It was an accident

I swallowed the tasteless heat in my tea, and felt my body warm as the lights went out. Pulling my shirt away from my body, I slap the back of my hand against the fabric, beating against its resistance, so the cool air spreads along my chest and the sweat freezes, still. I drank the last few swigs of tea as it cooled, and kept myself awake.

The box sits still on the floor, as it always has. Alive as it were when we filled it with evidence that I’ve lived once before this guilt. You have to move your body, you have to forget.

The box breathes and shouts at me. Watch out. Liar. Killer. I didn’t add the recording to the box, voices, voices. Even the things that spilled out, or the toys that she never played with, so why does it haunt me now? We didn’t keep her socks, the white knitted cloth that clung to her tiny ankles. Only happy things stay in the box.

Those toys… they weren’t toys we bought for her. She wasn’t our child.

The memories grew like the strands of hair on my head that clung to my face, they fell in the form of rain, pitter patter, pitter patter. As I bend my body, the past crawls on the wall over the white paint, right next to my shadow. My reading light got knocked over by the wind of my lungs as I huffed through tired bones, or fear. I don’t remember holding so much strength inside my muscles, but at least the smell of rain outside my window reminds me that the earth knows the full story.

There's no protection from darkness, some might think there is. Sure granddad would help me. He would give something sturdy and logical to hold me up. Like his stories from his time or riddles that you only seem to understand years after they were said… makes me forget that I will one day lose him.

Flashback

‘Life is but a passing wind grandson, no one goes through without being blown to the left and to the right, ‘

’But why did I have to be on the wrong side, grandad… I thought I had everything under- ?’

‘You can’t control it…You will tire yourself… life changes direction faster than a peregrine falcon. You can’t catch them fast enough to make them obey you.’

‘When will it get better?’

‘It comes and it goes. But you must not hide… you couldn’t hide from your birth, why would it be so to hide from a sudden thing…?’

‘It’s too much burden granddad, I can’t keep going like this’

‘It will make you strong son… The depth that carries your burden is where young men like you grow their muscles…

‘So you’re saying I should go to the gym?’

He didn’t respond, but he did the classic grandad thing. Rolling up his sleeve and kissing his soggy biceps.

*

In his time, murder was just a word and everyone was afraid to commit to the voice in their heads. When he was a little cherry (what granddad called young and sweet with very little life experience) streets were clean and no one was holding up a flag saying they wanted murder to be legal without repercussions.

I did my time. I am no longer the one to blame.

At least you had the nerve to exercise when no one knows when and how you are going to die, you would be strong in the grave. The man that breathed these words was faceless and short with a fairly large head, he might’ve been me. He might’ve been a voice. Invisible . Just a figment of my imagination.

‘You awake, Grandad?’

‘Power outage at this time of night, I thought I had gone blind’

‘I know, it's annoying. Remember where you placed your meds?’

‘If the lights were on I would know exactly where it is’

‘not saying you forgot already are you?’

He laughed and threw the box of pills at me that I caught. Surprisingly.

It's been a habit of mine now, to test how much he remembers, the doctors said to keep his mind active and strong.

He knew more than anyone… I was born with two hands that were best left at my side and not around a steering wheel. Most certainly not catching something coming towards my face. Like blood splatter through broken glass. But this was a box of pills.

‘Said the weather would be nice out, tomorrow… might be fun to go out to that forest I took you to… you remember the fence with all those ribbons tied up?’

I held the light closer to my face, not intentionally. I just had an itch on my nose and happened to have used the wrong hand. The one holding the reading light. I wouldn’t be surprised if I looked like someone who had just broken in. A creep. A changing face with something bad behind the eyes.

‘Killing your old man out in the forest for a joke, are we. Clever bloke… never would’ve thought of the ribbons being the cause of my death…’

Grandad always said there’s two sides to a coin.

I’m not sure if my blood was boiling or I was just protecting him from the giant doll behind him. It fell behind him like a limp pile of clothes, before I had time to finish my thought.

*

He liked wearing his faint yellow sweater and his pleated grey trousers, his accessory was always his grey bowler hat that he got from eBay.

His walking stick was sort of like his third leg, but not exactly. It was a part of him, in the same way a killer is your grandson when you get old.

Grandad is not a bad person despite many things, I can remember the times he would try to make me feel better. He made me feel like a boy or a young man, as he would say — that made mistakes but never ones that were on purpose.

I started taking refuge in words when I couldn’t sleep at night, even the ones I repeat to myself. Words from just about anyone, even you if I ever knew the kind of person you were.

The cars zipped past as if there were no speed limits. I guess this was a code only written for city life.

Grandad has a weird way of slipping through my fingers, of scaring the jeans off my legs, like someone possessed. He would stare at the cars coming by when we'd wait at the stoplight, sometimes without blinking.

What if he steps forward…

Grandad is more alert than I am, what am I thinking? Sometimes it feels like I am older than he is with aches in my knees and back, and spiders in my brain, sometimes it feels like I am the one losing sight of reality. They said it came with being young, but I am sure those facts were written backwards.

For some reason, we deviated from our original plan of going to the forest of secrets and instead went to the forest of the abbeys. It's the way life works when you have a feeling that something good or bad is about to happen. So you change your plans to bypass the ruin...

I saw her socks or one that looked similar to the one she was wearing, on a fallen tree.

I tried hard not to pick it up. I chose to look at the back of grandads head instead. His hat was a weird contrast between the fallen trees and green leafs. Even though his body was bent forward and supported by his walking stick, he looked as strong as ever, taking those long strides. The cool breeze roamed around the leaves, and through the hairs on my sleeveless arms. I looked up instinctively, and above my head were branches crossing over and leaves dangling.

Grandad's smile was the sort that made you miss him even though he's still there.

'Alright back there'

'uh-huh. -'

‘…Might take a seat if we get by a bench further up.’

'sure, go ahead, I'll catch up'

Two sides of a coin.

It was at that moment grandad shrunk to the height of that little girl. The same little girl in those white socks. She was crossing the road and I lost control. I couldn't stop, I swear, now she's here. I felt the weight of something in my dominant hand, and before I could register what it was. It hit her and she fell to the ground.

'hey… hey!’

'hmm?'

"Is this your stop?’

'oh sh*t, yeah. Sorry. I ordered an Uber didn’t I. crazy night out drinking. I can’t tell if I am here or not. Am I real? I don’t even know what part of this whole thing was a dream. Did I kill some-…’

I scratched my head, and let out a loud burp.

‘I don’t want any part of this mate, get out of my car or I’ll get you out myself’