Gray clouds slowly slide across the sky threatening to unleash a torrent of rain. I sit with my back against a large tree trunk watching the storm’s opening act. The bark is rough and splinters easily around me. I pick up a large broken piece off the ground and turn it over in my hands. It’s gritty and smells of the earth. It’s seen many days.
I’ve seen many days. Many days in the same four walled home. I’ve watched the same people come and go. Day in and day out. Now here I am - in this wide open field. Unaware of how I got here. Unaware of how to leave.
Trees rustled unseen in the dark as Tracy slowly walked up the forested path to the mountain top. Her fading flashlight and the cloud covered moon were of little help. But she knew this path well and wasn’t worried. The cliff had been her father’s favorite spot to paint and he often took her up there since she was a child.
Her feet kicked small stones and sticks as she walked. The biggest threat was a downed branch that could trip her but the yellowed light was enough. If she fell, no one was close enough to help. She was alone, having left everyone back at the party.
She didn’t know how it had all gone so wrong. The laughs, the drinks, the final goodbye. It had been so perfect. Until it wasn’t. Her mind tried to focus on the steps but her heart was sobbing.
Don’t break down. Not here.
After a few more minutes of slow walking, the forest fell away and revealed a large expanse of blue-black sky. Glittering stars and faraway homes lit up for dinnertime dotted the valley. She saw the big rock her father had always sat on with her and it triggered a nostalgic wave that trembled under her skin. If only time could go backwards.
She sat down on the rock and finally let herself cry. Her loud sobs were absorbed by the woods behind her and the nothingness of air in front of her. Why had she let him go? Why?
I’m on alert as I head towards our living room. What’s behind the corner? Could be anything. I walk close to the wall to avoid any unnecessary detection.
A crinkle sound stops me in my tracks. What was that? I crouch low to the floor and listen intently. It could be something out to kill me. Or it could be food.
Deciding to investigate, I cautiously take a few steps forward. I pause and wait then take a few more steps. When I get to the end of the wall, I peer my head around. Nothing.
I run as fast as I can and hop onto the couch. I knead the cushions a few times to make them comfortable. Perfect. Now it’s time to relax and sleep for the next 16 hours.
Maria lay propped up on the couch surrounded by pillows and covered by three blankets that couldn’t keep the chills away. She stared at the wall wondering if this was the end of it all. Death by boredom.
Her head pounded every time she blinked. Her nose was unusable and the air scratched her throat with every breath. She needed a distraction but the room was silent and the TV was dark.
Cursing her earlier self for not prepping the couch better before laying down, she tried to turn her head. She could see the table - it was within reach. All it would take is moving the blankets off her body. An impossible task.
She had to try. Her arms felt heavy as she slowly moved them under the blankets. Muscles protested and cried in agony. It was as if they had been tenderized and flattened.
She tried to lift her head but her neck refused to flex and stayed stiff. Exhausted at the small movements, she collapsed her body back into the couch and pillows. There was nothing left in her.
“John?” Her voice cracked and croaked. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Johnny?”
Steps from the kitchen let her know she’d been heard. Her boyfriend came around the corner.
“Aw babe, what’s up? You look awful.” He walked over to the couch and tucked her in a little tighter. “Anything I can do?”
“Remote.” She whispered.
It doesn’t make sense. The logistics don’t add up. I have to go. I’ve planned to go. I’m all packed up - ready to leave. There’s a plan in place I need to keep. A checklist of things I need to check off.
But looking at you, Beautiful you. The world in your eyes Staring at me, inviting me. My plans - they fall - apart. Your smile awakens curiosity. A need to feel your touch, a need to Throw out the checklist. The path before me unknown. Unplanned.
Sunday was the day we gathered to say a final farewell to Mica. I wore my best dress and curled my hair. The table was set for brunch with a colorful array of food and drink.
Today, Mica was leaving us to go on a trip. Collectively, we weren’t sure where, but she promised us it was a good one and she was looking forward to it so we sent her off happily.
Last month we had to say goodbye to Jenny and it had not been easy. She fought and didn’t want to go even though it was best for all of us. This week, I was more comfortable and knew what to say to a retreating friend.
We drank and ate and ate and drank while Mica told stories of how she found us and how each of us had affected her. One by one we went around and thanked her for being with us. My turn was last.
“Mica,” I started. “I don’t know how to top these beautiful stories from the others. You showed up when I was 7 and desperately in need. You took charge of my life and protected me from the worst of the worst. I can never repay you.”
Mica reached out and put her hand over mine. I smiled and continued. “Thank you for being a friend. I’ll never forget you. And I’m sorry it’s time to let go.”
She nodded and let go of my hand. I watched as she faded away until there was only a yellow chair left.
“Goodbye.” I wiped away a tear and sat up straighter. Her loss was palpable in the room.
“How do you feel?” A man’s voice pulled me from my scene.
“I feel… okay I guess. Mica was one of the oldest with me.”
