Behind The Walls

ONE

ONE

14 January 2013

 

“I’ve told you, there’s something that has been lurking there. I can hear it!”

“Sure there is. Oh! Did you hear that?”

“Where? I didn’t hear anything.”

“Exactly.”

“You’re the worst. Let’s just go, okay? Those punching bags are begging to be kicked right now.”

08:04. We walked on the sideways to the training center. It has been 3 days since I kept on hearing branches breaking, ruckus from the bushes and a feeling of being stalked. It’s unlikely but it may happen. But by this morning breeze and the gloves that awaited my arrival to be worn, I don’t really care.

“Narelle, stop daydreaming and start opening the door. You’re blocking my view.”

I inhaled the familiar smell of this place. White walls surrounding the room with pictures of winners and fights that happened in the past. Pictures filled with pride and excitement, captured by my very hands. I tighten the straps on my gloves and started my training.

                                                                                               …

“Callaway, I know it sounds crazy. But it seems like I kept on taking the same photos of the same person.” I pointed out every photo that I’ve taken. Callaway didn’t seem surprised at all.

11:19. Callaway handed the money to Mr. Abernathy. Cotton Candy Ice-cream with gummy bears is the best after sweating like a pig inside the arena. I hopped between the lines on the sidewalks. Same old doors, same old people, same old view. Bouquet of flowers in each doors left and some almost withered. Suddenly, someone ran beside me, almost nudging me to the right.

“Hey! Come back you little piece of… paper?” I stared down to a folded piece of paper with burns on each edge.

“Is that a new cuss or did your mind went blank for a minute there? Or did you find a magical piece of map that turns out to have a pot filled with gold and diamonds. Or did you went crazy and got amazed easily by a piece of paper?” Callaway blabbered the whole time I tried to pick up the nicely folded paper. I pressed my middle finger to his lips.

“Please, contain your sarcasm in a bottle and let me take this paper in silence.”

Isn’t it such a movie coincidence that a piece of paper just landed there in front of me to take and read. I carefully open it and it says:

He’s here

He’s there

He’s always watching

He prays

He did not sleep

He’s trying

Please

I am trying

With silence and binoculars

Don’t worry

I cared

You will

Remember

 

Have you ever have a cold chilled tickled your spine and spread in your bones and you just froze. I stayed there, holding the paper and observed each and every word. This is my unfinished poem I made yesterday. But, I didn’t remember writing anything after “Please”.

“Who are you?” I whispered to myself.

“Trinity is waiting you know. Let’s just not stare at a piece of garbage and let’s go.”

“This is my poem, somebody added the words. I know somebody is spying on me. I’m not crazy. HAHAHA!”

Callaway dragged me by the hand with a tight grip and I resisted almost punching him in the face. He blocked my hand and held my hand. We went home and we didn’t speak of anything else. My brain took control of me again. Good thing Callaway’s with me. 

But he is watching and now I am sure of it. My name is Narelle Linkston and this is what my story goes like, it is what I see everyday. This is nothing, yet.