Frozen October

Sometimes it surprises her when she remembers that this once was her favorite place in the world. The place she wanted to be, the place she dreamt of, the place she did everything in her power to avoid leaving. Now she’d rather be anywhere else, it’s the centerpiece to her nightmares, and she wishes she were strong enough to not come back. It feels surreal to her, the way that everyone else can still act as though there’s nothing unusual about it here.

She tries to let her mind journey somewhere else, set her soul free so that she can enjoy the warm summer breeze off the water just as all the others so carelessly get to. She knows it’s not the summer of ‘79, but the eerie feeling in the cold October breeze that night still haunts her to this day. She can still smell the fall leaves as they flutter down to the earth and begin to decay just as the happiness of her childhood did that day. She can hear the lapping of the gentle waves on the lakeshore, the noise that soothed her at the end of a long day of adventures, nearly putting her to sleep, as it always would, until the peaceful, calming sound was broken by the screams that she hasn’t been able to get out of her head to this day: The same ones that wake her up at night upon occasion. Though since she’s been going to therapy, after finally bringing herself to do it like she’s always wanted while simultaneously been dreading, her nightmares have decreased in frequency, not coming every week as they used to, brought on by the smallest of triggers - passing an unexpected lake while driving on a new route somewhere, hearing a sudden noise that reminds her of the shrieks, they have not ceased entirely. She still can’t shake the memory completely. While she’s here, she rarely is able to escape the feeling she ended that day with, and held on to a tiny piece of ever since.

She asks herself why she even comes back up here, but she knows that her aunt isn’t getting any younger and she can’t imagine not getting to spend time with her because she lets something from so long ago get in the way. There’s no way she’s letting the darkness win. Once was enough.

But still, knowing all this doesn’t make it any easier to be here - where it happened. A piece of her broke that day that was never to be returned. It’s even harder that the place where it had to happen, the focal point of the scar is also the place that used to bring her so much peace. Her home base where she would recenter when the world was too much that day became the most difficult struggle she’s ever faced, aside from living with it since.

Staring off across the water, before she catches herself, her mind wanders into its depths and the secrets it holds. She’s back in that chilly, fall day. No one expected the temperature to drop off like that just yet, it wasn’t forecasted to for another week or so, so she was wearing a not-warm-enough dress and flip-flops, which had already been unseasonal anyway, but no one was able to talk her out of them and, to be honest, everyone would rather have her wear those than have nothing on her feet, so there they remained, the last grasp on summer. She was enjoying some last moments on the water’s edge before she was supposed to go in to get washed up for bedtime. Soaking up every minute in that setting sun, appreciating its beauty like it could be her last time seeing it. Although she survived that night, it was the last time she saw a sunset that clearly, that untainted with memories that would never allow their beauty to be as purely enjoyable since.

She knew it was getting darker, so she was anticipating hearing her mother calling her name, beckoning her in for the evening. It was getting a little bit darker than usual, and she was beginning to get suspicious, although, at the same time, she wanted to see how far she could push it and was reveling in the newly found adult-like freedom she seemed to be gaining - and then the cool air was broken by the most painful sound she has ever heard. She didn’t know at first what was happening, her mind couldn’t process it as quickly as it was taking place. All her brain knew, the second she realized the sound was being produced by her aunt, was to run, as fast as her tired, small legs were able, in flip-flops, to reach the source of the agony-dripping wails. Her heartbeat thumped in her ears and her breathing became increasingly shallow as the sand flew behind her while she put more distance between her and the sunset and her innocent, carefree, playful, child’s mind. She didn’t even know what to fear that she would find, she didn’t have the time or real-world corrupted mind to think it up, so when she arrived at the doorstep of her family’s lakehouse and scrambled up the steps, falling to her hands and knees as she lost her footing along the way in her haste, she was not prepared.

Her aunt, hysterical, was kneeled down over her mother who was lying there, in a puddle of blood, beside her father and cousin. When her aunt realized she was there, when she turned around and saw her, frozen in the doorway, she hurried to shield her from the sight, but not in time for the image to be burned in her mind’s eye for the rest of her life. The place was a disaster, and it was clear from the moment they laid pained eyes on the scene, even before it was confirmed by the detectives who later arrived when her aunt got it together enough to call the police, that it had been a burglary, and that her and her aunt were lucky to have been out on the shore enjoying the sunset colors on the water at the time that it had occurred. Yes, they were so “lucky.” That’s just the word she’d use to describe her life since.

She’s still frozen in the doorway.

“Molly? Molly?! It’s 2021, not ‘79.” She’s brought back to the present by her husband’s voice. “What? Oh, I know. I’m here.”

“You drifted back for a minute. You weren’t hearing a thing I was saying. You were zoned out.”

“Yeah, sorry. I’m back; I’ll stay present.”

“You’re sure you’re alright?”

“Yes. Thanks honey.”

“Okay, if you’re sure. You know I’m always here.”

“I know.”

She really is going to try her best to stay present. She chit-chats with her aunt about things happening in the lives of people they both know and current events. She’s present in their conversations and can find a smile and even a laugh sometimes, but a part of her has never returned from the dark place it went that autumn. There’s always a piece of her that stays frozen in that doorway.