Tell me which side I’m on. These words echoed from ear to ear in a time that dripped destruction
and gravely lacked sobriety. We were lost astray in a world that we had claimed
was our kingdom; drowning in a pond we believed was our ocean. We would walk
the streets, despising outsiders. These streets were ours and we enforced this
knowledge. We would come alive in the heat of the day, angered by the world,
infuriated by our foes and sickened by our situations. He who was greatly
neglected by all who should’ve cared, he who was utterly abused by whoever
could get close enough, she who grew in the shadow of her drug-thirsty brother
and uninterested father, and she who faced darkness in the hateful eyes of an
unknown man. We all had our stories, but that had no matter. This kingdom was a
sanctuary, which held no room for judgment. When faced with each other, we
became each other, one in the same.
Although we held different pains, we were
each faced with a common, unrelenting burden that we shared. Approaching
constant failure. We had
come together in a bond as each of us gave up on hope, forgot true happiness
and wanted nothing, absolutely nothing, but freedom. We had spent endless
nights searching for this freedom, hoping we would find it in the smoke from
our lungs, maybe in the breathless sky or the alcohol that stirred our souls. Slipping
smoothly into an easier state, we would set fires, scream until our throats
bled, and swayed to the lyrics of The
Chosen Pessimist by the band In Flames.
We skipped, we danced, we
flew. The skin of our knuckles would split against what ever object had the
unfortunate role of surrogate. This was not a terrible time. It was in fact
wonderful – perhaps not for our wellbeing – but for our souls. We found hearts
in a seemingly heartless world. We sensed justice in an unjust world and we did
it together. I fell in love for the first time and finally, I found a place
that I truly belonged. It wasn’t perfect, but it was ours. Something we truly
believed could never be taken away from us. And how wrong we were.
We were ruthlessly torn apart
by our situations and the ways of the universe. The ringleader was the first to
go, his mother finally deciding to leave the abuse behind them. Soon after, my
love left to Pretoria after unfairly being accused of drug use. For a while, it
was just my brother and I. Together, we stayed strong, spoke of our troubles
and advised one another. It wasn’t long before he, too, had to leave. He was
shipped off to boarding school because my parents could not take a second to
realize that his behavior was due to a painful lack of love. And there is me. I
was left to wander through the memory filled streets, lost in my empty heart
and lonely to the point of despair. Trying to fight the feeling of abandonment,
trying to remain in their memory. Carve my name in stone. May I never be forgotten.
Points: 13625
Reviews: 82
Donate