The Goodbye I Never Said Out Loud

I think of you often.

The life you should have lived. Who you would have become.

But didn't.

We looked alike - back then. I was younger.

You were murdered at ten-years-old. You died right next to me - by a monster.

I never understood why. Still don't.

We were so young back then. You had a confidence about you that I lacked at my eight-years-old. 

I didn't understand - until it was too late.

They wrestled us both to the ground.

I tried to tell you to let them do what they wanted. It had happened to me many times. I knew to play robot.

I remember turning my head. My eyes were pleading.

Don't fight them! It makes it worse. 

You didn't stop fighting.

He got mad. He hurt you more. 

Then you stopped.

I saw it all.

After - You laid sprawled on the dirt, unseeing eyes staring into the cerulean sky. Naked. The memory etched into my brain forever.

It should never have happened.

He just left you there, dusted himself off and started shouting and swearing. He went crazy, and tried to go for me too.

My monster stopped him.

The monsters put you in that black garbage bag, tied it and left you in the stifling heat.

After I was forced away, I couldn't help looking back to see if you had tried to get free. They wouldn't let me see but I managed one eye through a tight hand over my face.

You never moved.

I screamed at them to help you. 

I was hysterical by seeing you in that black garbage bag. Like you were trash that needed to be thrown away.

We had just played a game. I wanted to play more. I couldn't understand what had happened.

I wanted to know you were okay.

I guess part of me knew - even back then, that your life had ended.

The national newspaper put your picture on the front page. Your face on milk cartons.

No one believed the eight-year-old me, when I tried to explain what happened. My words wouldn't come. It was as if my voice couldn't speak those words about what happened to you - and to me.

Yet, I lived. I'm still alive - decades later.

Your life ended at age ten.

It doesn't seem fair.

You should have lived. Had your first kiss and slow dance with your first love. Lost your virginity in the back of a truck. Gone through high school and off to college and become someone. You should have had the opportunity to fall in love and get married. Maybe even had your own family someday - if you wanted to.

You should have lived, and I feel deeply sorry that you didn't.

I was there that day. I couldn't stop them. 

I will never forget you.

I have had the opportunities I spoke of. I have loved, and felt true happiness. I have had the gift of having children. I have witnessed many things.

I have never forgotten you. Instead I have carried you as I experienced life. In some ways I have lived my life because I knew you couldn't.

I found out recently that your killer was caught, and he hung himself in prison a long time ago. I wish I had found out sooner because the man haunts me in my dreams.

My monster is still out there. He was never caught.

He let me live that day.

I still wonder why.

My name is Lizzy. I'm a trauma survivor, a wife, a mom, a teacher, and an author.

If you like reading my posts, then please follow me.

For more about me: www.elizabethwoodsauthor.com

Support your fellow writer:

https://ko-fi.com/elizabe69245484