She Was Everything -Part 4-
When I awaken, I am in my classroom
The math professor is in the middle of a lecture
Then . . . there she is
The girl I killed
The girl I fear
Sitting at her desk taking notes
What is this?
Why am I here?
Why has my cruel mind formulated this gut-wrenching lie?
Why do I fear myself?
My hands shake uncontrollably
As I stare at the blank page before me
Looking up once or twice at her curly, golden hair
I think to myself
Why did I just get the urge to kill someone
When I have never killed anyone in my life?
And why her?
The answer is as clear as day:
She was everything
But why then would I want her gone?
—because she was NEVER THERE
No matter how close
She was never there . . .
But she was rightfully mine!
And if I couldn’t have her
No one would . . .
I snap out of it by the sound of her soft voice
Calling my name
We are the only two in the room now
She is not facing me
Her back turned as always
She invites me to her house
Her birthday party
I swallow hard
Is she kidding me?
After ignoring me for all these years
She’s inviting me to her party?
My mind wants to scream
But I answer in one word:
Sure.
Then, the next thing she does sends shivers down my spine
Still not facing me
She opens up her hand mirror
—the one with the little black heart
Her eyeball in the glass
Staring me down
That mocking look of pity
Shattering my sanity
She looks at me and says,
“Don’t keep me waiting . . .”
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2012
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