Luna's Ghost

29

JACKSON

I carefully hopped down from the ladder that was propped up against my house. Dad had to use it to get up to the roof to repair a hole and hadn't bothered moving it despite the fact it had been a year since he made the repair.

As I descended down the ladder steps, I couldn't stop speculating how I ended up on the roof, the roof of all places. How the hell did I get up there? I hadn't been drinking, I hadn't been smoking any weed--I did the day before but the buzz was completely gone now--so how did I get my ass up there?
I hopped down from the last two rungs and landed on the grass. I glanced up at the roof, the morning sun slowly rising, brightening the sky, streams of sunlight cascading over my face. I was beyond confused and wanted answers as to how I got up on the roof and why I was up there. I couldn't remember anything after I went to bed last night.

As a matter of fact, I couldn't remember much of anything from these past two months. Everything was a blur. I would often find myself on top of someone, pummeling them senselessly, without knowing why or what led up to the fight. I would be confused and find myself in this brawl I had no idea was taking place.

All I know for certain, was that for these past few months, I felt rage like I never felt before, almost twenty-four seven. I remember wanting nothing more than to lash out at everyone around me. I also remember constantly hearing my uncle's voice in my head, causing me to grow angrier by the second. When the bastard was alive, he would always tell me how my parents never wanted me, that I was never supposed to exist, how I was worthless.

He would always hit me whenever we were alone, when my parents were out of earshot, though always made sure it wasn't hard enough to leave a noticeable mark.

And of course, my parents never believed me. They thought Will could do no wrong, that I was overexaggerating. My hands balled up into fist as I felt another burst of anger as I thought of how no one ever listened to me.

When Will moved into my house when he got sick, the abuse was worse. He was too weak to strike me, but his verbal abuse was even worse.

I walked to the front of the house and glanced over to the house next door. While I couldn't remember much from these past couple of weeks--everything felt like I was in another place, somewhere far from here. I was on the outside looking in--I did remember in the few moments of clear consciousness that I had, I remembered this girl who resembled a goddess kept coming around me. She had long black hair and bright blue eyes. I couldn't place her name--something with an L?--but I knew she was important. I knew she had a lot of relevance to what was going on with me.

As I was coming to on the roof, I looked out and saw her going inside the house across the street from me with two elderly women. I swear, the elderly woman with straight black hair had turned around before she went inside the house and winked at me. Even from where I'd been standing up on the roof, I could see the amusement on her face before she shut the door behind her.

I shook my head as I quietly slipped inside, weirded out by the whole thing. I paused in front of the doorway and glanced around, listening intensely, trying to see if Mom or Dad were up.

When I didn't hear anything, I started to make my way to my room but paused in the hallway. I stood in front of that damning picture of me, Mom, Dad, and Will when we had that picnic at the park two days before Will died. Mom, Dad and Will were smiling genuinely for the picture while I gave a half-assed smile, wishing I was anywhere but there. I always hated being around Will. Always.

I glared at the photograph for a few minutes, remembering all the times Will had torn me down, remembering how no one believed me, of all the times I'd been alone.

I knew Mom and Dad were going to be furious, but I honestly didn't give a shit.

I grabbed the picture and took it off the wall. I stormed into the kitchen and threw the photo in the trash, shoving it down to the very bottom of the trash.

As I did it, I suddenly felt lighter. All the rage, anger, and torment that had been boiling inside me ever since Will started abusing me, it all went away. A huge weight was now lifted off my shoulders.

I smiled as I felt a huge problem I had been facing for years disappeared. I was now leaving this behind. I was going to stop letting what Will did affect me. I was going to move on with my life now. I refused to let what he did impact who I was as a person, and what I was going to do in life.

"Goodbye, Will," I whispered. "Goodbye forever."