deepundergroundpoetry.com
Free Part 1
-Storytelling from Afterlife story (one where we’re doing here).
Ch 0: Pre-life
My world started in complete darkness. I smiled here before I even knew what smiling was. I looked at my whole world in awe and wonder despite its lack of color.
I’d love to believe everyone will experience or have experienced what I did before they were brought into the world. But sadly, not all will. Not all even have a pre-life. Plenty are too attached to the physical world of Earth.
I, however, was not.
Here, my spirit was beaming. Here, I knew who I was, although I didn’t have a name or words to assign anything meaning.
Here, I was safe. Here, I was okay with being in the dark. But still, curiosity led me to float around this place. Floating up, I felt like I was swimming towards this brink of light. I was having fun, going on a new and exciting adventure.
When my darkness met this light, I ended up in a field filled with grass a little taller than a mowed lawn. A place of natural beauty. There were flowers all around. This place was full of vibrancy and color. I now knew a light that began to become precious to me. Looking down at the grass, I noticed my dark, ghostly form. All I was at that time was a black, shapeless ghost. I looked like what a kid would look like under a sheet with cut out circles for eyes and mouth.
There was no sun in the sky. Only a natural light that brightened the sacred place.
As I took in this new environment and floated forward, I saw a wooden swing and got on it. This was before I noticed another ghost on the other wooden swing. The ropes attached to the wooden swings went all the way up to the sky.
Unlike me, this ghost was white with the exception of his mouth and eyes. Black like my entire form. We both looked at each other and giggled. We had no words or formations of thought processes. But already from that moment, we loved each other.
He took my hand, and we flew off the swings, having a bird eye view of the ground. He sped up and dragged me along, spinning us upside down and around in circles. In real life, I’d find this to be horrible. But here, I could care less. Here, I could be free.
But one day, after spending countless days and nights stargazing, flying around, and exploring, we had to decide if we wanted to exist in the world of risk (Earth) or to disappear forever. Disappearing forever would force our mothers to have miscarriages. We would never be known.
With our last moment here, we looked at each other on the swing and made a silent decision to go to Earth. We had seen what our lives would entail and the harshness of it. It didn’t matter to us.
All that mattered was that we would soon meet again.
In the human flesh.
Ch 31:
It was the day after high-school graduation. I woke up in the same purple room that I have had all my life. But this time, it felt like I had just woken from eternal darkness.
I reached for my phone on my nightstand next to me immediately. And I go to my messages to see if Darryl has said anything to me. But it seems as though they have all been erased. That's weird… I go to compose a message, and as I type out the name of the recipient, Darryl's name doesn't pop up. Even weirder…
I go to my contacts, and they're all gone. Except for one named Richard.
I don't understand this… How can they all be gone? How could this be?
If it all else fails, I could at least text Darryl. I know his number by heart.
Me: Hey.
Text message blocking activated.
He blocked me…? Why…?
My world crashes around me. Like the sun hitting the Earth, killing me. My life forever ending.
How could he block me? We've known each other since we were 3. He got on one knee and proposed to me the night before graduation. We were going to start our lives together.
This can't be.
I sat there in a trance. Like someone had hit me with a tranquilizer. I stay there in bed, not being able to move.
On my nightstand, I see the spinning picture frame. It now lacks the picture with Darryl and I. Both of us were smiling at the park in our neighborhood. We were on the swings, having so much fun alone. Having so much fun. I’m reliving that moment in my mind to cope.
We had been swinging there, higher and higher into the sky. Higher and higher into Maslow’s pyramid of hierarchy. Into self-actualization. Into the stratosphere. Higher and higher flying.
He jumped off as he always does. I stayed. I stayed on the swing and stopped it entirely before getting off. He would always tease me, and this time was no different.
“Come on, Diana. You know you want to. You know you do.” He grabbed the chains of the swing and shook them, taunting me. “Please?” He now cocks his head, facing me directly. He gives me that pouty face. That face of doom. “Please!” He shakes the chains like it’s monkey bars and he can’t get out of his cage.
By this point, I laugh and laugh. He’s clearly trying to amuse me at this point. And I can’t help but laugh until my stomach hurts. Laugh until I truly can’t anymore. Like a madman, he just keeps saying “Please.”
I missed this moment. I missed this time. Time of freedom and silly fun. Time of camaraderie and silly banter. Time of everything yet nothing at all. Just us having too much of a blast to the moon.
How could he throw that all away? How could he do this?
“You know all he wants is sex. He'll never marry you. He doesn't even like you. Boys are all users, Diana.”
Hearing my father's voice in my head, I snap out of the trance I'm in. My first reaction is to fly down the stairs and seek the outdoors. I need a breath of fresh air. When I get to the front door though, it’s locked. I keep pulling on the door, and it doesn’t budge. I keep pulling, and I can’t get out. I can’t try anymore, although I really want to. Maybe the back door.
I’m walking towards it slowly but suddenly. Cautious yet alert. Painstaking yet sloppy. I’m walking in between the crunched space of the red recliner couch and the wall. I don’t take up space in between, yet I feel like a waste of that.
I’m so inside my own head that I don’t notice my father sitting on the edge. I jumped at his voice. At him talking at all, saying, “It’s about time to wake up, sleepyhead. I never thought you’d even get up.”
“Oh.” All I could say, all I could breathe in. All I really could state. I’m without words. Without complete sentences.
“Want some pancakes? I made some for ya,” he says, getting up. And as he gets up, getting closer to me, I freeze. I feel like a frozen snow cone someone’s about to lick and consume all for themselves. I want to throw up but can’t. Something is stuck in my throat, and I don’t wanna know what it is.
He's talking to me now, and I don’t know what he is saying. It feels as though he is breathing down my neck, although he literally isn't. Moments are ticking, time is moving, and I can't. Until I jump and finally understand his words.
“Gotta get by, Diana. I gotta get the pancakes, sweetie.”
I want to roll my eyes, but I don’t. I simply move out of his way ever so slightly. I watch him and can't stop. Seeing his butt move and jiggle as he walked make me close my eyes a split second and then watch again, so fixated and upset by my own fixation. I feel overwhelmed as a snake and him as the bunny. I feel like my thoughts alone are eating him alive.
As he's coming back with the food, my eyes dart to his zipper in fear, but I don’t make it obvious. My perversion. My horribleness. My fault.
Before I know it, I'm strapped in, sitting in a chair, looking at food that has strawberry juice that I first perceive as blood. I'm scared even more so.
Darryl… I call out in my mind. DARRYL! I cry out in agony.
Remember, he doesn't love you anymore.
He doesn't love you anymore.
He doesn't love you anymore.
I know I have to move on.
Taking even a couple bites of these pancakes, I'm already feeling sick as hell. Sick to the point of going to the half bath to puke. It was a relief, but also a burden. A burden to bear for the rest of my days.
I have to move on from him, but I never will.
When I come back to the table, my father says, “You probably should lie down.”
“Okay,” I say, not thinking anything of it until later. I still wonder why the door is locked from the outside. I don't check it to see. I go upstairs merely as suggested.
Feeling incredibly weak, I plop on the bed and don't have much trouble passing out. But sadly, I don't get much rest.
I'm on the stairs again, and seeing my own shadow scares me into oblivion. And I'm falling into my own death. Falling into my own way to Hell. I see my dad's zipper opening wider and wider, and I'm falling into the abyss. Deeper and deeper. I cry out and scream as loud as I can. But no one hears me.
It felt as though it went on forever until I jolted into the awakened world. And I realized that this was a dream. A very horrifying symbol of my reality I did not yet understand. Unlike those you see in movies, I never made panting noises waking up. Actually, it felt as if I had just woken from a deep coma. An emotionless journey from asleep to awake.
I woke up to just that- a room full of darkness. The abyss.
Scared by the dark, I immediately turned my light on. Something didn't feel right. I felt this sense of fear creep upon me still. Something didn't feel right with my body. I felt up my shirt that my nipples had remnants of saliva. My vagina as well. My vagina felt incredibly sore.
How could I have been this tired for so long? And why does my body felt drenched in sweat and saliva?
I was shaking away painful thoughts and memories. I couldn't. I couldn’t think about it…
I reached for my phone and felt the urge to look at the only contact I have in my phone now: Richard. I put my phone down and bawled. Tears crept down my face. I put a hand over my mouth to keep me from making noise.
Stop crying, bitch!
I told myself that, and I couldn't stop thinking it was my fault. My fault for my own problems. My fault for Darryl not liking me. My fault for not being a better individual. My fault, my fault for everything bad that ever happened. It was my fault, and it would never stop being my fault.
I was crying, but got too numb to let out a single tear left. I was like Barbie; I always had to smile. Always had to be the pretty, nice girl who had zero problems. I didn't deserve to cry or complain. Rather, I deserved to live in a contorted exterior in which everyone spat upon. And I had to accept that I didn’t deserve compassion or sympathy. I was the cute, skinny girl who never had anything intelligent or great to add. I was replaceable and erasable. Forever and ever, a message unetched into the sea.
I drop the hand against my mouth to my side, and I sat there, again looking at the contact.
