Time is supposed to heal everything. Yet, in my lifetime I have found that time heals nothing. Nope, sure enough I had to be the one exception. I just had to be the one person that time rips the hole in my chest wider and wider, when it is supposed to close it. My tears are never given a chance to dry. My mind is never given the break that I need. I just relive my past everyday through the pain that pulses through my as smooth and natural as blood. I pray every day that I can make it till I get home before I completely lose it. I never want to upset people with my problems. So, I get up and try to fake a smile through the day. Then as soon as I get home I check my room to make sure it is empty. I put my trunk against the closet and my bookshelf in front of my door. That way I feel safe from all my fears as I sit on my bed crying my eyes out. I feel myself slowly becoming like a zombie. As the days pass I am just a body abandoned by my soul which fled for hell months ago. Why wouldn't it? Hell would be better than this.
A wise person told me once answers might be able to free me from the pain. However, the person who broke me down to the shell I am now is long gone. I tried asking the pictures, but they could not answer me. They are just perfect little fools that sat happily on a bookshelf till I burned them all in a fit of rage. I just find it so hard to believe that someone I loved once with all my heart could do this to me. I truly believe that he was my hero sent from heaven to rescue me. He was going to make everything so perfect. He was the only person I can say I ever really needed. He could make me happy when hell was right outside my window. I guess in reality he was only a thief. He stole everything that used to make up me. He stole my heart, my dreams, and my will to move on.
In all honestly things might get better if I found the courage to leave this place. However, what is left of my heart reminds me how cold it would be to give up on my family. In reality I have no family, but when people care so much about you. When they would bend over backwards to help you or die to save you, how could you not call them family. They are the last piece of normal life I have right and I would never allow myself to do anything that would hurt them. Then again sometimes I do think about how nice it would be to just turn the other way and run. Sometimes I think about how free I could be if I did. I think about jumping in the river to cleanse away all my pain before starting my life over. A rebirth is exactly what I need, but I could never be able to have that experience in this little town.
So, I just get up and try to act like I am moving on. I sit in the shower for longer than I normally would because I can let the last few tears escape in my last peaceful moments. Before I walk out the door I put on my makeup to cover up the age I have gained in this whole ordeal. You never realize how much you love make up till you notice bags under your eyes when you are barely nineteen. I take a breath and put on my fake smile before walking out of my bedroom. "Morning." My roommate says in his thick ascent as his big brown eyes stare right through me. "Morning." I reply softly as I walk towards the kitchen trying my hardest to ignore the full length mirror that rest on the closet door. But, like always it captures me. I look at my growing stomach in the mirror for a second and wonder how much longer I can hide it. How much longer do have to wallow in my own pain before my family starts to piece everything together? In my mind I know it won't be much longer, but my heart still prays for more time. "I went ahead and packed your lunch because I have noticed you haven't been taking anything with you lately." My roommate said as he led me to a brown paper bag and a pile of messages that I have been letting build up over the past week.
"Thank you." I choked out as I grabbed the bag before walking towards the door. "I guess I am off to the salt mines." I said with a weak laugh as I opened the door. I just turned around to see my morning wave from my roommate. I ran down the stairs and out to the beat up old car that I got from my best friend's father a few months ago. I drove across town trying not to look around, but like always the beat up sign and the black El Cameo in front of the record store take my last breath right from me. I let a few tears fall before I push the pain to the back of my mind. I pull up to the Sunshine Inn and try to remember why I need this job. It's hard to remember that as I pull a cleaning cart down the hallway.
"Is there something you want to talk about?" Mary the owner asked as she caught up with me in the hallway. I just shook my head. "Well, this is the third time I have had to size up your uniform." She said as she handed me a new black dress.
"I just gained weight it happens." I replied softly as I looked at her. Her black hair and sweet smile. She reminded me of everything I wanted my mother to be. She was so caring and loving.
"Right…you don't have to be alone through this." She said as she hugged me before she disappeared down the hall. I just looked down at my little bump and tried to smile. I should be happy about this right…expecting mothers are supposed to be happy. So, what's wrong with me? Why can't I be happy? Am I really that terrified at having to look at his blue eyes staring up at me from the body of his little mini me? He wasn't always someone I had to hate. I used to love him. I always loved him until he brought her home. In all honesty I still love him. I hold my breath each day, waiting for him to come through the door. I would give anything to hear him say that he left that little whore, that he realized we were always meant to be. I bet if he were here by my side I would let myself be happy about this baby. We could have made a perfect family. Why did I have to let things get this messed up?
Leaving work was easier than coming in. As I passed the record store and that familiar old car I knew that I had time to visit with some of the family. I drove up to the house that sat right in the middle of the perfect Point Place neighborhood. It was the American dream staring right in my face. I walked up to the sliding doors that led into the kitchen. I couldn't remember the last time I actually used the front door. I just smiled at the older blonde haired woman who ran to greet me. "Oh there she is." She squealed as she hugged me. "I can't believe that you didn't tell me first." She said as she looked at me.
"What are you taking about?" I asked her.
"Oh silly me." She said as she ran over to the counter and picked up a piece of paper. "I swear we found it on accident. I was just trying to surprise you with that new lamp and this was sitting there on the desk. Oh I can't believe I am going to be a grandma." She said as she handed me then ultrasound picture that I had been avoiding looking at. I just sat down at one of their kitchen chairs trying to think.
"You didn't tell Steven did you?" I asked weakly as I looked up at her.
"No why would I?" She asked me before she pieced it together in her head. Her face lit up like the fourth of July sky when she did. "Why did Fez say it was his?" She asked me as she hugged me.
"I just need out of here." I said before I walked out of the house. I drove home in a haze of tears to find an empty apartment. I just moved my trunk in front of the closet and bookshelf in front of the door before falling to pieces on the bed. Maybe if I close my eyes I can wake up and none of this would have happened. Maybe just maybe. But, even in my dreams my life is still in shatters.