Kidding Me

Chapter 12

   How did everything change so quickly? A couple months ago I was laughing in the park surrounded by friends, staring at the wondrous beauty of the peaceful willow draping over the east side of the glistening river. I'd pause time every so often. Just sit in the silence and stare. Sometimes, I would pump music into my brain and feel the beat course through my body and the lyrics scream at me in rhymes. The words I once thought I understood and understood me, now are meaningless, as if their substance had been drained through the unrelated happenings in my life. Now with the interpretation of their messages flipped, all they add is more grief to the ever-mounting pit of depression that just so happens to be my thoughts. Wow, how cheery. 

   Is it wrong to be like this, or is that just how society has brought up this generation to think? That any amount of hardship and trauma can be fixed with a "DMC" and a Starbucks? Don't get me wrong, I love me my strawberry frappuccino but, I don't know, but I suspect that most girls ordering a coffee right now haven't just murdered a little girl.

   My days, what have I done?

   I am a Monster.

   What would be worse, if nobody found out and the guilty gnawed at me for years, haunted my mind every time I closed my eyes; or everybody knew. Judgment sent in storms in every look. The world would never look at me the same way.

    Lyrics. Of course.

    Wherever I look I always turn back to music. A distraction. 

   Nobody can find out. The guilt would still be there and if everyone knew it'd make it times and times worse. And the look on Jasper face... Jas! I couldn't bear that. He could never know poor Bunni was gone because of me. My heart pulled and tightened just at the thought.

   I never understood self-harm before, but now, the compelling desire to pick up a blade, just to see if there is comparable pain. Or even to try find relief in the aftermath. I don't think I actually will, but I get it now.

    Staring into a solemn reflection, the thing in front of me looks as dead as I feel. Flat waves, no curls. White completion, no life. Even the scattered freckles that usually look cute and young, now look unevenly dotted and obscure. A little kid has drawn them on my paper-white face in permanent marker that can't be washed away...

    Like this guilt.

    Someone should have told me that today doesn't come with a washable label. That I shouldn't have got out of bed. I was just starting to convince myself that I needed to do more with my life. Yes, cheesy but true. I could do with a bit more true right now. True and good.

    Well guess what Myra, it doesn't work like that! I can't take back today, as much as I will try for the next months, today is emended into my timeline and will define a part of me. Not that murderer is the only thing I will ever be, but it's a part of me that I can't change and the thoughts that come along with it can't be shaken for a while. I can live with it. I can. I can love with it aswell. Murderer is still what I am, but I can be more than that, just got to stick it out.