Darry could never love me.
My mom told me at 16 years old in a parking lot near Safeway driving school that she had me by accident. And while I didn't react the traditional way a child would be by getting super angry and upset, I did accept it. I was a mistake, and the longer I kept lying to myself, the worse it would get.
I didn't blame her for telling me the “bad” news. It wasn't her fault. It was my own.
I had nothing to offer. Nothing to offer this world. Nothing at all. Might as well end it, but I was too scared to die.
Coward.
Then, I wondered about Darryl. I wondered what he was up to.
Failure.
I couldn’t help using a worthy distraction to get those thoughts away: video games. Already had my Donkey Kong Country 2 game ready to go, one of the first video games I ever grew up with. I was excited to get away for a while, to relish in something else that had nothing to do with my problems. But something happened. Something weird.
The door that was open shut. Both doors now were locking from the outside, and I was bracing myself in absolute terror. Picturing already the worst outcome. The worst is yet to come. I just know it. I went up to try to open the door I just came out of. No use.
I turned around and my hair stood up. I felt paralyzed. I hesitantly walked towards the TV, sitting down on the bed, watching the screen. Instead of seeing the title screen like usual, I see Darryl and I walking in one of the lava levels, getting to the edge of a cliff. A shadowy Klobber makes that screeching noise I absolutely hate and comes after us, pushing us both into the lava. He sacrifices himself. We all fall in. Bubbling noises go off. There's no death music that plays. Only silence and nothing more.
I watched the screen in complete shock. Too scared to utter a single sound. The instant I heard the doors unlocked, I flew out of there. I ran downstairs. And I tried the front door again. It was still locked. I tried the back door; it was locked too. I couldn’t get out of here.
As soon as I was about to give up, I heard a window behind me open. The nearest window in the dining room had opened, leading to my escape. “Hurry before it’s too late,” a voice stated…by a frog? It was hopping in here. “Ribbit.”
I disregarded what I saw and hurried out of there. I made sure to shut the window quietly before moving on to the car my parents had put in my name. A white suburbia. Not that I care anything about cars. Of course, I forgot about my car keys, but before I could go back, I was met with the biggest black and blue spider in front of my eyes. My eyes widened with fear; my whole body froze up. That thing had its legs wrapped around my car keys. I carefully took them without touching the spider and ran around to the car. Getting the car on, I rushed to get out of the driveway and heard a splat. I assumed it was the spider, but I tried my best to get that image out of my mind.
I honestly didn’t know where I was headed. Probably nowhere. Nowhere at all. I took a right out of my street because it seemed brighter than the other one. I had the radio on to distract myself from the intense amount of fear I felt. A catchy song I never heard before kept playing over and over no matter the radio station I would turn it to. 104.1 KRBE was always my favorite, but I loved others as well. I lived in The Woodlands, TX- a very beautiful city with loads of trees.
If there was anything I loved, it was driving. Feeling like I'm floating, yet I was not. Feeling a sense of control over where I was headed. I found it odd that the radio kept playing the same song, but either way, I felt free for a moment that seemed to be fleeting. But for me, it felt like an eternity until reality would take hold of my life again. I was forever swimming in a glorious sea, cleansing my soul, restoring myself like in the Fairy Fountain in Zelda. I was in my own little world for the time being, away from everything everyone else wanted me to be.
Right now, as I was thinking of Darryl, I didn’t feel worried as much. About the fact that he blocked me. I got to be in my own alternative universe where things were once perfect. Where things were once magical. I remembered the first time we had met now when before I didn’t have that far back of a memory. Only recounts of what his mother would say.
I remembered the first time I saw him. That was back when I could walk. I was around 3 years old. He was too. I saw him out there riding one of those red bicycles with train wheels. I stared at him for a while. My mom was outside watching me. Darryl waved to me; I waved back.
“Hi,” he said loud and clear.
“Hi,” I said quietly and hesitantly.
It took a while until he was done riding. I stood there, staring. He ran over to me and smiled. And although we didn’t have proper words back then, we already liked each other. We had a bond that I never shared with anyone else. I was lucky to find it so young and at such a pure time of innocence. I can’t help but be grateful.
My mom, of course, told me to be careful of cars when crossing the street to his house, but I by default was cautious of everything. I begged her to allow me to come to his house that day, and as always, my mom let me do so.
I remembered his mother and her heartwarming smile. So welcoming. Strangely, as I grew up, I ended up looking quite similar to her- chocolate brown hair, brown eyes, and skinny figure. Except her skin complexion was a bit lighter and her hair was a bit darker. Her name was similar too- Diane. Mine was Diana. That day, I felt safe and at home. Darryl and I ended up spending the whole day together, indulging in cartoons, cars and action figures, rainbow colored blocks, and sugary delights (me more than him though. His family cared more about having actual meals). It was the perfect day, the beginning of something new. Embracing a friendship that would last a lifetime.
I drove out of the neighborhood quickly because the other paths had no lights. I ended up on the freeway, going down I-45. With no direction of where I’m going. I’m driving, and that’s it. Not being forced to drive slow, but not trying to drive fast either. A perfect balance. The music plays and plays. No commercials.
I see another car on the road that’s going faster than me. It looked like Darryl’s black car. I couldn’t keep up with it. It was whizzing forward, up in the distance, farther and farther away. Until it was out of sight, out of mind. I never saw it again that night.
Seeing that car comforted me enough to go back home. The song on the radio finally changed to something else, something more upbeat and peaceful. I also had never heard it before, but it made me happy. It calmed me and soothed my soul. Made me think everything would be okay even if it felt awful and downtrodden. I went in the same window I came out of and went upstairs to my bed to lie down. Nothing bothered me at this moment nor worried me. I smiled in the darkness before shutting my eyes.
And before I knew it, it was the next day. I woke up to light filtering in through the blinds. I woke up to these purple walls again. And I noticed writing on my mirror in what appeared to be red lipstick. I had to get closer to it to properly read it.
I still love you.
Could it be a message from Darryl? No, stop it. It probably isn’t… Maybe I wrote it? I don’t know…
“Diana?” my dad called from downstairs.
“Yes?” I answer, hoping it’s loud enough for him to hear. I look in the mirror again, and the writing is gone.
Certainly, I didn’t just imagine this…
I go outside my room so that I can hear my father.
“I just thought you and I could spend a little time together. You know, go for a drive or something.”
My father and I did this on the weekends. Today was Sunday after all.
“Okay, sure,” I said.
I went downstairs where he was, waiting, staring at me. With no real expression on his old yet non-wrinkled face. He opened the front door with ease and shut it and locked it.
Wait, how on Earth could he get it open and I couldn’t? Certainly, I wasn’t doing something right.
We went out to his black truck, the only other car we had. And we drove around here. We passed by Darryl’s house as we got out of the driveway, and I got that same pang in my heart. Reality kicked me hard and woke me up to the fact that he still doesn’t love me. If he didn’t love me, then who would? I guess there was always my parents. Sigh.
My dad had a very stoic face while driving. I only caught a glimpse of it before he looked back, and I looked away.
I still wondered if that was Darryl’s car I saw last night. I wondered if it was him, where he was going. I knew he’d sometimes drive late at night, but I never asked him where. Didn’t want to seem too pushy.
I wondered if he was thinking of me. I wanted to think I was still the only one he’d want to commit to. The last night I saw him was the night he proposed. The night before the graduation ceremony. This had to be a mistake… Did he really change his mind that soon? Had to wonder.
“Diana?” This had been the second time my father had to repeatedly call my name. Jeez, I was this out of it.
“Yes?” I said calmly despite feeling like a wreck on the inside.
“I was just wondering if you wanted something to eat.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, feeling sad, not knowing what to say.
“Wanna go to IHop?” he asked.
“Sure,” I said. “Sure.”
With my parents, there always had to be a destination in mind. But with Darryl, there never had to be. Speaking of parents…
“Where’s mom?” I asked.
“Oh, you know, at her tennis club.”
That was reasonable actually. It was a Sunday after all, and my mom did go there.
I shrugged. “Okay.”
There wasn’t much for me to really say, but my father kept talking regardless.
“So, are you glad high school’s over?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” I said.
You don’t have to work, Diana. Just rely on me. I’ll take care of you.
I remember my father saying that in the past when I turned 18. I had told him my concerns about finding a job and how hard it would be.
I feel stiff.
“Is Mom still gonna make you major in accounting?” he asked.
“Yeah. I don't want to though.”
“Then, you shouldn't have to, Diana. You should do what you want to do. After all, you're really talented in the arts.”
“Yeah I know,” I said something, anything for the sake of it. Just so I didn't blank out again.
I felt numb again like I had before senior year ended. Like I was having an out of body experience. I didn't feel real. I wished Darryl would speak to me. All I kept thinking.
“You should go for it, Diana. I believe in you.”
We looked at each other for a second. He was grinning; I could barely smile.
“Thanks.” That was all I could muster.
By this point, we were on the feeder road, turning around to go south. It took a ways before we'd finally make it there. My dad was going on and on about his own college experiences. I'd nod and listen for most of it. My dad majored in Business; I already knew that since he turned out to be a successful manager at Walmart. But he was mentioning his social experiences mostly, with girls. I didn't really have much to say to it. I just let him talk, and that was that.
