© Amber Kalkes 2015
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"Somewhere I Belong" By Linkin Park
Fifteen+
Sitting in the dark I stare at my hands. The only light is from the TV where the music from The Hobbit’s DVD menu keeps playing over and over again. When I woke from the dream the clock told me it was already almost midnight and now looking up at it again, its reading half past two. Wyatt is still asleep on the couch so I’ve been keeping my crying as quiet as possible.
I don’t want him to know how scared I am.
Wiping my eyes on the sleeve of my borrowed t-shirt I bury my face in my hands. The line becoming blurry between who I am and what this thing taking over my body, is a frightening concept. I think most human beings like the idea that we have some kind of idea of who we are. We may be lost, unsure people but we know what we’re about, what we stand for and what disgusts us.
A week ago I may have thought about killing Adam but would I have really done it? I don’t know. I don’t know what I’d do but I do know what I did. Was it my idea or was it just this darkness finally beginning its hostile takeover? I don’t know and not knowing is the most frightening thing I think we can ever face.
Getting to my feet I know I can’t just stay here and wallow in this. I need to get out and breathe. Still, knowing Wyatt I don’t think he’ll let me so I try to keep as quiet as I can while heading to grab my coat. As I watch his sleeping form I pull the fake fur coat off the coat rack, making sure he doesn’t even twitch.
My eyes are still squarely on him as I pull on my coat and my sneakers. Still dressed in his pajama pants and his baggy t-shirt I know I probably look like a bag lady but I don’t care. I just need a minute to think.
As soon as I close the door quietly behind me I turn and jog down the three flights of stairs to get to the front exit of the building. Pushing the heavy door open I’m unsurprised to see that the streets are pretty much dead. In the early mornings there isn’t much going on in this part of town, party central being uptown, so I take joy in the solitude this offers.
Looking around I decide to go left and start walking that way when I spot another late night walker. She’s obviously coming from uptown with her messy blonde hair, tight sequined dress and smeared mascara. Her color is blue, like Wyatt’s but dark and a bit cloudy. She wobbles a little on her heels and I watch her with interest as she sniffles a few more times.
Mistrustful. Denial. Controlling.
“What the hell are you looking at?” She yells at me, making me jump.
“S-Sorry.” I stumble out. “Are you okay?”
She wipes her nose. “I’m fine. What do you care?”
“I don’t. I’m just curious.”
She stops glaring and her face turns into surprise. She blinks rapidly a few times, still hiccupping from what I’m guessing to be earlier hysterics. After a minute she laughs a bit harshly and runs her hands through her hair.
“Well that’s the most honest thing I’ve heard all night.”
I shrug but don’t respond. She rolls her eyes before reaching into her tiny silver purse and pulls out a pink gemstone encrusted cigarette case. Flipping it open she takes out a pink cigarette, I shit you not pink. It takes her a few tries to get between her glossy lips but after she does she produces a Barbie pink lighter to match.
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