. I am Atlas, bearing the eternal burden of the Earth upon my frail shoulders, only my punishment isn't the weight of the world, it's the weight of my own sorrow. My own crushing, irrevocable guilt. Every cell in my body begs for oxygen and pain erupts from my chest. Fire licks my throat and flows through my veins. I am drowning. Until, suddenly, I'm not.

I stand alone in our field once again. I know whatever is happening isn't over yet. How could it be? We haven't even gotten to the best part. I squeeze my eyes shut and cover my ears. Preparing myself to relive this dreaded night. I just keep reassuring myself that I am okay. I am fine. I am fine. I am fine.

The sound of tires squealing and metal screeching as it crunches into oblivion wakes me from my nightmare. It isn't raining. The sun has set slightly in the sky, but it is still today, not that day. A cool breeze flows through the opening, causing chills to run up my spine. I shiver violently and draw my knees underneath my chin, wrapping my arms around my legs.

It was just a dream.

No, it wasn't. My friend is dead and it's all my fault. It was my fault he was in that car. He was picking me up. It's my fault. The long grass I sit in brushes against my skin, trying to console me as I shake my head back and forth, denying my own thoughts.

"I am fine. I am fine. I am fine."

I am not fine.

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Thank you so much for reading! This something a came up with during Creative Wriing last year. We were asked to write about a "state of sadness" and this was the result. Plus, I was having one of those days, so... XD PLEASE REMEBER TO VOTE AND COMMENT! This helps me out more than you could know. Love you guys!

-Isabelle <3