Sunday, January 27, 2008

Fine

She didn’t know what to feel. She groped for a chair, something to support her as her knees gave out. She sank to the floor, stunned. She wouldn’t cry. Her breath caught in her chest, she took big gulps of air but she choked, and then the tears came. Memories assaulted her, she tried in vain to prevent them from coming, but she couldn’t. Playing piano…reading out loud…washing dishes…staring at the ceiling. Such simple things—she would never before have deemed them important. Air. She needed air. Her hands gripped the counter and she rose to her feet. Somehow, she made it into the cold morning. The sun hadn’t yet started to rise. She stared at the sky, challenging it. Would the sun dare rise on such a day? She was cold. She wondered if she would ever feel warm again, if she would ever feel whole and complete—like a person. She didn’t feel like a person. Suddenly, it was daylight. How long had she been standing there? She turned to look back at the house, reluctant to go inside, to have the images flood her memory. Yet here, too, on the porch, were reminders of the life she’d had yesterday. Yesterday and all the days before. Here on the porch, sitting on a lazy summer day. Drinking hot tea, wrapped up in blankets to watch the leaves change color and fall, cuddling up as the rain and snow came down. She sat down in the wicker chair, the cushion old and worn. It wasn’t her chair. It belonged to yesterday. She felt odd sitting in it. Her arm brushed something furry—it was an old teddy bear. She picked it up and drew it close, holding it tightly in her arms, tears coursing down her cheeks. She hadn’t sought comfort from a teddy bear since she was five years old, and now she clutched it as if it were her lifeline. Pain filled her lungs and she shook her head violently to block out the images she was remembering. She didn’t want to remember. Remembering hurt. A voice called to her from inside and the teddy bear slipped from her grasp. She had to focus. She had to be strong. She stood, gathering all she had left inside of her, breathing deeply, and she went into the house. The voice called her again, and she hurried towards it, assuring it that she was fine and that everything was fine, yet she wondered if she really was and if things would ever really be fine.

1 comment:

Aliza "La Jewminicana" Hausman said...

You and me are overdue for some writing!