XXX | Someone Who Cared
❦
The darkness
is like oil
on the surface
of water.
Trying to break through
the skin
of the liquid
just makes it
stick to my skin
like shrinking PVC wrap.
When I open my mouth
to speak,
thick oil
moulds to the shape
of my mouth
and trickles down my throat.
I cough and cough,
gulping,
swallowing
the darkness
until
I’m full of it.
The rancid stench of rotting meat
fills my olfactory senses
and I see
through the darkness
dripping through my lashes
an apologetic
smile.
A cold thin hand
presses hard
on my forehead.
No! I’ll fall! I’ll drown! Stop!
Fifi, you’re so dramatic.
Wake up already.
I blink
but the darkness
doesn’t go away.
The curtainless window
remains dark.
Night.
It’s still night.
‘Tammie,’ I whisper.
They’ve removed all the restraints.
I’m free.
Covered
by the blanket
I fought
so hard to keep.
It’s nothing special.
Plain,
white,
ragged.
The nurses are lit up
by their phones,
watching me sit up slowly
from their seats by the wall.
Tammie sits on the bed beside me,
swinging her legs
in a comforting rhythm.
Fifi,
do you remember
the times
after school
when I followed you
taking buses
that didn’t get us home?
I rub the blanket
between my fingers.
Wrapping them
tight
hoping
they’ll cut off my blood
and I’ll die.
Memories once
lost
don’t return.
I had lots of tuition classes.
My parents
signed me up
for all those (stupid)
enrichment classes.
She’s grinning
like a baby.
I didn’t go.
I accompanied you because I thought
it’d be fun.
There are stains
on my blanket.
I squint at them
in the dark.
My fingers
are caked
with the same stains too.
I press one fingertip.
It stings.
Dried blood.
I’ll find the scars
later,
when there’s light.
I was so baffled.
You don’t pay attention in class,
and you take a different bus
after school
every time.
When I asked you
where you’re going
you never replied.
I’ve been following you
since then.
‘I’m sorry I don’t remember.’
I can’t tell
if she’s making this up.
Tammie’s grey eyes
are a little sad.
Even back then
I don’t think you realised
I cared about you.
but I did.
I was watching over you.
I just wanted
to be friends.
‘Where did we go?
‘Riding that bus?’
I ask.
It didn’t just happen once, Fifi!
You did it a lot.
Random buses each time.
You’d take them
all the way
to the end
and ask me why you’re not home yet.
I bury my head in my blanket.
That’s so
lame.
So I was a mess
back then.
I can feel
Tammie’s hand
on my back.
Yeah, you were.
Still are.
You’re an idiot.
I had to take you home.
The me
that Tammie was talking about,
hasn’t
become
a
better
person.
Your parents freaked out
the first time
it happened.
And subsequently,
they tried to pay me
for my trouble.
I fake a laugh
but Tammie
probably doesn’t hear
because it’s muffled
by the blanket
I’ve stuffed into my face.
The bed stops shaking.
Tammie’s
stopped swinging
her legs.
Your parents
love you a lot.
They’re so different
from mine.
She pats me on the back.
I sit up.
The blanket falls
off my face.
I’m staring
straight into her
deep
grey
eyes.
My fingers throb.
(I can feel the pain now.)
I’ll be with you
this time, Fifi.
❦
