Search for Light

The cast on my left arm made it even harder to sleep, but I tried anyway. I would lay on my arm the wrong way, and it would hurt, or…I could go to sleep, greeted by a friendly onslaught of guilt-driven dreams. I couldn’t sleep, and I didn’t want to blink. Sitting in the darkness, I began to hear their voices, growing louder and louder, their words blurred to my ears.

 

I struggled harder and harder to avoid the sound, but the more I tried, the louder it became…screaming in my ears. I moved away from the sound, sliding off of the couch, and landing in blood. The blood was cold, and it wasn’t mind. The screaming in my ears grew louder as I stared at the big, dark puddle on my marble floor, as it trickled to a silhouette beside the large, open window leading to the balcony. A female figure, motionless, except for the gown that wrapped around her body, shimmering eerily in the moonlight, and the hair gently flowing to the wind. My heart froze in my chest, then it joined the screaming in my ears, beating harder than any drum. My eyes locked onto the being before me, and I felt a solitary warm tear trickle down my face, dripping off of my chin.

“Why kill? You monster…”

I could hear the scream, now. The figure of the female stretched its arms out, and the transparent fabric of the gown displayed her figure. Lightening struck, and all too familiar figure was there behind the female, their face obvious, distinguished by a trimmed beard, and a bullet hole in his forehead. It was my ex fiancée, unquestionably.

“Monster…”

His voice growled beneath the screams, and everything blacked out for a moment. It was day, the sun was shining now. The floor beneath me was dry, and there wasn’t a trace of blood on me. The window was open gently, a warm breeze wafted through the window, contrast as the cold, sharp wind that was stinging my face moments ago. I looked at the pure white marble floor beneath me, reflecting my face almost perfectly. My disheveled hair was mad about me, and I appeared to have just awakened. My thin, normally sharp focused face was obviously different…I always heard that I looked hard-edged, but now I looked afraid. My heart was still racing in my chest, though I felt nothing to say was proof of moments before, except my own memory. Was it just a dream?

I didn’t go to work today, I couldn’t. As I hung up with Earlston, I felt a chill run through my spine. My arm, chest, and leg ached suddenly, but only momentarily, as the cold flowed through me. I couldn’t think straight, I’m just tired. I had a nightmare, and didn’t sleep well…

I was home, still. I was home, but this place felt unfamiliar…I didn’t belong here. As the dream ran through my mind, I felt more and more like an intruder to my own home. Slowly, it stopped being just my home, but I began I was unwelcome period, I didn’t belong here. I didn’t belong here, I belonged in jail.

I looked into the mirror, across from me on the bed. Once, it supported my own vanity, now it made me to feel as if my own image was parting me with sanity. My lips were dull, only a soft pink trace remained upon them. My emerald eyes were only green today, my snowy skin was only ice. I would retreat to my room, and take comfort in the only things that made any part of my life a success: my appearance.

Through all of school, I never cared to try. I was bullied, so I’d been taking martial arts since 7th grade. My older brother always told me it was a waste of time, but since he died a month later in a school shooting, it only fortified my desire to learn. I would take no bullets point blank, for any reason. I never really had to fight, when I gave it thought, though. My brother was always there, sticking up for me. After he died, nobody spoke to me, and I was fine that way.

I know how Carrie felt, I know how it feels to lose a brother. My heart leapt into my throat, and choked me as a tear fell down my cheek. This is the first time it seemed to dawn on me, the gravity of what I’d done. My head began to ring, and I struggled to breathe over my heart, the grief filtering the air in my lungs and playing in my chest. I took everything from her-from them. I didn’t earn the right to cry, but here I was, folded before my vanity, my head in my arms, and sobbing hysterically. I didn’t have the right, but I was crying, anyway.

Around 3:00 PM, I finally left the house, to see a friend of mine. Her eyes, usually bright in their hazel warmth, were chilled as her gaze fell upon me. Still, her lips curved into the same smile as always, as she greeted me with a forced enthusiasm.

“Oh, Jenise! It’s nice to see you! Is everything okay?”
“Yeah…I just needed to get out of the house.”
“Well, I hate to say it, but it’s from one and into another now. Come in!”