When we made it to IHop, my father effortlessly talked to the host in a way I could never confidently do. Always stuttered and screwed up and made everything awkward. Talking for him, however, came easily. That was why I had a sinking feeling the day of graduation. The thought of being in the real world made my heart crumble. Like a magical castle I dreamed about once, it all came crashing down.
We made our way to a booth and sat. I already knew what I was going to get- French toast. It was my favorite thing to eat. My mom would often make it for me to devour within minutes. My dad wouldn't as much. In fact, I found it odd for him to cook for me yesterday. He rarely ever does that. After all, he was the breadwinner; my mom would stay home with me.
I still wondered about Darryl and what he was doing. I couldn’t help looking at my orange juice I ordered and would sip only a little at a time. I was so focused on my thoughts. I looked at my phone and saw that all my messages were back to normal. It showed my mom and dad’s messages to me about graduation. But still. It didn’t show that I had messaged Darryl at all. It also didn’t show Darryl in my contacts. It still didn’t. None of this made any sense.
I shook my head and rolled my eyes. My dad asked, “Are you okay?”
‘Yeah,” I said right away. But I wasn’t. Darryl wasn’t talking to me. The one person outside of my family who I could trust more than anything. How could I be okay with that? There was no way. No way in h-e-l-l I could throw away everything I had with him and pretend he was nothing to me.
“You know all he wants is sex. He'll never marry you. He doesn't even like you. Boys are all users, Diana.”
My dad’s voice in my head got to me. I couldn’t help but say something.
“Dad, do you think Darryl is gonna talk to me? I mean, it shows that he blocked me yesterday, but I just wonder what’s been going on.”
My dad smiled knowingly at me. “I think you answered your own question, Diana. I wouldn’t worry about what a boy your age does. They’re all the same anyway.”
But I was worried, and I couldn’t stop. How could he do this to me? Has he already moved on, and I didn’t know? How could he move on? How could he? How could he…?
Questions spiraled out of control even as we made our way back home. I felt like I was on one of those rides that spinned me around and around to the point where I’d get sick. And I was. I was sick.
I still love you.
I still didn’t believe that. I didn’t believe what that message said in the mirror. It couldn’t be, could it?
But there was a little piece of me inside of a large puzzle of non-beliefs that did believe.
I was looking into that mirror, smiling, almost giggling all over again. I touched that mirror and said the unforgettable. The words that reflected back like the mirror did my warmth and happiness.
“I love you too.”
Ch 30
It was another day of being enclosed by these purple walls, trying to figure out what to do with myself. I found myself walking to the guest room, about to open the door. Then, remembering what happened last time. I wanted to see the pictures inside the dresser there, but what if it was a trap? What if it was…?
I stepped back and looked into the mirror in the room I was in. I looked in my mirror a lot since I was a kid. I was always curious about how my body looked. But I didn’t see me. Instead, I saw Darryl. I didn’t gasp, but I had my mouth ajar as I stared into his eyes. Stared into his soul. He said nothing, and I said nothing. Yet I felt we were saying something without words. I wanted to see all the pictures resembling our memories together.
I remembered the first time he asked me out. In intermediate school, he had signed my yearbook and wrote, “Do you wanna be my secret girlfriend?”
The front door downstairs shutting snapped me out of my trance. My well-furnished trance. I assumed it was my mom since she was calling my name pretty loud. Darryl in the mirror vanished. I must have been seeing things.
“What?” I said angrily, although I wasn’t trying to seem angry. “What?” I said a second time and a third.
We could finally hear each other as I reached the halfway mark down the stairs. She was in the foyer, looking up at me.
This happened all too often. Her screaming from the bottom of the stairs and me having to see what she wanted.
“Can you help me?” This was a question she asked a lot, and she was asking it now. “Can you help me bring the groceries in?”
“Right now?” I asked, seeing if I could put it off and be left alone. But clearly, I couldn’t be.
“Yes. Please help me.”
I rolled my eyes and said, “Ugh.”
When I made it to the white Suburbia outside, there was an overwhelming amount of groceries filling the car seats and the floor as well. I was already muttering under my breath, already feeling frustrated. Already feeling overwhelmed and pissed off. I knew I shouldn’t be, and I felt bad, but I couldn’t stop it. I rushed, getting as many as four or five groceries in my hand at a time. I zoomed in and out, doing anything to make this go by faster. That was one thing I hated more than anything- too many groceries in our car. Because my tired brain would go, “Oh…great.” It happened more often than not though. After all, we had the money to get too many.
As I was getting more groceries from the car, I suddenly remembered things flashing before my eyes. My mother calling me stupid. She did this quite a bit for any mistake I made. One time, I lost an old flip phone when I was 13. And my mom instantly got frustrated with me, saying that one word I hated more than anything- stupid. I always thought I was dumb because when I went to the lost and found lady at school, I couldn’t describe the phone at all. So, she couldn’t help me. And I felt helpless. I did feel more than stupid. I felt like the lowest being on this earth.
And I still did now. I could never explain things properly. I always got things wrong, and my mom would get furious with me. Never felt I did anything right. That I was never going to go anywhere in life. That I would stay stuck. Forever.
I was getting more groceries inside the house on the counters and on the table, hurrying to put them up, feeling more and more irritated. My mom was nitpicking me about everything right now. Put the milk and juices on this side in the fridge, put the butter and fruit on the top shelf, put pop tarts in the pantry on this shelf and not that one, etc. I didn’t feel like arguing with her, but I did feel a wind of exhaustion on my part. I felt exhausted whether I argued or not. I wanted to get this over with and move on with my day. It took a while before this ended, and by the time it did, I felt like lying down upstairs and closing my eyes.
Soon, I was at the top of the stairs again. The light near the attic flickered. The light going on and off made my heart beat faster. I could feel it and hear it. This time, the stairs disappeared into darkness, and Darryl was clinging onto the edge of the top stair with his hands. But he was slipping, and he couldn't hold on for long. Something prevented me from moving to help him. He kept begging me to help him. My body couldn't move. But my mind raced to the finish line to claim my prize.
He looked at me one last time before he fell into the abyss below. The light stayed off now. And I kept hearing in eternal darkness “It's your fault. It's your fault. It's your fault.”
“It's your fault…”
I woke up normally as if I hadn't had a crazy nightmare. And I was in fact in complete darkness. Immediately, I turned on the light with the fan switch. I couldn’t be in darkness for long. Something about it freaked me out. I looked through the blinds and saw the moon. It was already nighttime. I kept feeling weird about sleeping for so long. It concerned me. My whole body felt sore like last time, and I didn't understand why. It made no sense.
I really didn't want to go out tonight nor did I want to go to the guest room to play video games. I stayed in my room, typing up a new story that popped in my mind.
I called it “Free.”
“I wonder what it would be like to truly be happy in my own skin. To not be shy for once. To not feel like there was something wrong with me. To finally feel at peace like I would in Heaven.
I still wonder if Heaven exists. The place where I would finally feel free.”
My brain couldn’t think of more to write, so I stopped. I wasn’t a great writer, but I wanted to be one day. One day in my most distant dreams. I had no clue how to get there, but I’d like to think one day, I’ll get there. One day so far away…
I didn’t know what I wanted to do other than be a writer. I felt no other life purpose but art. I remembered walking on that graduation stage in front of thousands upon thousands of students, parents, and faculty. Nervous yet empowered. Plenty of graduates clapped for me. But I didn’t see Darryl. That worried me along with the fact that this was it. I was transitioning from a world with all the stupid little things we thought we cared about to a world where the actual test begins. Living the life my parents lived now.
And there was no going back.
The last thing I ever wanted from life was to grow up. As a kid, when the teacher would ask what career we wanted, I remembered thinking that I didn’t want to be anything at all. Could I just skip all the grades, so I could do whatever I wanted until the dreaded day of having to work would come? I never wanted to be like any of the adults around me. They all looked tired and drained from what work sucked out of them. I never, in my right mind, wanted that to be me.
Darryl was different. He already had his life figured out as someone who wanted to be a piano tutor. He loved music and was going to teach kids to do the same. And I was stuck. I didn’t know how he’d end up accepting me.
But I guess he didn’t accept me. He didn’t love me anymore. There was nothing I could do about that. I was stuck being part of the unloved. The unlucky girl who ended up with no one.
All I had were my memories of him, the memories that told a story of a girl who was once loved, once cared for, once free… Once everything I could ever be and yet nothing later on. A girl who lived in a world full of fun and games.
I sat there, gripping my legs, shaking back and forth. Remembering something that I was quite frankly trying to forget.
We were in that dark, dark place like we always were. Richard smiled at me, his face like a mask you’d see at a Halloween store. It couldn’t be real. But it was real, and he was touching me, kissing me, fondling me. I can’t tell if it was slow or fast, but everything felt slow. He would do this a lot in this dark, dark place, and I would help him. I didn’t want to speak of this dark, dark place.
