Going Nowhere

A Story by Kelley Quinn

Work in progress. Slowly not making progress, though.

The next page of the music was flipped and the sound of it was like an orchestra. Every movement and sound in that room could make anyone paranoid. The walls were flashing white like neon signs at an old drive in. Every smile and laugh seemed to be getting closer each time they occurred. There was no escape. The door that my legs wanted to carry me to seemed miles away, but yet scrunched in like everything else. My fingertips were ice: frozen. Even my mind, I could feel it, was beginning to creep toward solid hibernation.

That was it. No more of this. None at all. The sound of each pound was in my ears as my feet, one after another, hit the ground beneath me. A small spark of pain jolted through my arms as I hit the door with immense force. It slowly decreased, though, as I ran farther and farther away from that horrid building. There was no way to tell if anyone noticed my sudden bolt for freedom or if they all just didn’t care; they just nodded their heads and pretended that they understood what I was going through.

But they didn’t.

Fresh pine hit my nose like I had smacked dead into a brick wall. It filled my head with thoughts of trees, birds, and young childhood memories. This forest was so familiar; it was like a second home to me. Everything was silent here. That’s why I liked it. Peace. Perfection. Nothing could harm me here. Nothing except my own memories. I quickly slammed those doors shut in my mind. I would not think about it. No matter what, my promise would be kept to not go back to those memories.

The fake smiling people in the church would not notice me gone. I hadn’t made a huge impression anyway. What was the point? We all knew why we were there. We all knew there was no reason to pretend that something didn’t happen. Something did happen. Something I would never forget. Death doesn’t kill only the one who died. But they wouldn’t understand that. Adults spend too much time trying to comfort the children that don’t want to be comforted. When in reality, they are the ones that need comforting. I could never imagine losing a child. Then again, it can’t be as bad as losing your best friend, your sister.

Green grass and bumblebees would be the perfect combination for a summer day. Today was not. In my mind, the green grass was gray and dying, just like my world, and the bumblebees dragged along like weights were tied onto their small, plump bodies. In my world, nothing was beautiful anymore. Colors were dull and smiles were flipped. Not even a child’s laugh could bring joy back into this world of mine.

Just a low thunk came from my head as it fell onto the gray grass. Blades of it almost touched my eyes, but weren’t quite long enough. Still, they were irritating and I pulled at them until all the ones in front of my face were only little tuffs. My clenched hands did not release the crunched up pieces. Instead, they laid there, in front of my face, motionless. Everything in sight instantly became blurry. Tears poured out of my eyes. Slowly at first and then faster.

It was like nothing could stop them. The tears just kept coming and coming. No matter how many times I wiped at my eyes, they filled right back up the second I took my sleeve away. After a couple of moments, I had rubbed off all of the clumps of black makeup these strange women had tried to smear on my eyelashes. I had told them I didn’t want anything on my face. I was fine the way I was. They didn’t listen. They didn’t care. ‘On with the black chunks!’ they said, or so my mind made up.

No one cared that I was lost and confused. That maybe I did know what was going on. I wasn’t a child. Not ignorant. I notice things. I was the one who was there. I was the one who screamed and called for help. I was the one who saw. I saw it. I shut my eyes. I tried to block that part of the memory out. As hard as I strained, it would not come out. I should have expected that. For hours I had lied awake at night, practicing. Trying to block it out.

It finally occurred to me that I was terribly exhausted. I had been feeling like that a lot lately. Too much effort into everything. These nightly and daily crying sessions were beginning to wear me down. My eyes crinkled and my view became even worse. It was like the whole world was painted by Monet. I liked it better this way. The world didn’t seem so bright and ready to swallow me whole. I could relax in this stage. My eyes fully closed and before I could get a grip on whether I should stay here and sleep or not, I was deep into a dream of that day. That day that caused all memories that I tried so hard to resist facing.

It was a nice day. The green leaves glimmered happily on the trees, reflecting the sunlight that poured form the afternoon sun. In order to get at least a glimpse of the sun, I had to cover my eyes with my hand, and even then it was hard to see past the glaring light. Despite the hotness of the day, a smile, just like butter, spread across my face: smooth and quickly. “Isn’t it beautiful here, Izzy?” I asked her, stilling gazing up at the sun. “Yes.” She murmured, not completely submerged into our conversation.

The ocean glinted like diamond eyes. It shined as you tottered back and forth. Entranced by it, I didn’t notice when Izzy had gotten up and left. Wind swooshed by and an odd chill swept through me. It wasn’t a normal chill. Not one where you just shiver a bit and put on a sweater. Something was wrong. Goosebumps rose on my arms, concluding my theory. In a hurry, I turned, expecting Izzy’s face to be only inches from mine, her wide brim smile splattered on her face. But she wasn’t there.

Panicked now, I hopped to my feet. Already a bead of sweat had formed on the back of my neck. Not from the heat, but from the fact that the wind had felt so off. Everything was so quiet…It was the beach. There were supposed to be people laughing, dogs barking, waves washing up on the shore. And yet, it was as if everyone had stepped off the face of the earth except for me. And where had Izzy gone?

A noise broke the silent trance hovering over the beach. Tires screeching to a stop, but not stopping fast enough. Voices yelled. They were filled with frantic screams. Not frantic or urgent enough, it would seem. Where was Izzy? I wasn’t fast enough. My legs were filled with lead and my brain was bubbled. The sand slowed me down even more. The asphalt beneath me hurt but I ignored it as I ran. “IZZY?! WHERE ARE YOU?!” I called out, but not quite hearing my voice. It was like the volume had been turned down on the whole area.

Even if I had figured out what was going on moments before, I probably still wouldn’t have been able to save her. I figured that out after hours of telling myself it was my fault. It was, though. Although, I still wasn’t sure why she had just gotten up and walked into the middle of the road. Maybe she didn’t see the car. Maybe she was fed up with her life. Which I didn’t understand, either. I’ll never know, because I'll never be able to ask her.