Short-Sided

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Ugh. Here we go again. I’m exhausted. I am not ready to wake up just yet. As I recollect the trauma that just

overwhelmed my thoughts, I roll over, stretch my arm out with

every ounce of strength I have left, and hardly manage to press

the stop bubble overtaking my phone screen. Managing to get out of bed has been quite a struggle. Once I open my eyes, it feels like I am leaving something behind. My dreams harbor something unresolved, something unfinished.

It’s 6 A.M. I roll my eyes because I know I have nothing to do

today and surely there is no reason for me to be up this early.

I promised myself I would get up for a run, but I have no

intention of actually doing so. I feel so anxious. Like the anticipation of a passing grade. 6:03. I head into the kitchen to grab a drink of water. Maybe that will help. I wish I could just forget it but the memories are stitched until at least noon.

It’s excruciating. I’m not sure if it is pain or emptiness. Not

that you can tell the difference. Both hide in the shadows of

our conscious, clouding our vision. It’s like painting a picture

over the trauma while the nerves torment your ability to stand.

I can see it trying. Trying to peak through. A faint glimmer of

hope shaded by fear and despair. But it never fails to escape.

I used to find joy in things. Like a dive on a hot

summer day or blaring speakers with our favorite tunes.

Grabbing a coffee after school. We used to do that all

the time. I miss her so much. She made it easier. Easier to

exist.

Everyday is difficult. The days are repetitive and I am pulled

in the same sink hole every time I try to walk a few steps

forward. Sometimes I manage to hide my misery under a smile. But

the silence is so loud I can’t hear myself think.

Life is a funny thing. Human kind is so unsettled. If our life

feels full, it’s the fear of losing what we have. If we feel

empty, it is the bitterness of our loneliness which drives our

thoughts. It’s like a misunderstanding that is never understood.

I knew when the smell of breakfast filled my room, I should have

stayed put. I was not up for it this morning. Eyes half shut I

grabbed a water bottle and before I could go hide in my room, she caught me. Stacy. My roommate.

“GOOD MORNING!”

She was too much.

“You want some coffee? I’m making some toast. My mom made

this jell—“

“No thanks, going back to bed!” I shut her down real quick.

Groaning on the inside, I fake a half smile and hop back into my

room and under the covers. She annoys me. I don't mean to be rude, but she bothers me. What makes it worse is

watching someone who just doesn't get it. I mean how could she.

She is naturally untroubled, like I’m talking she is chirpy and positive all the time.

I hate to admit it, but she is actually a pleasant person. Stacy

that is. Extremely kind, full of life. I mean,

the reason I liked her to begin with was because she was just

like her. Just like my sister. Always looking for the good in

people. The good in the world. Both so naive. Sometimes I get an

urge to try and attempt a friendship, but it ends up being too

much of an effort. The thought of it is so draining. My physical

being is convinced it would rather hermit in bed instead.

I still convince myself that her absence was the root of my

pain. My sister. But I was sad long before then. Hollow had a

permanent residence in my soul long before her accident. She was

just the calm in the storm.

We became roommates by accident. Me and Stacy. Well kind of.

Like the, “I had one too many”, accident. I met her through one

of my coworkers. I decided to stay and have some drinks with him

one evening after a shift, and one of his friends met up. That’s

when I met her. Stacy. They knew each other from school. It just

so happened that her roommate had just moved back home, and I

was looking to move out of my mom’s house. Being around my

mother was like rubbing salt on an open wound.

Stacy made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. I had enough money put

away to rent a room, and I definitely could not rent a space on

my own.

“Seriously, thats it?”

“Yes, and then we can just split the cable and utilities.”

I was sold. If I were sober, I might have hesitated a bit but

that night, immediately I was swooned. Then we got to talking.

We talked about our favorite bands. We had a few in common.

Mostly old 90’s alternative and both have a sweet spot for The

Temptations. I think we might have even planned to see a show

together. It’s a little blurry. But by the end of the night you

would have thought we were best friends. I almost forgot.

That’s what the alcohol does for you. But at some point, the

only thing the alcohol numbs is patience.

Later that night, I had a whole bottle of wine to myself. When I

first popped the cork, Stacy was heading out. As I was pouring

myself a glass, she asked if I was hungry. Almost every time she

left to get food, she offered to grab me something. She just

can’t help herself, I thought. I guess it’s nice of her, but I

always refused. Her joy was my despair. I really couldn't take

the over the moon attitude. We’re not buddies. I can get my own

dinner, I thought, I hardly eat as it is.. I don't need any

favors. So of course I lied.

“I’m fine, I already ate, thanks.” But if she really knew

what I was thinking she wouldn't even ask.

I think what got to me the most was the fact that she reminded

me of my sister. They both had this don't care what people think

attitude while still maintaining a happy-go-lucky personality

that attracted everyone in the room. Any problem can be fixed,

my sister would say. You only live once. Ridiculous advice if

you ask me. How did that work out for her? Before you know it

you're six feet under.

They said it was an accident. By the time I made it to the

hospital it was too late. We were meeting for dinner at Tony’s

Pizza. It was dark and the Sheriff said she lost control. But they couldn’t say why. She was probably distracted by this old barn owl that flies in the area. It was always coming out of no where. That could have distracted her. Whatever it was, I do know it was the worst day of my life.

When Stacy left, I pulled out some leftover chips and sat at the

table with my glass of wine. I played some music on my phone

while I just sat there and cried. It was just one of those days.