I cried so much in my bedroom; I gripped a hand over my mouth to prevent myself from making noise. But I couldn’t hold it in easily.
“I’m cheating on you,” I told Darryl a few weeks before high school graduation. We were at his house at the time, and I stormed out of there, assuming this would be it. Goodbye, Darryl. Forever.
“That can’t be true,” I said, following me. “Can’t we just talk about this?”
We were on our street, and I was about to cross over to my house, about to pretend to forget about all this even though I couldn’t. Looking into his eyes was hard. His sweet, sweet eyes that have looked at me with love and admiration, and all I could do was crush it. Like I crushed everything around me.
“Please, Darryl. You deserve someone better. I’m sorry,” I said before I turned away and left him there to ponder what could have gone wrong. I was crying, but I deserved my sorrows. I deserved all of it.
I wept so hard in my room. I was remembering something else that made this even worse.
I sat there in the school cafeteria all alone. Completely alone like I deserved until a voice led me out of the darkness for a bit. I didn’t understand who it was until I glanced up and saw Darryl sitting across from me. I couldn’t bear seeing his pain-filled face.
He asked me, “Diana, your dad told me that you’re now with a boy here at school. But I don’t see you with anyone.”
I looked up at him finally, seeking some hope that was never to be found again. I looked into his eyes in fear.
“What’s really going on?”
I couldn’t. I couldn’t bear to think of the horribleness I am. He took me back eventually, but I never forgave myself. How could I? Cheaters are horrible. Therefore, I am horrible.
And maybe that's why he changed his mind. I'd never forgive myself. I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. I hated myself more than I could ever imagine. I’d live all my days wondering why I did this. Why I let Richard into my life. I looked into my contacts and there he was again. Him and only him. I deserved this fate. I deserved giving my life away to this man. It was all my fault, and there was nothing I could do now.
I was past the point of crying even further. I felt numb, confused, lost. All the above. I wanted it to end, and it wouldn’t. It couldn’t. I had to keep going although I didn’t want to. For that slight hope that things would get better. I didn't know how they would. But they had to. Somehow.
I couldn’t help but wonder what went terribly wrong. I guess it was me. I was terribly wrong. I was a mistake and a fraud. I couldn’t live with myself.
I sat there in my bed. My tears by now have dried up. I didn’t want to move. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t sleep either. I was wide awake. I was still wondering what Darryl was doing although it was a mute point.
He couldn't love me. He'd never love me. I ruined my chances. I didn't imagine I'd ever love anyone else, so I was screwed. Forever. Lost without him. How could I ever move on? I didn’t even deserve to move on. I deserved staying stuck until I died. I deserved Hell and nothing more.
For a lack of a better thing to do, I stood in front of the mirror, sucking in my stomach, analyzing every part of myself. Luckily, I was one of those naturally skinny girls who could get by with a burger without gaining weight. I thought it made me special, but I still didn’t feel special.
“You have the perfect body,” my mom would say. “You look better than most your age.”
And I did. But still…I wasn't happy. I wasn't okay. I felt lost and confused.
I wasn't special enough to be Darryl’s. Not even my looks could save me. I was too selfish. But I looked in the mirror hard as though it could save me from all my problems. That it would make up for some part of me that was worthy.
I looked at my phone and saw it said 3:15am. Gosh, I really shouldn’t stay up this late, but my mind kept going and going. Spinning and spinning like a merry go round. What if Darryl didn’t love me anymore? After all, maybe to begin with, it was all a lie. My father was right. Darryl wanted nothing more out of me than sex, and I wanted nothing more out of life than to be with Richard. Richard was now my only friend.
I was still looking at that contact, still couldn’t find the strength to let go of that relationship. Because I knew he would be my only support left. And without him, I had no one. And without anyone, I also did not have myself. It was scary to feel like as though my world was a desolate island in which there was no land, no water, no buildings. Nothing but darkness and solitude. Forever.
I was looking into the mirror at my reflection once again, picking apart my small breasts and my belly that stuck out further than I wanted even with being thin. But I knew it wasn’t terrible. I knew in some ways I thought I looked attractive. But I know all that, and yet I’m here still hating myself. Because maybe, I know that this is not all I can be, and yet it’s something I focused on so much. I hated myself for being so vain. And the cycle repeated itself.
I looked into my eyes for a couple of seconds to see if I could some liveliness left. There was no one. My neck caught my eye. There was two lines I’ve never seen before. I ran my finger across them. I hoped sincerely it was nothing. But I’m not sure what it was.
I sat in my bed again, this time hiding in my covers and lying down. I was making out shapes in the ceiling, but soon, I closed my eyes. And soon, everything around me disappeared.
I was at the stairs again, but this time, I walked downstairs into the darkness down there. Deep, deep into the void.
By the time I woke up, it was 9am. I wanted to go back to sleep, but I couldn’t no matter what. The alarm clock inside of me was ringing. I knew my dad was at work today, and I was strangely relieved. I went downstairs, the light from outside spilling in, calming me yet paralyzing. I saw my mom on the couch. It seemed as though I’ve seen her all my life asleep on that couch. Tired, exhausted from everything. Out of it.
Today, I’m deciding to eat my own breakfast, to cook french toast. So, I went into the fridge with the eggs and butter and milk. Mixing the eggs with the milk. Mouth savoring, putting the bread in the bowl I get out of the cabinet. Melting the butter. Placing the bread upon a clean skillet. Flipping the pieces of bread. Finished with a touch of cinnamon spice. By this time, my masterpiece. And my mom had woken up from her nap.
Her presence in the kitchen shocked me and made me jump. “Mom, you scared me.”
“Well, I didn’t mean to. You glad to be out of school?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I don’t have to be up as early.”
“You prepared for college?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Well, maybe a few weeks before you start, you should read the required textbooks to get a head start.”
I rolled my eyes slightly. “I know, I know, Mom.”
“It’ll save you a lot of time and energy.”
“You playing tennis today?” I asked.
“No, do you want to go eat with me?”
When I was a kid, she used to force me to go eat with her since I couldn’t be home alone. It used to cut into my time watching Pokemon or playing with Darryl. But nowadays, it’s not a direct demand, rather than an indirect demand.
“I’m already eating, so…” I said, looking down in shame.
“I really would like some company.”
Guilt seeped in like honey onto a surface. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”
“Alright,” she said in her whiny tone and walked off. I felt super bad, but I knew she would think I would become full before eating with her.
Skinny Girl Trapped With FatPhobic Mom
I sat there, staring at that photo of Skinny Minny me in my tennis uniform. My mom involved me with tennis from a young age. Always played tennis in the hot weather of Texas, feeling absolutely exhausted afterwards. I was always tired. I would end up sleeping on the couch and drift into dreams that I called weird instead of nightmarish. She'd always comment on how pretty and skinny I was. How I looked better than most my age. That I had the perfect body. That I should be happy. But I wasn’t. I was nothing short of miserable. Was always comparing myself to other girls. Prettier face, bigger chest, you name it. I was thinking it, and I could never stop wishing I was someone else. My mom insisted I shouldn't complain and told me to shut up when I told her I wanted bigger breasts at 17. I would make up these stories since I was 14 and pretend for a moment I could be someone else for a little bit. Someone prettier, someone smarter, someone full of life. Not always in their head. Nothing like me. I'd try to tell my mom that people bigger than me were pretty as well, but she'd proceed to tell me instead that they were ugly or had chunky legs. I guess I had been glad I wasn't fat. That I was naturally skinny and never had to worry. Would always have a smug face about seeing those ads for weight loss on TV. I never had to be one of those people. I could be perfect like mom wanted. Had a constant judgmental attitude towards those who were fat, and I felt super ashamed of myself for these thoughts and feelings. It was like I could never be accepting towards others or myself. Was always feeling ashamed of myself.
People Thinking it was weird I slept in the same bed as my father.
People thought it was weird I'd sleep in the master bedroom with my father while my mom slept upstairs away from us. But they said nothing more, did nothing more. It was left untouched, undisturbed. But something was disturbed. Something was wrong. Something was weird. And I never could express the horrors that'd happen in the darkness that was my parent's bedroom. I wanted to weep just thinking about it. Their bedroom was much darker, like an under the Earth type feeling. Feeling I was underground and couldn't be found. I remembered standing there in my red Tshirt, belly protruding, without underwear. Feeling shamed by my father. I crawled back into bed, wanting to cry all over again.
Reunited With Darryl
Darryl was here again, in his rawest form. He was so so beautiful, and here I was still feeling rotten. Still feeling stupid and ugly. I saw that little girl in my mind so clearly. That little girl in her red shirt half naked dancing, a belly protruding proudly and feeble hands and legs lifting her up, making her stand proud and tall. I fell to my knees, crying, but Darryl caught me. I wanted anything but collapse in his arms.
“I’m here for you always. I’m not going nowhere.”
Those words felt imprisoning yet empowering. Vicious yet strangely beautiful.
I was coming back to Darryl again like we once were. Up in the unknown, now embracing the known. Nothing left but us.
And only us.
Ch 0: Pre-life
My world started in complete darkness. I smiled here before I even knew what smiling was. I looked at my whole world in awe and wonder despite its lack of color.
