The tall trees that stretch towards the sun cannot hide the sun’s intense shine or even worse, its heat. As people busily brush each other off to get to their destination, I sit and gaze at them in your favorite, old pastime: people watching.
My knees are up to my chest as my arms loosely fall over them, my elbows touching my bony knees. I bite at my bottom lip gently, more of something to do than what it first was.
I twist my fingers restlessly as I watch the people go by. My gaze stabs through them and for a moment I debate silently whether I should change into something a bit more freely.
You attract my attention like a hawk noticing its prey. Your full set of dark hair was in a ponytail today, but strands on the side were wet with sweat and stuck to your brown skin.
Quickly, I look down at my appearance. I notice my dirty chucks, my worn out gray tee and my rolled up blue jeans. I couldn’t do anything about it now. You notice me and jog down the pavement in dark, strategically-faded jeans and a white shirt.
You stop in front of me, not bothering to dash pass the elevated pavement of my building and closer to me. I see the intensity in your gaze as you reach out a hand with your golden brown eyes.
I don’t take it.
Instead, I look pass you altogether-you’re a distant, painful memory. I don’t know why, of all the things in my 18-year period you were the one good thing that happened to me, yet here I sit unable to grasp you as you want me to do so.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were back?” You asked me gently, with saddened eyes.
I continue to gaze past you, not finding the courage to answer.
“I-I heard it from Marvin. He was with Daisy yesterday and she told him she called your mother. Every night around seven I walk pass your window, hoping one day you’d come here and everything would be better. Not okay, but…just better,” You tell me, and then continue, “Why better, John, you might ask me…well, because I believe that somewhere inside you you’re not punishing yourself. That last summer was just a big mistake. It was just a big misunderstanding.”
You reach and grasp my hand, “But don’t you see, Josie? I’m still here. I won’t let anything hurt you. Not your mother or her stupid, ------- boyfriend. Not your ‘friends’ or the rest of those -------- at that school, I’m still here, Josie. I won’t run-”
Why? Oh, why? Please! Run-run away from me! Run far away from me. I’m-
“You’re not tarnished, Josie. Don’t you believe that one bit.” You tell me firmly, reading my mind.
My head rolls down and I cover my face from you, from the lies you tell me. You’re good, but I can’t trust anyone anymore, especially myself.
“You know what, Josie?” And you make the effort to laugh when I don’t respond, “Why don’t we get a bite to eat, huh? I’m starving! Are you starving? Is your mother home?”
I don’t answer.
“Oh, Josie…Josie, Josie, Josie-where did we go wrong? What did they do to you up there?” You ask yourself more than me after a moment of silence.
I feel you caress my hand and then lay a kiss on it, a warm one. I shiver at your touch and you catch my reaction.
“Did they drug you night after night? Did they keep you in solitary confinement? Did they infest your mind with ideas of wronging yourself and your future? …did they steal who you were, love? My Josie…?” You whisper to me and my brows furrow as my head slowly rises.
“I displease you.” You state.
I make effort to speak, my words fumble over one another and you cannot understand.
“Josie?” You say.
At the sound of my name I finally speak weakly, “Leave me alone…I’m not yours.”
My eyes roll back a bit as I fight to focus and grasp this world, our world, not the other-not the darkness.
“We weren’t anything…we weren’t together. I knew what I was doing. I did it. It’s done with. You shouldn’t be here.” I set you straight tiredly.
“No, no don’t say that.” You whisper to me and firmly grip my hand as I try to pull away.
I shake my head in protest and shut my eyes, “Go away.”
“Josie, I can’t do that-” You tell me and start to plead.
The voices are beginning to spark the fire in my head. The fire that once led me down and into an abyss of darkness only one summer ago. The voices…oh, the voices.
Fighting, I say, “Go away!”
Wildly, I roll my head around once and something in my mind snaps. The realization of complete and utter turmoil, my death, engulfs me and I don’t care anymore.
