Barefoot with soaked hair, I had long stormed out of my own house and headed to the end of my neighborhood, where Grace had lived. As though I were running track, I tried my best to thoughtlessly run forward at full speed. Thoughtlessly, I said, but they still leaked in. They leaked in like running water to a broken pipe. The thoughts began to hit harder, each one slowly becoming darker than the last.
Did she hate herself because of who she was, because of what we were? Had her parents convinced her that being gay was wrong? What if she had already hurt herself? Had she cut herself? Had I missed a cry for help before this, was I blind to her feelings? What if she already killed herself and I'm too late? How would I react and what would I do? How would I feel and where would my mind be?
Finally meeting their door, I pounded furiously, over and over until the door flew open and revealed her father. "Hold your h-"
I had no time for words or him at all, I needed to see Grace in the flesh. I selfishly needed her alive. I needed her to know that I was there for her. I needed her to know that I needed her. If she had been the fish, then I was the water. If she was the star, then I had been the sky. Grace, standing next to me, shone so much brighter. If I was simply able to be her background, then I would have been just fine with that.
Down the hallway, I had met and opened her door in one swift motion only to find it empty.
Did Grace run away? Grace knew I would have gone with her if that was the case. I would have followed her to the ends of the earth like the stray puppy I was. It didn't matter if it was the streets or in a mansion, it would have been all the same. As though I needed confirmation, I opened her closet to find no large portion of clothes missing, which only said she hadn't left. Hopefully.
If only for a moment, a small bit of the lump in my throat had disappeared. Even if I could breathe a little easier, where was Grace? How far away was she, was she safe? If she hadn't planned on running away or hurting herself, then where had she gone? Suddenly, the phone rang in one of the other rooms and gave a twice and third ring, allowing me to follow it. I was led back into their living room as her father talked on the dark red landline.
His expression had gone from calm to wide-eyed, and that was when the lump in my throat returned with a vengeance. Instead of trouble breathing, it felt like I was being being strangled by a man three times my size, and was followed with an unexpected, heavy weight on my chest. It was as though gravity wanted to rip my heart out of my body, tugging all of who I was away with it.
"Anchor and Boulevard? I'll be there as soon as I can."
If that address had been where she was, Grace had only two blocks away. Once again, the cold decided to prick at me as I flew out of the door before I could even think. I ran just like before, at full speed in the dead of winter as I cut through streets and red lights to speed it all up. Had I wanted to speed up at all? What if I saw something I didn't want to see? What if Grace had gotten hurt in an accident? Would she be okay?
As I sped through an alley, the color of sirens became clearer and clearer, until I met the sight of what felt like dozens of police officers and an equal amount of ambulances. Yet, it hadn't been those that I paid attention to. It wasn't even at the bottom of my mind, not even close. The only thing that was on my mind was the car in front of me. The car with shattered windows and a caved in roof.
The car Grace was on top of.
"Everything will be fine, L." my dad's words had come to mind.
Liar. Fucking liar. Tell me, dad, what part of this was fine? How exactly had this been fine? How was this working out? Where was the value in having faith? All it had done was this. All of those lies had only served for me to see this, the woman I loved on top of a car. How was faith, or belief going to help now? How was everything going to be fine now? All I could do now was dwell on the thoughts of what I could've done.
I cracked like an egg, wide open and empty. The only thought that existed in my mind right then was to see Grace, to hold Grace, as though my touch would bring her back to life. My mind had made it its mission to do just that. With a short step forward, a small jog had turned into a run and then a sprint for Grace. Just as I approached the area, a shout came out and then cop turned just in time to pull me away from her.
That was when I snapped. I screamed and cursed away, kicking and writhing as I tried to free myself from the grip of what was a fully grown man. "Grace!" I continually kicked his knees and tried to hit him as hard as I could with my free hand, even if my shoulder had been locked down. My screaming had soon turned into nonsensical shouts as I seemed to keep going, tirelessly squirming and shouting, but he hadn't let go.
"Let me see her." I somehow managed to rip my other arm out push away from him.