I’d love to believe everyone will experience or have experienced what I did before they were brought into the world. But sadly, not all will. Not all even have a pre-life. Plenty are too attached to the physical world of Earth.
I, however, was not.
Here, my spirit was beaming. Here, I knew who I was, although I didn’t have a name or words to assign anything meaning.
Here, I was safe. Here, I was okay with being in the dark. But still, curiosity led me to float around this place. Floating up, I felt like I was swimming towards this brink of light. I was having fun, going on a new and exciting adventure.
When my darkness met this light, I ended up in a field filled with grass a little taller than a mowed lawn. A place of natural beauty. There were flowers all around. This place was full of vibrancy and color. I now knew a light that began to become precious to me. Looking down at the grass, I noticed my dark, ghostly form. All I was at that time was a black, shapeless ghost. I looked like what a kid would look like under a sheet with cut out circles for eyes and mouth.
There was no sun in the sky. Only a natural light that brightened the sacred place.
As I took in this new environment and floated forward, I saw a wooden swing and got on it. This was before I noticed another ghost on the other wooden swing. The ropes attached to the wooden swings went all the way up to the sky.
Unlike me, this ghost was white with the exception of his mouth and eyes. Black like my entire form. We both looked at each other and giggled. We had no words or formations of thought processes. But already from that moment, we loved each other.
He took my hand, and we flew off the swings, having a bird eye view of the ground. He sped up and dragged me along, spinning us upside down and around in circles. In real life, I’d find this to be horrible. But here, I could care less. Here, I could be free.
But one day, after spending countless days and nights stargazing, flying around, and exploring, we had to decide if we wanted to exist in the world of risk (Earth) or to disappear forever. Disappearing forever would force our mothers to have miscarriages. We would never be known.
With our last moment here, we looked at each other on the swing and made a silent decision to go to Earth. We had seen what our lives would entail and the harshness of it. It didn’t matter to us.
All that mattered was that we would soon meet again.
In the human flesh.
Ch 31:
It was the day after high-school graduation. I woke up in the same purple room that I have had all my life. But this time, it felt like I had just woken from eternal darkness.
I reached for my phone on my nightstand next to me immediately. And I go to my messages to see if Darryl has said anything to me. But it seems as though they have all been erased. That's weird… I go to compose a message, and as I type out the name of the recipient, Darryl's name doesn't pop up. Even weirder…
I go to my contacts, and they're all gone. Except for one named Richard.
I don't understand this… How can they all be gone? How could this be?
If it all else fails, I could at least text Darryl. I know his number by heart.
Me: Hey.
Text message blocking activated.
He blocked me…? Why…?
My world crashes around me. Like the sun hitting the Earth, killing me. My life forever ending.
How could he block me? We've known each other since we were 3. He got on one knee and proposed to me the night before graduation. We were going to start our lives together.
This can't be.
I sat there in a trance. Like someone had hit me with a tranquilizer. I stay there in bed, not being able to move.
On my nightstand, I see the spinning picture frame. It now lacks the picture with Darryl and I. Both of us were smiling at the park in our neighborhood. We were on the swings, having so much fun alone. Having so much fun. I’m reliving that moment in my mind to cope.
We had been swinging there, higher and higher into the sky. Higher and higher into Maslow’s pyramid of hierarchy. Into self-actualization. Into the stratosphere. Higher and higher flying.
He jumped off as he always does. I stayed. I stayed on the swing and stopped it entirely before getting off. He would always tease me, and this time was no different.
“Come on, Diana. You know you want to. You know you do.” He grabbed the chains of the swing and shook them, taunting me. “Please?” He now cocks his head, facing me directly. He gives me that pouty face. That face of doom. “Please!” He shakes the chains like it’s monkey bars and he can’t get out of his cage.
By this point, I laugh and laugh. He’s clearly trying to amuse me at this point. And I can’t help but laugh until my stomach hurts. Laugh until I truly can’t anymore. Like a madman, he just keeps saying “Please.”
I missed this moment. I missed this time. Time of freedom and silly fun. Time of camaraderie and silly banter. Time of everything yet nothing at all. Just us having too much of a blast to the moon.
How could he throw that all away? How could he do this?
“You know all he wants is sex. He'll never marry you. He doesn't even like you. Boys are all users, Diana.”
Hearing my father's voice in my head, I snap out of the trance I'm in. My first reaction is to fly down the stairs and seek the outdoors. I need a breath of fresh air. When I get to the front door though, it’s locked. I keep pulling on the door, and it doesn’t budge. I keep pulling, and I can’t get out. I can’t try anymore, although I really want to. Maybe the back door.
I’m walking towards it slowly but suddenly. Cautious yet alert. Painstaking yet sloppy. I’m walking in between the crunched space of the red recliner couch and the wall. I don’t take up space in between, yet I feel like a waste of that.
I’m so inside my own head that I don’t notice my father sitting on the edge. I jumped at his voice. At him talking at all, saying, “It’s about time to wake up, sleepyhead. I never thought you’d even get up.”
“Oh.” All I could say, all I could breathe in. All I really could state. I’m without words. Without complete sentences.
“Want some pancakes? I made some for ya,” he says, getting up. And as he gets up, getting closer to me, I freeze. I feel like a frozen snow cone someone’s about to lick and consume all for themselves. I want to throw up but can’t. Something is stuck in my throat, and I don’t wanna know what it is.
He's talking to me now, and I don’t know what he is saying. It feels as though he is breathing down my neck, although he literally isn't. Moments are ticking, time is moving, and I can't. Until I jump and finally understand his words.
“Gotta get by, Diana. I gotta get the pancakes, sweetie.”
I want to roll my eyes, but I don’t. I simply move out of his way ever so slightly. I watch him and can't stop. Seeing his butt move and jiggle as he walked make me close my eyes a split second and then watch again, so fixated and upset by my own fixation. I feel overwhelmed as a snake and him as the bunny. I feel like my thoughts alone are eating him alive.
As he's coming back with the food, my eyes dart to his zipper in fear, but I don’t make it obvious. My perversion. My horribleness. My fault.
Before I know it, I'm strapped in, sitting in a chair, looking at food that has strawberry juice that I first perceive as blood. I'm scared even more so.
Darryl… I call out in my mind. DARRYL! I cry out in agony.
Remember, he doesn't love you anymore.
He doesn't love you anymore.
He doesn't love you anymore.
I know I have to move on.
Taking even a couple bites of these pancakes, I'm already feeling sick as hell. Sick to the point of going to the half bath to puke. It was a relief, but also a burden. A burden to bear for the rest of my days.
I have to move on from him, but I never will.
When I come back to the table, my father says, “You probably should lie down.”
“Okay,” I say, not thinking anything of it until later. I still wonder why the door is locked from the outside. I don't check it to see. I go upstairs merely as suggested.
Feeling incredibly weak, I plop on the bed and don't have much trouble passing out. But sadly, I don't get much rest.
I'm on the stairs again, and seeing my own shadow scares me into oblivion. And I'm falling into my own death. Falling into my own way to Hell. I see my dad's zipper opening wider and wider, and I'm falling into the abyss. Deeper and deeper. I cry out and scream as loud as I can. But no one hears me.
It felt as though it went on forever until I jolted into the awakened world. And I realized that this was a dream. A very horrifying symbol of my reality I did not yet understand. Unlike those you see in movies, I never made panting noises waking up. Actually, it felt as if I had just woken from a deep coma. An emotionless journey from asleep to awake.
I woke up to just that- a room full of darkness. The abyss.
Scared by the dark, I immediately turned my light on. Something didn't feel right. I felt this sense of fear creep upon me still. Something didn't feel right with my body. I felt up my shirt that my nipples had remnants of saliva. My vagina as well. My vagina felt incredibly sore.
How could I have been this tired for so long? And why does my body felt drenched in sweat and saliva?
I was shaking away painful thoughts and memories. I couldn't. I couldn’t think about it…
I reached for my phone and felt the urge to look at the only contact I have in my phone now: Richard. I put my phone down and bawled. Tears crept down my face. I put a hand over my mouth to keep me from making noise.
Stop crying, bitch!
I told myself that, and I couldn't stop thinking it was my fault. My fault for my own problems. My fault for Darryl not liking me. My fault for not being a better individual. My fault, my fault for everything bad that ever happened. It was my fault, and it would never stop being my fault.
I was crying, but got too numb to let out a single tear left. I was like Barbie; I always had to smile. Always had to be the pretty, nice girl who had zero problems. I didn't deserve to cry or complain. Rather, I deserved to live in a contorted exterior in which everyone spat upon. And I had to accept that I didn’t deserve compassion or sympathy. I was the cute, skinny girl who never had anything intelligent or great to add. I was replaceable and erasable. Forever and ever, a message unetched into the sea.
I drop the hand against my mouth to my side, and I sat there, again looking at the contact.
Darry could never love me.
My mom told me at 16 years old in a parking lot near Safeway driving school that she had me by accident. And while I didn't react the traditional way a child would be by getting super angry and upset, I did accept it. I was a mistake, and the longer I kept lying to myself, the worse it would get.
