XLIX | Something Unreasonable
❦
If sins could be forgiven,
no one will get hurt.
Although
I can’t
remember
exactly how I lost my little finger,
I know
I committed a serious sin—
maybe even a crime.
Why else
were the police involved?
And IMH?
Why else
would my loving parents
look at me
with such fear?
Why did they
send me there?
Why does everyone
leave me behind?
Why am I
worthless,
useless
to everyone?
If Tammie could forgive sins,
I’m 100% sure
she’ll never forgive me.
I don’t know
why I think she could
—I don’t remember her.
But even someone
who loves me
the way Tammie
does
will never forgive me
for what I’ve done.
All I did
was give my little finger
in exchange for a life.
Tell me,
Tammie,
if the one I killed was you,
what more will you
ask from me?
❦
I hear footsteps
behind me.
I know who it is.
That person
doesn’t speak.
Just stands
behind the greenhouse bench I’m sitting on
and breathes.
Asher, I guess.
There’s a sigh.
How did you know?
I heard the door
of the greenhouse open.
I didn’t smell
the vomit Tammie brings with her.
Instead
of saying
that,
I point to Krishna digging holes
below the rowan trees
to bury her orange pips.
‘She told me.’
Identity revealed,
he still doesn’t
sit down next to me.
Does he know
I’m disappointed
it’s not Tammie?
Does he know
he isn’t anything
like her?
None of us speak.
Today,
even Krishna is quiet.
(Although occasionally,
she’ll look at me
and smile knowingly.)
The regulated air
that rhythmically
circles the glass hall
makes the rowan leaves
sing the same song
over and
over again.
Like a lullaby.
Only it sounds
(too much)
like Moonlight Sonata.
Impossible.
Asher speaks
when the sun begins
to fade
from the clouded sky.
You look like her.
Krishna,
who’s now picking weeds from her chessboard flowers,
uses her hands instead of her spade.
The one who ripped off my ear.
Why are you
the one here then?
I ask, not curious at all.
I feel him smile,
a laughter that fizzles out
and dies inside.
I killed her, of course.
The air
turns to ice.
If that can be forgiven
on account of my ear,
I won’t be here.
It becomes hard to breathe.
Sometimes
I think it hasn’t happened yet.
That she still owes me
an answer.
I turn
to face him.
I need to see his face.
The face
I’d be making
if I remember my own sins.
Sometimes,
I still think it’s her fault
that I’m here.
That she’s the one
who ruined my life.
His face
looks
exactly
the same
as it did
when he looked at me previously.
I get so angry
I want to kill you all over again.
He laughs
and it’s colder
than the ice
in the air.
I deserve to be here.
because I do it—
kill you again.
Over and over again.
❦
Is he expecting me
to empathise?
To understand?
I can’t tell
from the expressionless expression
he’s making.
I can’t empathise—
I hope my lack of expression
conveys that.
I can’t understand—
I hope my unblinking eyes
tell him that.
He looks away first
from a staring contest
I didn’t know we’re playing.
You win,
he whispers.
And he leaves.
It’s only
after
the door clicks shut
behind him
that Krishna begins to laugh,
throwing weeds everywhere,
kicking her legs in the air
like a little child.
I get up
to leave too.
Krishna
is freaking me out
again.
I touch
the cold door handle
and hear Krishna call out,
Girl,
you really don’t understand anything.
❦
