Maria and I

Dear Maria 24

Dear Maria,

Rickety rack skitch-sketch…

The lead of the fountain pen scratched furiously against the page of the draft paper. The fireplace behind me threw a dark shadow onto the walls of my confinement and onto my work. I squinted, occasionally shifting the paper around so that I could see my writings.

I’m angry. I’m so angry.

I frowned harder, my pen moving as fast as the pounding of my heartbeat. The grip on my utensil hardened with every passing sentence and a small cut could be seen on my right palm where my nails were digging in due to the pressure of my grasp.

Rickety rack skitch-sketch…

I was going to do it.

I shouldn’t hold back much longer. I needed to write…

What I wanted to write all those while ago.

But avoided it because –

I stood up so suddenly, upsetting the poor stool, my back hunching over my desk. My whole body heaving as if I had ran a mile.

“No one can stop me.” I growled, turning to the full length mirror that stood a few steps away. My misty reflection played on the glass as I moved towards it, watching as my figure sharpened. I cautiously swiped the glass and watched as the dust moved aside, revealing part of my haggard features. Small eyes, pulled downwards, an unattractive nose, and a line for my mouth.

“I can’t take this anymore…I have to…” I whispered tiredly against the pane. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” she questioned from the other side of the pane. I looked back into the same set of eyes, the fire flickering due to a stray breeze from the half open window.

“I need to do this.” I replied hoarsely, pressing our foreheads together. Looking closer, my eyes were blood shot, dry. My lips cracked and cuts grazed onto my cheeks from restless nights where my body felt all itchy with a sort of annoyance, and I had forgotten to trim my nails. “And so will you.”

I watched as my other me pursed her lips, her eyes dimming with reluctance and stubbornness.

She was about to argue. I knew it. Tell me again what the physical world had done right to me, the interpretation, the reason, why what happened had happened. But this time…

This time…I was going to rebel.

“I’m tired of this. I want to choose a side, Kimmy. And you’re too good to survive. You’ll sacrifice for me or you can join me.” I persuaded, before she could speak up. She went still again, her eyes narrowing quietly to a side. “You don’t need that much empathy. With me, you won’t have to repress that much. We can do whatever we want.”

“Lies. It’s what you want. Just because you’re the desire doesn’t mean you can just forget who is doing the rational job.” She growled back. Anger flashed through my eyes.

Does she not understand? Does she not see? Of course she can’t feel.

“Why you little b-”

“Sweetie?” A sweet sweet voice said from outside my door, making me stiffen. “Is everything alright?”

 I relaxed almost immediately, and turned towards the door.

“I’m fine mama.” I hollered back, then returned my attention to the scowling girl in the mirror.

“I need to do this at least once.” I hissed quietly, still not backing down. I watch as she stared off into the distance, her eyes trained somewhere, brows furrowed indicating that she was deep in thoughts.