26. Poetry
802 Words
Jamie As I lay in bed alone, I wondered what I could do. Bree was right; Chayton could hand her over or refuse to help us if he didn’t get what he wanted. A lot of bad possibilities could happen. And I was convinced that he had hidden motives. Hidden is never good.
And yet I hide so much… Everyone hides so much, only showing the best in themselves, when in reality our faults are worse than anger and anxiety problems. Sometimes we’re murderers, sometimes we’re suicidal, sometimes we want to be in prison. But everyone hides the ugliest parts of themselves, even from people they trust.
I rolled over, looking into the mirror. I looked like old me. Like not-killer me. Could I ever be him again? Was he dead now, dead with my brother?
I got up and paced around the room. I considered turning wolf, like I used to. Pacing as a wolf was always more calming… But I couldn’t. Not anymore. I couldn’t be wolf unless I needed to. Otherwise, they might hear me… Or I might hear them.
How can I get us out of here? How can I keep her safe?
I silently left my room, to check on Bree. She wasn’t in her room, and I told myself not to be worried, but that was hard. Why would she have gone anywhere else? What if it wasn’t her choice to go somewhere else?
I walked around the house, searching to find her… I checked all but one room, and only because the door was locked. In front of that door, I stood for a long time. My ear pressed up against it, and sometimes I thought I could hear faint whispers from inside the room… But I couldn’t tell if I was making it up. What if I was just hearing what I was trying to hear, but it wasn’t there?
Finally, I went back to my room. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t stop thinking. After another search of the house, I sat on my bed and tried to silence my thoughts.
An hour went by, and I got nowhere. If anything, my mind was more anxious than it was before. As I paced around the room again, a piece of paper caught my eye. Just sitting on the dresser, blank.
I looked at it thoughtfully. Blank. I wish my mind was that blank… A thought struck me; what if I filled the paper with everything in my mind? What if making the paper messy would make my mind clear?
I shifted through the dresser until I found a pen, then stared at the paper. I wrote a single line, then stopped, remembering… Back before I was in Sanguis I used to write poetry, but never showed anyone even though it was pretty good. I only wanted to say the things I couldn’t say, and I enjoyed it, but stopped after I was worried someone might find the papers.
I put the pen back on the paper and got lost in the words, just feeling them leave me and stick to the paper. No longer blank, now covered in letters scribbled in shaky ink. When there was no more room, I looked back at what I’d written.
Lost from the world, broken away,
Unseen, never thought about,
Nobody asking me to stay,
Nobody hearing me cry or shout.
Lost to the world that never knew me,
Lost to myself, to those I love,
Nothing makes me happy to just simply be,
Can't imagine I could shine and rise above.
If I were to be gone, would anyone even know?
If I ran away, would anyone miss me?
The answer’s no, I'm just lost, I've lost my glow,
How to be truly happy is something I don't see.
Lost to the one that I love, who might have loved me,
No longer talking, breaking me apart,
Nobody sees it the way I see,
I think I've been lost from the start...
Lost, alone, sad and broken,
Watching all the happiness that i can only see,
Hurt both by what's said and left unspoken,
What's left for me?
I read. And read again. And tore the paper into the tiniest shreds I could before throwing it away. Those thoughts were gone, I told myself, every thought of sadness that they hadn’t come for me and that being lost was bad and that Bree might be gone, all of them were gone.
I got onto my bed again, and after a moment of worry about where Bree was, I fell asleep.
- Writer