“I can’t!” You beg with me.
“Well, what do you want me to say then? That you were ever important to me, in my life, John? That’d be lying, you weren’t. The one, good thing was not important to me. You never were, okay! My friends, the boys-the whole damn crew, that’s what I ran after! You followed me like a lost puppy and I freaking hated it! I hated you and my mother. I was s*** at the beginning of last summer, John. Nothing! Now, I’m even worse.” I laugh, I laugh right out until it pains my stomach to do so.
When I meet your eyes for a minute they seem black, you gaze at me silently and I can imagine filled with rage.
“You weren’t nothing-you were perfect,” You start forlornly, “You had the perfect friends, perfect mom-it was almost as if it were all out of a catalogue, it was surreal. You thought your life was going nowhere. You felt nothing was happening, with your mom dating and not paying attention to you. You were bored. You wanted to have fun. You confused danger and fun and it scarred you for life last summer. So much you don’t know up and down if it isn’t heroin and a dirty needle.”
Your last words make me shudder and I cover my mouth with my backhand quickly.
“You probably don’t remember, Josie, but when we were sophomores we went on a trip during biology. We went to the aquarium. It was nice…you felt my classmates and me were all losers, I could tell by your first glances but nevertheless for the first time you befriended me. You wanted my scarf, my navy blue scarf, because it was cold in the aquarium. You complimented me on it and for the rest of the month I wouldn’t wear it, because it had your fruity smell.
“It was the middle of January then. I was freezing my butt off whenever I left for school. But I wouldn’t wear it. It reminded me so much of you…I could remember your smile when I handed it to you. The way you clutched it, grateful. When you rested your hand over mine and were my friend for the rest of that trip. You only spoke to me for the rest of our days at Lakewood if you needed something, but I always brushed it off.”
Your tone hardens and I cringe, “I didn’t know I didn’t mean anything to you when you cried for my help that night you thought you were going to die of an overdose. Why’d you call me, huh? Why not Daisy, or Jessica or Brenda? Larry? Jason? Brandon? You just thought you could bat your eyelashes and pressure me to keep your dirty little secret, but when I called your mom and she took you to that rehab center your eyes screamed of hatred for me.”
“You’re carried away.” I make the effort and meekly spit at you.
“Oh?” You raised your dark eyebrows, “That didn’t happen? Well, I guess it’s just me then. I’m sorry. I don’t care about you. You’re fine. Everything’s…fine. You’re not lost. You’re not a lost little girl caught up in trying to find who she is like any girl or teenager, but getting mixed up in the wrong things. It was just me.”
I meet your ice-cold eyes and gulp slowly, holding my head up high.
You let go of my hand and you’re no longer after me, longing for me with your naïve brown eyes and gullible laugh and forgetful, sweet smile.
“Goodbye, Josie,” You say quietly, “I guess I was just caught up myself in the idea of you and not you as a person.”
You turn and begin to walk down the pavement slowly as I gaze after you.
I remember hugging your scarf to me in order to invite you into having a conversation with me, because there was no one else really around.
I remember running my hand flirtatiously through your hair to get a pencil from you during biology class.
I remember kissing your cheek to try to get a ride home when my metro card expired.
I remember first shunning you last summer, because I was so moody over heroin.
I remember dialing your number that night of my overdose, sensing I went too far.
I remember arguing with you at the hospital that day it was revealed I’d go to the rehab institution.
You were there.
You were always there.
My breathing hitches.
I need you. I need you to help pull me out of this darkness. It’s cold and unwelcoming and I don’t like it anymore. It’s not fun anymore.
“W-wait.” I say silently, moreover mute.
You don’t hear.
Nevertheless, you turn as if telling me you still can’t turn away.
You meet my eyes uncertainly.
“Can-can we get a bite to eat? I’m starving.” I stammer.
A pause then, your amber eyes twinkle at my question.