Dust

| 20 |

What a wild reckless thing I did. Let rusty nails dig in until they parted blue veins. I hoped the incision would be enough to push everything else away or leave behind traces of a poison that paralysed my limbs.

I did what you're not supposed to do, lie to yourself so that honesty doesn't bleed through your flowy summer shirt. This is the last time I make her go away. No room for guilt by choosing myself over something that kills me so sweetly. Yet the knowing cricket whispers gently, this is only another form of self-isolation, I am pushing away the only person that stayed long enough to shake me off the numbness. And the cricket is not the angel on my collarbone, why did that take five years to notice?

In this moment, to clean it from my body proves so easy. The critters that crawled up my skin have turned to vultures. I can see clearly once the black dots stop clouding my vision and my hands don't shake convulsively when I try to write a letter to my parents. For someone who has lived in a blanket fort, it's surprising me that only now I acknowledge the sharp edges of the walls, the doorknob throbbing iron red. Don't misread it, I always knew this was a prison, even before I ever dared enter it, but I always entertained the notion that a prison was a definite evil, far outweighing the dangers of the unknown.

I entered the captor's home, outlined the ransom note, and made the rules on my own. I thought I understood it all, except being held captive still means you don't get to leave, regardless of how comfortable the floor is. I held my tongue, silent, I let her do the talking. I crossed my arms and shrugged, allow her take-over. It is simple not to think, the final decisions resting on someone else's shoulders.

There it goes again, the desire to let her stay, missing remnants of what hasn't left yet, regret rolling the window down for whatever else wants to come inside. There are still shadows lurking, even when the light source is absent. However, I refuse: 1804 days ago I picked a poison that I recognised to wash down the bitter taste the world left in my mouth. I refuse, I hold out my hand to the medicine cabinet, pick the antidote that will certainly bring about old memories, nonetheless it will shut her down and that is all I need.

Dead in her tracks, Stella wants me to bring her back, but darling you cannot revive someone after the autopsy, you should have known that when you tried to murder me.