I smiled at her naturally cheerful nature, though I know she knew why I was really here. As I stepped in, she turned off her television, she’d been watching the news. She guided me to a couch, and had me seated before I had the chance to say anything more.

“Jen, you need anything? Do you want something to drink?”
“No, thanks. Sam, we haven’t talked for a while now, how are you?”

She took a seat across from me, folding her legs and placing her hands together upon them. I could see in her face she didn’t care to answer the question, but she didn’t hesitate to do so. She’s so good at keeping a strong face…and reading them. I know she saw through me.

“Well, I’m sure you heard about Jeff. He’ll be out of the hospital in a week, according to the doctor…”
“Damn…what happened, anyway?”
“He got ran over on his way home from work. I always tell him to drive, but he insists on walking. I’m gonna be driving him now, rather he likes it or not.”

Her and Jeff had been high school sweethearts, and she’d been married to him for 5 years, now. She stuck beside him even though her family absolutely hated him, just like I had done with Mortig. In the end, through burned bridges, she was all I had, and so she didn’t like to talk about her problems with me. She was always so selfless…it always made me feel guilty.

“Enough on me though, how are you? You’re on TV, yunno.”
“I’m fine, it was an accident.”
“No, you’re not. I know you better than that.”

My paste on smile dissipated, and I lowered my head so my hair shielded my face as it grew hot with mixed emotions. At first, I gritted my teeth, trying to avoid snapping, then I exhaled hard, depressed again. My voice was already cracking by the time I gathered the will to speak.

“I’m as okay as I deserve to be.”
“You made a mistake, Jen. Don’t live on it.”
“I don’t get to die on it.” I muttered low beneath my breath, then Sam’s eyes narrowed quickly.

Sam’s hand was the last thing I saw before a flash in my eyes, and I knew as I fell back against the chair I was in that she’d hit me. I felt her grasp over me, holding me down firm, and resolute. I didn’t struggle, but she didn’t let go. I hated it so much when she’d gotten this way…

“Jen, you made a mistake-don’t linger on it. It’s a part of life.”
“My mistake ENDED somebody’s life.”
“All the more reason to learn from it.”
“I’m not even going to be put on trial…”

To my surprise, she let me up, and I shuddered at the realization that I almost wanted to go at her for the moment’s events. I slouched into the chair, letting my head hang, and forcing myself still-submissive.

“Jen…I know you, you let your emotions affect you-but it’s only expected. Not even your superior officer would put up well with them assaulting them with a knife.”
“That’s the problem, I began the offensive.”

I looked through the obscured sight of my hair to see her face just in time as it went pale. Her eyes trembled, and I felt a sense of twisted accomplishment as she began to realize the more horrific part of the story-that I WAS, in all truth, a cold blooded, murderer of youth.

“It was an average arrest at first. Most don’t struggled too much, a uniform means a gun, and most hardly look to see if I have one. Them, they struggled, but they never tried to hurt me. And to be honest, who could blame them for struggling? They were innocent, I knew it, they knew it. These are details left out of the police report, but I told them I’d help them, because those children knew they were f*****g innocent!”

My voice broke, and I struggled to breathe for a moment, before I managed a sharp inhale. It wasn’t long before my sight was blurred by the tears streaming down my face, as I tried so hard to tell her the story. I wanted her to know just how fucked up things were-I wanted her to hate me, like I hated me.

Instead, I felt the tears growing heavier, harder, as I felt her pull me in, against her chest. For only a brief moment, I felt like a helpless child in her arms, as she held one head gently against my head, trying to comfort me-but then I saw myself in the eyes of the children I’d slain. I couldn’t form a word, I struggled to breathe. I wanted to be anywhere but in her arms, I didn’t deserve her consolation. I didn’t deserve ANYONE’S consolation. As my pathetic sobs grew harder and harder, I felt more fed up with being in her arms-my body was burning hot, and I was trying to speak through gritted teeth. For a moment, I tried to push myself free-but it was a weak, and feeble attempt…and I submit myself undeservingly to her sympathy.

“You don’t understand, I don’t deserve this! I killed—“ I trailed off once more to incoherent heaving-frustrated I couldn’t even speak.

“You messed up, I’ll give you that. But you’re guilty, and here you are, in all your sadness, looking for light, right?”