“I know, it’s good to start with the hardest. And from here on, the treatment will only get easier.”
“Thank you, Dr. Gibbins.”
“Take a moment to process and we’ll regroup in a few. Then you can return to your room for the day.”
As he left the room, I sat back in the leather armchair thinking about the effort this was taking. Everyone thought my friends were imaginary and that didn’t sit right with them so here I was, being treated. For no reason as far as I could tell. We were a family and happy. My days were full of gossip and chatter and laughter. But if others couldn’t see it, somehow it was the wrong way to live.
I looked over at Mica and Jenny who were standing on the other side of the room. I held back a wave and smile as I knew the right game to play now. Next month I’ll say goodbye to another but I’ll always keep them around. Real friends never split up.
Wind blew my hair across my face as I walked down to the pier to confront the last man I had trusted. I didn’t know if he was going to be there, but all my sleuthing showed he fished off this pier on Saturday mornings so I figured I had a 50/50 shot, minimum.
The morning air felt clean and crisp but smelled of fish and wet metal. It reminded me of the boathouse I grew up in. He knew about those memories and he knew how much it hurt. I couldn’t realistically believe that he wouldn’t know I’d come for him. He must be looking over his shoulder. Prepared, waiting, for me.
Walking down the final set of stone steps, I noticed a shadowy figure at the end. It had to be him. My heart quickened and jolted my body. He might have been preparing but so have I. I stepped onto the wooden planked pier.
The door looks smaller, The windows darker. It’s the curtains - They’re a different color. And on the door, a wreath we never had. And a mat we never used. “Welcome” A happy home. I stop and stare And remember The fights, the anger, The laughs, the life. Time passed so fast. Where are they now? Where am I? This stranger in the street, Was yesterday my friend.
Janet picked up the tweezers and gently pinched the top right corner of the yellowed page under the glass. Her hand shook as she lifted causing a little shimmy down the paper. Flecks of black dust floated in the air under the bright light. She clamped her wrist with her other hand to steady it.
“Breathe,” she murmured to herself and let out a small exhale. She focused on the humming of the machines that controlled the humidity and temperature.
She lifted the page again, slower this time, until it was hanging straight. She could see light through the page. There were small holes and tears and it was very thin in some places. She spun the tweezers in her hand and laid the page back down on its other side.
Marcy knocked on the dark oak door and waited. She looked at the dings and scratches at the door’s bottom. You’d think they could keep better care of their things with all their money.
“Hiii, welcome, welcome!” The door was flung open by her sister with a child clinging to her neck. “Don’t mind Jayden. He’s having a bit of a tantrum, aren’t you, dear?” She patted his back and kissed his head.
“I’m a little late, sorry. Traffic was awful.” Marcy walked inside. The high-ceiling living room was very untidy. It was covered in toys and what looked like a bunch of cheap blankets. She had better blankets in her apartment.
“No worries, nothing runs on time here.” Her sister laughed and walked into the kitchen. “We were just finishing up the food. Sit anywhere. I don’t know what the others are up to.”
Marcy pushed aside some toys off one couch cushion and sat with her back straight, knees touching. She didn’t want to put her purse down in case one of her sisters many kids ran off with it like last time. The TV was on, but it was muted. What a waste to have to such a giant TV and no one’s watching it.
“Do you want an appy?” Her sister leaned over the open bar that separates the kitchen.
“A what?”
“Ah kids, I’ve been talking their language. An appetizer, something to start with I meant.”
“I’m good, thank you.” Marcy felt disappointment. Her sister had a degree, not just a degree, a whole masters degree and yet here she was, living in less than cleanliness and talking like a child.
“Just a few more minutes.” Her sister walked in and collapsed her body on the couch finally letting go of Jayden, rolling him off her. “So, how are you big sis?”
Marcy watched Jayden pull himself up and sit staring at the TV. His big blue eyes looked like her sisters which looked like their fathers. Genes have been carried on.
“I’m good. You?”
“How’s Bob? Bob, wasn’t it?”
“Tom. We broke up.”
“Ah dear, I’m sorry to hear. Why so?”
“Got bored.” Marcy said nonchalantly but she remembered the tears and yelling from the last fight they had. Tom was adamant about no children and she just wanted the possibility. “What about you? Still with Mark?”
“Still with?” She slapped Marcy’s knee gently. “Of course you silly, we’re going to be ‘still with’ for the rest of our lives.”
Marcy smiled thinly. Of course. A nice house, a large family, the perfect husband. Her little sis had it all.
A timer dinged somewhere from the kitchen at the same time a loud thud came from the hall just as Mark came down the stairs and started yelling about something.
“Such chaos,” Marcy said with a sympathetic look.
“My beautiful chaos.” Her sister smiled.
Marcy watched her stand up, putting Jayden right back around her neck. The quietness of her one bedroom apartment was so much better. She really did have the better life. With a sigh, she stood up herself and went to help her sister with her struggles.
