Latest Fiction Post
- Rock Bottom September 11, 2018
Droplets of water clung to the window screen, suspended in a row like mini planets. The rumbling of thunder from the retreating storm was faint, more of an echo. Outside, yellow police tape marked off the edge of the trees. I couldn’t see her body from my bedroom, but less than a yard away were the tread marks from the gurney. The police found her too late. Hell, maybe the Amber Alert was too late.
Cause of death: Suicide. Not self-induced asphyxiation. Too personal. Don’t want to give other teenagers ideas. But I saw the police carry the rope to the car. It was yellow, the kind you’d use to hang a kid’s swing. It looked ordinary.
We’d graduated high school together only a month ago, survived teenage torment. I hadn’t lived it yet, but somehow real life seemed worse. No safety nets, only rock bottom. We were baby birds jumping out of the nest praying to God we wouldn’t fall. Not hard to imagine how someone would crack under the pressure. If we all die, why endure the struggle?
I asked my parents for black-out blinds. I stopped looking out the window, avoided all windows actually. Each day I passed the police tape. The investigation closed quickly. The tape had been abandoned, forgotten. Maybe they left it up as a deterrent, so kids wouldn’t go in the woods. Maybe no one wanted to remove it.
Latest Poetry Post
- Voluntary Purgatory September 13, 2018
staring at laminated infographics plastered around the doctor’s offices;
staring at our phones, holding our breath and hoping to receive a text.
rereading the inspirational poster stuck to the ceiling, hoping the dentist’s drilling will end soon;
counting down the days to the next holiday, the next vacation, the next party.
for that person we like to say something first.
til the alcohol kicks in before we admit to our feelings.
until they’re gone to tell them how we feel.
Better to wait for the right time,
wouldn’t want to look stupid.