I didn't blame her for telling me the “bad” news. It wasn't her fault. It was my own.
I had nothing to offer. Nothing to offer this world. Nothing at all. Might as well end it, but I was too scared to die.
Coward.
Then, I wondered about Darryl. I wondered what he was up to.
Failure.
I couldn’t help using a worthy distraction to get those thoughts away: video games. Already had my Donkey Kong Country 2 game ready to go, one of the first video games I ever grew up with. I was excited to get away for a while, to relish in something else that had nothing to do with my problems. But something happened. Something weird.
The door that was open shut. Both doors now were locking from the outside, and I was bracing myself in absolute terror. Picturing already the worst outcome. The worst is yet to come. I just know it. I went up to try to open the door I just came out of. No use.
I turned around and my hair stood up. I felt paralyzed. I hesitantly walked towards the TV, sitting down on the bed, watching the screen. Instead of seeing the title screen like usual, I see Darryl and I walking in one of the lava levels, getting to the edge of a cliff. A shadowy Klobber makes that screeching noise I absolutely hate and comes after us, pushing us both into the lava. He sacrifices himself. We all fall in. Bubbling noises go off. There's no death music that plays. Only silence and nothing more.
I watched the screen in complete shock. Too scared to utter a single sound. The instant I heard the doors unlocked, I flew out of there. I ran downstairs. And I tried the front door again. It was still locked. I tried the back door; it was locked too. I couldn’t get out of here.
As soon as I was about to give up, I heard a window behind me open. The nearest window in the dining room had opened, leading to my escape. “Hurry before it’s too late,” a voice stated…by a frog? It was hopping in here. “Ribbit.”
I disregarded what I saw and hurried out of there. I made sure to shut the window quietly before moving on to the car my parents had put in my name. A white suburbia. Not that I care anything about cars. Of course, I forgot about my car keys, but before I could go back, I was met with the biggest black and blue spider in front of my eyes. My eyes widened with fear; my whole body froze up. That thing had its legs wrapped around my car keys. I carefully took them without touching the spider and ran around to the car. Getting the car on, I rushed to get out of the driveway and heard a splat. I assumed it was the spider, but I tried my best to get that image out of my mind.
I honestly didn’t know where I was headed. Probably nowhere. Nowhere at all. I took a right out of my street because it seemed brighter than the other one. I had the radio on to distract myself from the intense amount of fear I felt. A catchy song I never heard before kept playing over and over no matter the radio station I would turn it to. 104.1 KRBE was always my favorite, but I loved others as well. I lived in The Woodlands, TX- a very beautiful city with loads of trees.
If there was anything I loved, it was driving. Feeling like I'm floating, yet I was not. Feeling a sense of control over where I was headed. I found it odd that the radio kept playing the same song, but either way, I felt free for a moment that seemed to be fleeting. But for me, it felt like an eternity until reality would take hold of my life again. I was forever swimming in a glorious sea, cleansing my soul, restoring myself like in the Fairy Fountain in Zelda. I was in my own little world for the time being, away from everything everyone else wanted me to be.
Right now, as I was thinking of Darryl, I didn’t feel worried as much. About the fact that he blocked me. I got to be in my own alternative universe where things were once perfect. Where things were once magical. I remembered the first time we had met now when before I didn’t have that far back of a memory. Only recounts of what his mother would say.
I remembered the first time I saw him. That was back when I could walk. I was around 3 years old. He was too. I saw him out there riding one of those red bicycles with train wheels. I stared at him for a while. My mom was outside watching me. Darryl waved to me; I waved back.
“Hi,” he said loud and clear.
“Hi,” I said quietly and hesitantly.
It took a while until he was done riding. I stood there, staring. He ran over to me and smiled. And although we didn’t have proper words back then, we already liked each other. We had a bond that I never shared with anyone else. I was lucky to find it so young and at such a pure time of innocence. I can’t help but be grateful.
My mom, of course, told me to be careful of cars when crossing the street to his house, but I by default was cautious of everything. I begged her to allow me to come to his house that day, and as always, my mom let me do so.
I remembered his mother and her heartwarming smile. So welcoming. Strangely, as I grew up, I ended up looking quite similar to her- chocolate brown hair, brown eyes, and skinny figure. Except her skin complexion was a bit lighter and her hair was a bit darker. Her name was similar too- Diane. Mine was Diana. That day, I felt safe and at home. Darryl and I ended up spending the whole day together, indulging in cartoons, cars and action figures, rainbow colored blocks, and sugary delights (me more than him though. His family cared more about having actual meals). It was the perfect day, the beginning of something new. Embracing a friendship that would last a lifetime.
I drove out of the neighborhood quickly because the other paths had no lights. I ended up on the freeway, going down I-45. With no direction of where I’m going. I’m driving, and that’s it. Not being forced to drive slow, but not trying to drive fast either. A perfect balance. The music plays and plays. No commercials.
I see another car on the road that’s going faster than me. It looked like Darryl’s black car. I couldn’t keep up with it. It was whizzing forward, up in the distance, farther and farther away. Until it was out of sight, out of mind. I never saw it again that night.
Seeing that car comforted me enough to go back home. The song on the radio finally changed to something else, something more upbeat and peaceful. I also had never heard it before, but it made me happy. It calmed me and soothed my soul. Made me think everything would be okay even if it felt awful and downtrodden. I went in the same window I came out of and went upstairs to my bed to lie down. Nothing bothered me at this moment nor worried me. I smiled in the darkness before shutting my eyes.
And before I knew it, it was the next day. I woke up to light filtering in through the blinds. I woke up to these purple walls again. And I noticed writing on my mirror in what appeared to be red lipstick. I had to get closer to it to properly read it.
I still love you.
Could it be a message from Darryl? No, stop it. It probably isn’t… Maybe I wrote it? I don’t know…
“Diana?” my dad called from downstairs.
“Yes?” I answer, hoping it’s loud enough for him to hear. I look in the mirror again, and the writing is gone.
Certainly, I didn’t just imagine this…
I go outside my room so that I can hear my father.
“I just thought you and I could spend a little time together. You know, go for a drive or something.”
My father and I did this on the weekends. Today was Sunday after all.
“Okay, sure,” I said.
I went downstairs where he was, waiting, staring at me. With no real expression on his old yet non-wrinkled face. He opened the front door with ease and shut it and locked it.
Wait, how on Earth could he get it open and I couldn’t? Certainly, I wasn’t doing something right.
We went out to his black truck, the only other car we had. And we drove around here. We passed by Darryl’s house as we got out of the driveway, and I got that same pang in my heart. Reality kicked me hard and woke me up to the fact that he still doesn’t love me. If he didn’t love me, then who would? I guess there was always my parents. Sigh.
My dad had a very stoic face while driving. I only caught a glimpse of it before he looked back, and I looked away.
I still wondered if that was Darryl’s car I saw last night. I wondered if it was him, where he was going. I knew he’d sometimes drive late at night, but I never asked him where. Didn’t want to seem too pushy.
I wondered if he was thinking of me. I wanted to think I was still the only one he’d want to commit to. The last night I saw him was the night he proposed. The night before the graduation ceremony. This had to be a mistake… Did he really change his mind that soon? Had to wonder.
“Diana?” This had been the second time my father had to repeatedly call my name. Jeez, I was this out of it.
“Yes?” I said calmly despite feeling like a wreck on the inside.
“I was just wondering if you wanted something to eat.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, feeling sad, not knowing what to say.
“Wanna go to IHop?” he asked.
“Sure,” I said. “Sure.”
With my parents, there always had to be a destination in mind. But with Darryl, there never had to be. Speaking of parents…
“Where’s mom?” I asked.
“Oh, you know, at her tennis club.”
That was reasonable actually. It was a Sunday after all, and my mom did go there.
I shrugged. “Okay.”
There wasn’t much for me to really say, but my father kept talking regardless.
“So, are you glad high school’s over?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” I said.
You don’t have to work, Diana. Just rely on me. I’ll take care of you.
I remember my father saying that in the past when I turned 18. I had told him my concerns about finding a job and how hard it would be.
I feel stiff.
“Is Mom still gonna make you major in accounting?” he asked.
“Yeah. I don't want to though.”
“Then, you shouldn't have to, Diana. You should do what you want to do. After all, you're really talented in the arts.”
“Yeah I know,” I said something, anything for the sake of it. Just so I didn't blank out again.
I felt numb again like I had before senior year ended. Like I was having an out of body experience. I didn't feel real. I wished Darryl would speak to me. All I kept thinking.
“You should go for it, Diana. I believe in you.”
We looked at each other for a second. He was grinning; I could barely smile.
“Thanks.” That was all I could muster.
By this point, we were on the feeder road, turning around to go south. It took a ways before we'd finally make it there. My dad was going on and on about his own college experiences. I'd nod and listen for most of it. My dad majored in Business; I already knew that since he turned out to be a successful manager at Walmart. But he was mentioning his social experiences mostly, with girls. I didn't really have much to say to it. I just let him talk, and that was that.