A little while later, Stacy returned.

She brought me back a plate of fettuccini. It was from Tony’s. I

mean, it wasn't that big of a deal. But that was our favorite

restaurant. Me and my sister. Battling my sanity, the thought

kept racing in my mind… How could she? I must have mentioned

Tony’s fettuccini at some point, but I am almost certain I never

asked for it. Truth is, I couldn't stand the place since my

sister left me. Every time I drive by, or smell Alfredo sauce

for that matter, I only smell death. Not literally, but in that

moment the hole in my heart is filled with darkness that tugs on

my soul. I could feel the life draining from my body once the

aroma traveled inward. She completely overstepped.

I just couldn't take it anymore.

“I told you I DON’T want ANYTHING. What is your problem. I

told you NO!”

“I just thought—”

“You just thought what? You just thought, huh? Well you didn’t think. How do you know what I want. You don't know me. I mean you, jeez I swear I have never seen you without a smile. Always sitting around here with your cheery grin acting like everything is so easy. Well aren't you lucky. You don’t KNOW real pain. You don’t KNOW what it feels like. You sure wouldn't be around here acting like life is full of rainbows if you went through what I have. You don't know how it feels… to lose a sister… the only person in this horrible fucking place that gave a shit about you

—” I paused. I knew I would regret it. But instead of

apologizing I cried, “Just do me a favor and leave me alone.”

It was the first time I’d seen her look solemn.

She looked over and said softly, “I’m sorry”. She paused for a

moment looking down, and then quickly returned her glance at me.

“I know your hurt. But if you let the pain take over..”,

she stuttered with tears in her eyes, “…you’re just waiting

to die”.

I started bawling and stormed away. Like she knew anything. It

just pissed me off. I know she didn't deserve what I said. I

just couldn't control my anger and I wasn't about to say sorry.

Not then. I told her no. I mean, I told her. If she could just

take the hint we wouldn't have had to have this conversation.

I’m not trying to be friends. I don’t need her sympathy. I just

want her to let me be. If I wanted someone to shoot the shit

with I’d move back in with my mom. I’d fake that relationship

instead.

That was the last time I saw her.

I thought I must have really hurt her feelings because the next

day she was gone. She was usually there every morning making

coffee and toast. As if it were on cue, I could hear the coffee

pot beep and the scraping of butter on crisp bread, tempted for

small talk but would never join her. The air was not filled with

a burnt bitterness this morning.

I thought she might be at her parents. They live on the other

side of town. Or so she says. Maybe she was out with friends.

Either way, I thought to myself, I don't know and I don't really

care. I mean, I planned on apologizing when she got back.

When she didn't come home that evening I tried to send her a

text.

HEY STACY,

ARE YOU GOING BE BE HOME TONIGHT?

I THOUGHT WE COULD TALK..

No response.

Another day passed and I didn't hear from her. I tried to give

her a call. No answer. I called again a couple hours later.

Nothing. I started to worry. I started to panic. I didn't know how to get hold of her friends or family, I mean I barely talked to the girl. I felt terrible. I thought maybe I could ask my coworker if he had heard from her. Right as I pulled out my phone to send him a text, I had a call. It was Stacy. Or at least I thought.

“Hello? Stacy?” Pause.

“Is this Jane?”, an older woman asked.

“Yes, this is her.”

It was Stacy’s mom. She told me she was sorry first. She said

that Stacy was in the hospital the last couple days. The other

morning she was not feeling well and checked herself in. They

thought it was just a cold at first. Nothing serious. When she

told me I just couldn't believe it. Impossible. She was so ha..

Failing to fight back the waterfalls down my cheeks, I fell to

my knees. A familiar touch of emptiness crawled through my skin.

Her mother continued for a brief moment and hung up.

I found out a cold was not just a cold for Stacy. A few years

ago she was diagnosed with Leukemia. She knew her time was

limited. And fate unfairly served it’s time. But she didn’t even

tell you, she didn't look sick.

My soul shattered. How selfish had I been. So much time wasted

in anger. So much time wasted in bitterness. Memories lost to my

own self destruction. She was fighting for her life every day,

and I had mine. I was ashamed and defenseless. What I would give

to tell her sorry, to take it back.

A few weeks later I had a dream. I was surrounded by darkness. I

heard voices echo in the distance but there was no one in sight.

Up ahead, I could see a small flickering light. As I got closer,

I felt a warming presence but I could not get there fast enough.

Like walking through quicksand, each step was withheld beneath

me, as the panic started to settle in. I felt everything inside

of me wither in defeat. Unable to push further, I was relieved

when two barn owls came down and lifted me out. As I looked to

each side of me I realized I was flying. The glare ahead was

blinding as I felt the warmth consume me and then I woke up.

Suddenly, there was calm in my heart that I didn't realize was

missing. I knew she was okay. I knew they were.

That next morning I felt different. I can’t say what was

different exactly, but the air felt a little lighter.

I remembered what Stacy said that night, but it meant something

else this time.

“if you let pain take over… you’re just waiting to die”.

I picked up my phone.

“Hello?” I heard on the other end.

Pause.

“Mom….”

“Yes?”

Pause.

“Umm… would you want to go have lunch at Tony’s?”

“…sure, what time.”

“I’ll pick you up at noon!”

“See you then, honey.”

Click.

I threw up my hair, and grabbed my keys and my wallet and was

out the door.

I thought to myself and smiled. Today is a new day.