Jamie

Prologue for a school project. I might write more later.

When I closed my eyes, the faded imprint of his face was glowing in a yellowish purple hue. The incandescent bulb hung above my bed and I methodically watched the long black and tattered cord swing back and forth, creating new shadows in my small angular room. With every oscillation, the sinking feelings of epiphanies were making my body heavy and nothing about the last few moments of thought made me feel I was in the right state of mind. My optic white duvet reflected my thoughts back to me in a way that became increasingly annoying. Somehow, this seemed ironic, and maybe even necessary. If I closed my eyes tightly, I could still see his tall silhouette in front of my window. The quiet pink and red backdrop of my eyelids gave it new meaning, a contrasting softness to my reality. His last words before slamming the door were bouncing around in my head. They played repeatedly, like a popular silent movie, a black and white horror film burned into my retinas. I could see my reply reverberate through the room, A's and M's stuck best to my floral wallpaper, the rest were content on floating above my head. The words, "Love" and "Hate", dangled about the mirror enjoying their reflection. I could see my face through the cloudy glass, and I was frightened at the person I saw. She had my features, but her eyes were so vapid. Once filled with live and vigor, but now took on a new persona, one they assumed though life's circumstances. I heard the drop of a picture frame echoing; I knew it was silver with white flowers and my mother had given it to me on my graduation. “For your new life and loves,” she had said after I had only torn open the corner of the gift. She was always doing this, giving away the surprise of the unknown. But now, her words offered me some comfort, a small hope that the picture of his face could be replaced and maybe somehow, all of the wrongs could be made right, and that my emotions would fade with the imprint of his face. Over time, the wounds would heal and so would my perceptions of myself. The reflection would no longer show me his soulless intensions. My cold dark eyes, would remember their color and my aching spirit would rejoice and dance with life once again. The empty spaces I had tried so hard to fill would overflow with an unending compassion. The actions of my past would be forgiven, and I would return to the one with open arms. The person I had once known was no longer there, but now she would have a new name and life beyond this understanding.