When we made it to IHop, my father effortlessly talked to the host in a way I could never confidently do. Always stuttered and screwed up and made everything awkward. Talking for him, however, came easily. That was why I had a sinking feeling the day of graduation. The thought of being in the real world made my heart crumble. Like a magical castle I dreamed about once, it all came crashing down.
We made our way to a booth and sat. I already knew what I was going to get- French toast. It was my favorite thing to eat. My mom would often make it for me to devour within minutes. My dad wouldn't as much. In fact, I found it odd for him to cook for me yesterday. He rarely ever does that. After all, he was the breadwinner; my mom would stay home with me.
I still wondered about Darryl and what he was doing. I couldn’t help looking at my orange juice I ordered and would sip only a little at a time. I was so focused on my thoughts. I looked at my phone and saw that all my messages were back to normal. It showed my mom and dad’s messages to me about graduation. But still. It didn’t show that I had messaged Darryl at all. It also didn’t show Darryl in my contacts. It still didn’t. None of this made any sense.
I shook my head and rolled my eyes. My dad asked, “Are you okay?”
‘Yeah,” I said right away. But I wasn’t. Darryl wasn’t talking to me. The one person outside of my family who I could trust more than anything. How could I be okay with that? There was no way. No way in h-e-l-l I could throw away everything I had with him and pretend he was nothing to me.
“You know all he wants is sex. He'll never marry you. He doesn't even like you. Boys are all users, Diana.”
My dad’s voice in my head got to me. I couldn’t help but say something.
“Dad, do you think Darryl is gonna talk to me? I mean, it shows that he blocked me yesterday, but I just wonder what’s been going on.”
My dad smiled knowingly at me. “I think you answered your own question, Diana. I wouldn’t worry about what a boy your age does. They’re all the same anyway.”
But I was worried, and I couldn’t stop. How could he do this to me? Has he already moved on, and I didn’t know? How could he move on? How could he? How could he…?
Questions spiraled out of control even as we made our way back home. I felt like I was on one of those rides that spinned me around and around to the point where I’d get sick. And I was. I was sick.
I still love you.
I still didn’t believe that. I didn’t believe what that message said in the mirror. It couldn’t be, could it?
But there was a little piece of me inside of a large puzzle of non-beliefs that did believe.
I was looking into that mirror, smiling, almost giggling all over again. I touched that mirror and said the unforgettable. The words that reflected back like the mirror did my warmth and happiness.
“I love you too.”
Ch 30
It was another day of being enclosed by these purple walls, trying to figure out what to do with myself. I found myself walking to the guest room, about to open the door. Then, remembering what happened last time. I wanted to see the pictures inside the dresser there, but what if it was a trap? What if it was…?
I stepped back and looked into the mirror in the room I was in. I looked in my mirror a lot since I was a kid. I was always curious about how my body looked. But I didn’t see me. Instead, I saw Darryl. I didn’t gasp, but I had my mouth ajar as I stared into his eyes. Stared into his soul. He said nothing, and I said nothing. Yet I felt we were saying something without words. I wanted to see all the pictures resembling our memories together.
I remembered the first time he asked me out. In intermediate school, he had signed my yearbook and wrote, “Do you wanna be my secret girlfriend?”
The front door downstairs shutting snapped me out of my trance. My well-furnished trance. I assumed it was my mom since she was calling my name pretty loud. Darryl in the mirror vanished. I must have been seeing things.
“What?” I said angrily, although I wasn’t trying to seem angry. “What?” I said a second time and a third.
We could finally hear each other as I reached the halfway mark down the stairs. She was in the foyer, looking up at me.
This happened all too often. Her screaming from the bottom of the stairs and me having to see what she wanted.
“Can you help me?” This was a question she asked a lot, and she was asking it now. “Can you help me bring the groceries in?”
“Right now?” I asked, seeing if I could put it off and be left alone. But clearly, I couldn’t be.
“Yes. Please help me.”
I rolled my eyes and said, “Ugh.”
When I made it to the white Suburbia outside, there was an overwhelming amount of groceries filling the car seats and the floor as well. I was already muttering under my breath, already feeling frustrated. Already feeling overwhelmed and pissed off. I knew I shouldn’t be, and I felt bad, but I couldn’t stop it. I rushed, getting as many as four or five groceries in my hand at a time. I zoomed in and out, doing anything to make this go by faster. That was one thing I hated more than anything- too many groceries in our car. Because my tired brain would go, “Oh…great.” It happened more often than not though. After all, we had the money to get too many.
As I was getting more groceries from the car, I suddenly remembered things flashing before my eyes. My mother calling me stupid. She did this quite a bit for any mistake I made. One time, I lost an old flip phone when I was 13. And my mom instantly got frustrated with me, saying that one word I hated more than anything- stupid. I always thought I was dumb because when I went to the lost and found lady at school, I couldn’t describe the phone at all. So, she couldn’t help me. And I felt helpless. I did feel more than stupid. I felt like the lowest being on this earth.
And I still did now. I could never explain things properly. I always got things wrong, and my mom would get furious with me. Never felt I did anything right. That I was never going to go anywhere in life. That I would stay stuck. Forever.
I was getting more groceries inside the house on the counters and on the table, hurrying to put them up, feeling more and more irritated. My mom was nitpicking me about everything right now. Put the milk and juices on this side in the fridge, put the butter and fruit on the top shelf, put pop tarts in the pantry on this shelf and not that one, etc. I didn’t feel like arguing with her, but I did feel a wind of exhaustion on my part. I felt exhausted whether I argued or not. I wanted to get this over with and move on with my day. It took a while before this ended, and by the time it did, I felt like lying down upstairs and closing my eyes.
Soon, I was at the top of the stairs again. The light near the attic flickered. The light going on and off made my heart beat faster. I could feel it and hear it. This time, the stairs disappeared into darkness, and Darryl was clinging onto the edge of the top stair with his hands. But he was slipping, and he couldn't hold on for long. Something prevented me from moving to help him. He kept begging me to help him. My body couldn't move. But my mind raced to the finish line to claim my prize.
He looked at me one last time before he fell into the abyss below. The light stayed off now. And I kept hearing in eternal darkness “It's your fault. It's your fault. It's your fault.”
“It's your fault…”
I woke up normally as if I hadn't had a crazy nightmare. And I was in fact in complete darkness. Immediately, I turned on the light with the fan switch. I couldn’t be in darkness for long. Something about it freaked me out. I looked through the blinds and saw the moon. It was already nighttime. I kept feeling weird about sleeping for so long. It concerned me. My whole body felt sore like last time, and I didn't understand why. It made no sense.
I really didn't want to go out tonight nor did I want to go to the guest room to play video games. I stayed in my room, typing up a new story that popped in my mind.
I called it “Free.”
“I wonder what it would be like to truly be happy in my own skin. To not be shy for once. To not feel like there was something wrong with me. To finally feel at peace like I would in Heaven.
I still wonder if Heaven exists. The place where I would finally feel free.”
My brain couldn’t think of more to write, so I stopped. I wasn’t a great writer, but I wanted to be one day. One day in my most distant dreams. I had no clue how to get there, but I’d like to think one day, I’ll get there. One day so far away…
I didn’t know what I wanted to do other than be a writer. I felt no other life purpose but art. I remembered walking on that graduation stage in front of thousands upon thousands of students, parents, and faculty. Nervous yet empowered. Plenty of graduates clapped for me. But I didn’t see Darryl. That worried me along with the fact that this was it. I was transitioning from a world with all the stupid little things we thought we cared about to a world where the actual test begins. Living the life my parents lived now.
And there was no going back.
The last thing I ever wanted from life was to grow up. As a kid, when the teacher would ask what career we wanted, I remembered thinking that I didn’t want to be anything at all. Could I just skip all the grades, so I could do whatever I wanted until the dreaded day of having to work would come? I never wanted to be like any of the adults around me. They all looked tired and drained from what work sucked out of them. I never, in my right mind, wanted that to be me.
Darryl was different. He already had his life figured out as someone who wanted to be a piano tutor. He loved music and was going to teach kids to do the same. And I was stuck. I didn’t know how he’d end up accepting me.
But I guess he didn’t accept me. He didn’t love me anymore. There was nothing I could do about that. I was stuck being part of the unloved. The unlucky girl who ended up with no one.
All I had were my memories of him, the memories that told a story of a girl who was once loved, once cared for, once free… Once everything I could ever be and yet nothing later on. A girl who lived in a world full of fun and games.
I sat there, gripping my legs, shaking back and forth. Remembering something that I was quite frankly trying to forget.
We were in that dark, dark place like we always were. Richard smiled at me, his face like a mask you’d see at a Halloween store. It couldn’t be real. But it was real, and he was touching me, kissing me, fondling me. I can’t tell if it was slow or fast, but everything felt slow. He would do this a lot in this dark, dark place, and I would help him. I didn’t want to speak of this dark, dark place.
I cried so much in my bedroom; I gripped a hand over my mouth to prevent myself from making noise. But I couldn’t hold it in easily.
“I’m cheating on you,” I told Darryl a few weeks before high school graduation. We were at his house at the time, and I stormed out of there, assuming this would be it. Goodbye, Darryl. Forever.