I darted forward again, only to be brought down by two more men and have my hands wrapped behind me as though I was being arrested. What was the point in fighting, to see someone that would only hurt me more, to see someone that I would never see walking or talking again? What was the point in anything I had been doing? I was just wasting energy, right? Touching a body wasn't going to bring it back to life.
No matter how much I loved her, nothing was going to bring her back.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
Opening my eyes to a stifling white wall, I lifted my head and looked around to find myself all alone along a row of chairs. My hair had been dried, I was wearing shoes, and I was covered with a blanket that was just as white as the walls. When had I even fallen asleep? After the crying, during? Either way, there hadn't been much of a difference. I fell asleep in a hospital and that was all there was to it.
I could only help but wonder, was there any chance all of that had been an awful, terrible nightmare? Did I have the right to be delusional and pretend everything was fine? Nothing had happened, and I just had a mental breakdown, which explained why I was at the hospital. Maybe Grace had gotten a hurt, so I was just waiting for her to finish up. I'm sure it was just something small.
I wish.
My body was sore and I had no energy to move. My eyes burnt with fury, punishing me in the same way I had punished them. Could I even sit up if I wanted to? Even then, what was the point? So I could fake a smile and move on with my life? Maybe this was God's will. Maybe he had an answer, a reason why he would take the single most important person in my life. Maybe this had been my punishment for not worshiping his narcissistic ways.
My family wasn't there for me. My dad said that he supported me doing what I wanted, yet he hadn't given a second look to Grace. I begged and begged, for him to do something. All he ever had to do was talk to her father, yet he never had. He was a liar and a hypocrite. He said he was okay with me being the way I was, yet he didn't answer for the girl I grew up with, the girl I fell in love with.
In a few months, I had fallen from Cloud 9 all the way to Hell. I had always gotten along with my dad, but my mom always remained distant. That wasn't how it was any longer. They had both grown distant from me, or was it me who grew distant from them? We had turned into a spiral of constant arguments and disagreements. It was never anything more than a vain game of pretend.
I knew deep down that I was the cause of it. Perhaps it was the anger I had held toward myself for allowing all of it to happen, how so many months had passed and I hadn't done a damn thing for her, or for myself. All I had done was cry myself a river instead of trying to do something, anything for us. I had claimed that I loved her, but what did I have to show for it? Where did the love that I said I had lead? It lead us to depression and death, remorse and guilt, regret and self-hatred. A incessant, labyrinthine loathing of myself.
Grace was so much more than a friend or first love. I had learned so many things with her, from love to just being myself. Our relationship aside, she was ingrained in me, she was part of who I was. Girlfriend or not, she was a huge part of my life and that was one thing would never, ever change between us. Alive or dead, she was a part of me. Grace was the other half of me, the better half of me.
Everything hurt. My head, my heart, and my entire body. It felt like I had been hit by a truck and had my energy siphoned clean out of me. Had I wanted to get up? Did I even want to move? Right at that moment, I was feeling several things in me. Emotions ran high, attacking me over and over, from every last angle. I was swiftly losing a war with myself and my mind, and it became apparent as I slowly began to decay.
I was better off feeling nothing than what I was feeling now. The knife in my back had gone too far and the pain was beginning to spread, yet I was to weak to do anything. In the end, this only served to further evidence just how fragile my own mind had been. I would break as easily as falling glass, yet I pretended to be fine. Rather, I was forced to be fine. I needed to be fine, otherwise I would have been deemed crazy. That something was wrong with me.
At the end of it all, it was clear that I lacked the one thing I thought Grace had so much of, strength.
Perhaps it was because I was young, and I hadn't understood anything, but everything after this night had slowly began to change for me. The mirage I had built around me was now full of hairline cracks, spreading wildly as I desperately tried to hold myself together. The dreamland I constructed was falling apart, leaving me exposed to the truth. A truth that paraded just how much I'd fooled myself. A truth that showed me just how broken I was.
...and just how broken I could be.
ns 172.70.135.71da2
