"you don't have to pull a trigger to be considered a murderer."
i took deep, heavy breaths in and out as my soul filled with a trembling fear and a fiery courage. it was an odd combination. the low hum of the tires churning on the road seemed to whisper to me silently. i was doing the right thing. "are you sure you want to do this?" my mom frantically asked, with a shaky voice. i replied instantly, without a moment of hesitation. "yes."
we pulled up to the old familiar red-brick house that i had once known so well. it screamed at me, "run away while you can." but my emotions took over, and i popped open the car door as i gently placed my feet down on the wet pavement. you can do this, ashley. you have to do this... i clutched onto my mother, begging for strength, as we walked our fragile and bruised souls up to the large intimidating front door. i knocked nervously, barely making a sound with my unsteady fists. we waited for what seemed like an eternity. i knocked again, with more force. the door flung open as i saw one of the people who i knew would always support me, even though she hardly knew me... a warmness filled my soul, and a warm blanketing comfort engulfed me in a warm embrace. this was the right choice. and it would be okay. we stood in the doorway as she welcomed us and put her hand on my shoulder. i choked out the words i had so desperately ached to say for such a long time. "hi. um, can we talk to you for a minute?"
she invited us right in, and sat us down in the piano room that i had once spent so many nights in. instantly, i could feel his faded melodies and his words, pouring into my soul. i remembered all of the memories made in this room, and all of the promises that were now broken. the woman stood beside me and asked me where in the world i had been. and before i knew it, i had begun pouring my soul out to her. i told her of the constant lies that echoed throughout the hallways, and the daggers that had been sent through my heart, for the past six months. as i spoke, her body language said enough. i would speak of the constant torture he put me through, and she would cringe or hold her head, or even just give a look of sadness and despair; she could tell i was already d e s t r o y e d on the inside. as i finished my haunted stories and memories, she began to look as if she was going to cry. she spoke of how she couldn't believe all of this had happened, but was more upset that i didn't tell her sooner. she was not merely upset that i had told her, but because i hadn't told her sooner; i let my soul slowly crumble apart. she spoke for minutes and minutes, and finally flew to the kitchen, begging for my number so she could keep in contact with me. the smell danced around my nose, and suddenly i was back in the summer. the time when i spent most of my days and nights within this very room. the thoughts glided throughout my mind, and stabbed right into my heart. it hurt so much just to walk around this place that held so many memories of me and him. a time when i was happy, and life was beautiful...
i scribbled down my number and she walked me back to the front door with my mom. as we went to embark out into the frosty winter air, she grabbed me in a surprise hug, and i clutched onto her for dear life. oh, i miss you so much. i wanted to burst down the stairs and into his room and beg for him to be my friend. but he wasn't there. and if i were to even lay foot in his room, i would break down crying. we said our goodbyes and the phone nosily rang as we began to walk away. she spoke quickly as she began shutting the door. i heard her distant words, and jotted them all down in my mind.
"hi mom. sorry, i was talking to one of phil's really good friends and---..."
the door closed shut, and my soul began to sob.
if only i really were his really good friend.
i arrived back home and wasn't quite sure if i was happy with my decision or not. it had been taken much too far, though. he had begun telling people i had bipolar disorder, and that is the farthest thing from true... his friends became more aggressive, and the insults became almost unbearable. i was scared just to set foot within the school building. so, i guess what i did was necessary. his mom had always loved me, and i could feel her heartache and support in the air as i spoke from my shattered heart. i had made the right choice.
two or three hours later, my phone lit up with a number that did not look familiar to me, and i quickly ran out of the noisy environment i was currently in. i answered frantically, curious to who it was. his mom's soothing voice calmed me down, and i stopped shaking. she called to get more details on what had happened, and to try to help me in some way. i poured out every little detail to her, and she began trying to blame herself for the start of this terrifying situation. i begged her not to even consider blaming herself. it was not her fault that her son had the maturity of a three year old, if that. as we spoke for exactly an hour and 8 minutes. she mourned with me, and tried to piece my broken heart back together. i could feel her love, pouring through the tiny red cell phone that rested gently in the palm of my hand. this is what i needed. she apologized for all that i had gone through, and said her heart ached knowing how much suffering i had been put through for such a long time. she was well aware of her son's actions of the past few months, and told me she had noticed a hint of harshness in his personality over the past few months. she told me how he used to race home each warm summer night and tell her how happy i made him, and how wonderful i was. tears slowly formed within my eyes, as my heart broke just a little bit more. i wasn't sure how it was possible. she spoke of how wonderful he could be at times, and i agreed completely. i remembered all of the lovely things he had done for me, and all the times he had held me when i needed him more than anyone else. she told me that she thought we should at least try to be friends, and i agreed. and one of the things she said will forever remain engraved in my brain...
"if this boy is smart AT ALL he will turn this around, and be your friend. if he is a complete idiot, he will keep this up. and essentially make one of the worst mistakes he possibly could... "
although i didn't agree with her, i wished that was the reality of everything. we finally finished up, and she told me to keep in touch. she loved me, and she was always there for me. i hung up gently, and prayed for a better tomorrow.
i awoke early the next morning to texts from her, telling me she had talked to him. she said that he was completely unaware of his friends being rude, and would talk to them for me. i ached to reply back and scream to her that he was lying. where do you think they came up with the garbage they spread around? from his pessimistic and hateful mind, of course. but i left it alone, and thanked her so much for everything.
later that day, i received a text from none other than he, himself.
"This is reallying freaking me out big time. Please stop talking to my and myself. I can't control what my friends say. I have gotten over you LONG ago."
everything that still resided in my soul, was knocked out of me instantly, and i couldn't obtain the oxygen necessary to keep my body functioning. my body began to shake heavily, as tears poured down my face. i sauntered off to the bathtub with my ipod in hand, because i didn't know what else to do. i drowned myself in warm water, and stared up at the blank white ceiling of my bathroom, as music shot into my ears with the volume so loud, i could hardly hear the water running. it was one of his favorite songs that we used to listen to daily, and i never would be able to shake the feelings that came over me when i listened to it. i began sobbing harder and harder, until breathing was simply not an option.
when will this EVER end...?