“That can’t be true,” I said, following me. “Can’t we just talk about this?”
We were on our street, and I was about to cross over to my house, about to pretend to forget about all this even though I couldn’t. Looking into his eyes was hard. His sweet, sweet eyes that have looked at me with love and admiration, and all I could do was crush it. Like I crushed everything around me.
“Please, Darryl. You deserve someone better. I’m sorry,” I said before I turned away and left him there to ponder what could have gone wrong. I was crying, but I deserved my sorrows. I deserved all of it.
I wept so hard in my room. I was remembering something else that made this even worse.
I sat there in the school cafeteria all alone. Completely alone like I deserved until a voice led me out of the darkness for a bit. I didn’t understand who it was until I glanced up and saw Darryl sitting across from me. I couldn’t bear seeing his pain-filled face.
He asked me, “Diana, your dad told me that you’re now with a boy here at school. But I don’t see you with anyone.”
I looked up at him finally, seeking some hope that was never to be found again. I looked into his eyes in fear.
“What’s really going on?”
I couldn’t. I couldn’t bear to think of the horribleness I am. He took me back eventually, but I never forgave myself. How could I? Cheaters are horrible. Therefore, I am horrible.
And maybe that's why he changed his mind. I'd never forgive myself. I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. I hated myself more than I could ever imagine. I’d live all my days wondering why I did this. Why I let Richard into my life. I looked into my contacts and there he was again. Him and only him. I deserved this fate. I deserved giving my life away to this man. It was all my fault, and there was nothing I could do now.
I was past the point of crying even further. I felt numb, confused, lost. All the above. I wanted it to end, and it wouldn’t. It couldn’t. I had to keep going although I didn’t want to. For that slight hope that things would get better. I didn't know how they would. But they had to. Somehow.
I couldn’t help but wonder what went terribly wrong. I guess it was me. I was terribly wrong. I was a mistake and a fraud. I couldn’t live with myself.
I sat there in my bed. My tears by now have dried up. I didn’t want to move. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t sleep either. I was wide awake. I was still wondering what Darryl was doing although it was a mute point.
He couldn't love me. He'd never love me. I ruined my chances. I didn't imagine I'd ever love anyone else, so I was screwed. Forever. Lost without him. How could I ever move on? I didn’t even deserve to move on. I deserved staying stuck until I died. I deserved Hell and nothing more.
For a lack of a better thing to do, I stood in front of the mirror, sucking in my stomach, analyzing every part of myself. Luckily, I was one of those naturally skinny girls who could get by with a burger without gaining weight. I thought it made me special, but I still didn’t feel special.
“You have the perfect body,” my mom would say. “You look better than most your age.”
And I did. But still…I wasn't happy. I wasn't okay. I felt lost and confused.
I wasn't special enough to be Darryl’s. Not even my looks could save me. I was too selfish. But I looked in the mirror hard as though it could save me from all my problems. That it would make up for some part of me that was worthy.
I looked at my phone and saw it said 3:15am. Gosh, I really shouldn’t stay up this late, but my mind kept going and going. Spinning and spinning like a merry go round. What if Darryl didn’t love me anymore? After all, maybe to begin with, it was all a lie. My father was right. Darryl wanted nothing more out of me than sex, and I wanted nothing more out of life than to be with Richard. Richard was now my only friend.
I was still looking at that contact, still couldn’t find the strength to let go of that relationship. Because I knew he would be my only support left. And without him, I had no one. And without anyone, I also did not have myself. It was scary to feel like as though my world was a desolate island in which there was no land, no water, no buildings. Nothing but darkness and solitude. Forever.
I was looking into the mirror at my reflection once again, picking apart my small breasts and my belly that stuck out further than I wanted even with being thin. But I knew it wasn’t terrible. I knew in some ways I thought I looked attractive. But I know all that, and yet I’m here still hating myself. Because maybe, I know that this is not all I can be, and yet it’s something I focused on so much. I hated myself for being so vain. And the cycle repeated itself.
I looked into my eyes for a couple of seconds to see if I could some liveliness left. There was no one. My neck caught my eye. There was two lines I’ve never seen before. I ran my finger across them. I hoped sincerely it was nothing. But I’m not sure what it was.
I sat in my bed again, this time hiding in my covers and lying down. I was making out shapes in the ceiling, but soon, I closed my eyes. And soon, everything around me disappeared.
I was at the stairs again, but this time, I walked downstairs into the darkness down there. Deep, deep into the void.
By the time I woke up, it was 9am. I wanted to go back to sleep, but I couldn’t no matter what. The alarm clock inside of me was ringing. I knew my dad was at work today, and I was strangely relieved. I went downstairs, the light from outside spilling in, calming me yet paralyzing. I saw my mom on the couch. It seemed as though I’ve seen her all my life asleep on that couch. Tired, exhausted from everything. Out of it.
Today, I’m deciding to eat my own breakfast, to cook french toast. So, I went into the fridge with the eggs and butter and milk. Mixing the eggs with the milk. Mouth savoring, putting the bread in the bowl I get out of the cabinet. Melting the butter. Placing the bread upon a clean skillet. Flipping the pieces of bread. Finished with a touch of cinnamon spice. By this time, my masterpiece. And my mom had woken up from her nap.
Her presence in the kitchen shocked me and made me jump. “Mom, you scared me.”
“Well, I didn’t mean to. You glad to be out of school?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I don’t have to be up as early.”
“You prepared for college?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Well, maybe a few weeks before you start, you should read the required textbooks to get a head start.”
I rolled my eyes slightly. “I know, I know, Mom.”
“It’ll save you a lot of time and energy.”
“You playing tennis today?” I asked.
“No, do you want to go eat with me?”
When I was a kid, she used to force me to go eat with her since I couldn’t be home alone. It used to cut into my time watching Pokemon or playing with Darryl. But nowadays, it’s not a direct demand, rather than an indirect demand.
“I’m already eating, so…” I said, looking down in shame.
“I really would like some company.”
Guilt seeped in like honey onto a surface. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”
“Alright,” she said in her whiny tone and walked off. I felt super bad, but I knew she would think I would become full before eating with her.
Skinny Girl Trapped With FatPhobic Mom
I sat there, staring at that photo of Skinny Minny me in my tennis uniform. My mom involved me with tennis from a young age. Always played tennis in the hot weather of Texas, feeling absolutely exhausted afterwards. I was always tired. I would end up sleeping on the couch and drift into dreams that I called weird instead of nightmarish. She'd always comment on how pretty and skinny I was. How I looked better than most my age. That I had the perfect body. That I should be happy. But I wasn’t. I was nothing short of miserable. Was always comparing myself to other girls. Prettier face, bigger chest, you name it. I was thinking it, and I could never stop wishing I was someone else. My mom insisted I shouldn't complain and told me to shut up when I told her I wanted bigger breasts at 17. I would make up these stories since I was 14 and pretend for a moment I could be someone else for a little bit. Someone prettier, someone smarter, someone full of life. Not always in their head. Nothing like me. I'd try to tell my mom that people bigger than me were pretty as well, but she'd proceed to tell me instead that they were ugly or had chunky legs. I guess I had been glad I wasn't fat. That I was naturally skinny and never had to worry. Would always have a smug face about seeing those ads for weight loss on TV. I never had to be one of those people. I could be perfect like mom wanted. Had a constant judgmental attitude towards those who were fat, and I felt super ashamed of myself for these thoughts and feelings. It was like I could never be accepting towards others or myself. Was always feeling ashamed of myself.
People Thinking it was weird I slept in the same bed as my father.
People thought it was weird I'd sleep in the master bedroom with my father while my mom slept upstairs away from us. But they said nothing more, did nothing more. It was left untouched, undisturbed. But something was disturbed. Something was wrong. Something was weird. And I never could express the horrors that'd happen in the darkness that was my parent's bedroom. I wanted to weep just thinking about it. Their bedroom was much darker, like an under the Earth type feeling. Feeling I was underground and couldn't be found. I remembered standing there in my red Tshirt, belly protruding, without underwear. Feeling shamed by my father. I crawled back into bed, wanting to cry all over again.
Reunited With Darryl
Darryl was here again, in his rawest form. He was so so beautiful, and here I was still feeling rotten. Still feeling stupid and ugly. I saw that little girl in my mind so clearly. That little girl in her red shirt half naked dancing, a belly protruding proudly and feeble hands and legs lifting her up, making her stand proud and tall. I fell to my knees, crying, but Darryl caught me. I wanted anything but collapse in his arms.
“I’m here for you always. I’m not going nowhere.”
Those words felt imprisoning yet empowering. Vicious yet strangely beautiful.
I was coming back to Darryl again like we once were. Up in the unknown, now embracing the known. Nothing left but us.
And only us.
Published 2nd Oct 2024
Author's Note
I just need my voice heard. I don't care about money..
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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11th Oct 2024 2:53pm
11th Oct 2024 2:57pm
11th Oct 2024 3:07pm
Also, you are very, very talented. Look forward to more. Hugs and love, Oral
11th Oct 2024 4:01pm
