Forever Solitude

My name is Shiloh. My birthday is March 18^th, and as of now I am nine years old. I’m not your average little kid �" I’m very mature for my age, actually �" and my mom and dad are probably going to get divorced.

You didn’t need to know any of that, but I figured I’d get it out there anyway. Here are some more random facts before I start my story.

To escape the burden of my fighting family, and the fights that occur in my house daily, I daydream. I’ve sketched out this new world, called Bridgeriver, where I’m the only one there. In solitude, everything is beautiful. I’m not lonely because it’s just like everyday life without the stress, and I’ve grown used to being alone. I’m not scared because there’s nothing there to hurt me. I escape into this world on a daily basis now. It’s the only place where I can be safe.

In Bridgeriver, there are beautiful bridges over crystal-clear rivers. The rivers all flow very gently, but they all lead to a raging waterfall that crashes into a beautiful silver lake. The river that leads the waterfall to the lake is the only thing that's dangerous. I can’t ever cross it, and although Bridgeriver is a large place, I can’t escape the rushing sounds of it. It’s the only thing that could hurt me if I ever crossed it.

Shiloh sits in a corner, her back against the wall, her eyes shut and her hands over her head. She’s curled in a ball, huddling behind the couch. Anything to escape her indignant mom, her furious dad. They fight nightly, usually because her dad comes home late. Sometimes it gets violent, and they hit each other. Almost always, her dad would leave the house. Shiloh is still huddling in the corner. She won’t get up.

The rushing river reminds me of my mom and dad. No, no, don’t think of that; they’re who you’re trying to get away from. I wonder how long I could stay in Bridgeriver, sit in this trance. Maybe forever �" maybe forever solitude would be more peaceful than going back.

Shiloh’s parents are still fighting. Her dad takes a swing at her mom, who ducks. He throws her into the wall, and she screams and spits in his face, defiant. No one thinks to look for Shiloh. They only care about themselves.

It’s quiet here, but for the rush of the river. I can sit beneath the tree and stare at the beauty of everything for hours. The clouds are tinted purple, the air is crisp and clear, and everywhere is the rush of the water. It’s so pretty here.

Her mom is bruised and beaten; her dad is red-faced and irate. Neither will give up the fight. It started with the usual �" where have you been �" and turned into the typical �" you should move out, you should get a better job �" and then got violent. Just like always.

I don’t think anyone blames me for escaping to here. But I’m the only one who knows about my secret escape. I’d rather be here than anywhere else in the world. I’d rather be alone than with anyone else in the world. All I want is to stay here, where there is peace and no fighting, where the roaring silence is the only sound.

Finally, Shiloh’s dad packs up and leaves. He’ll stay in a hotel, or in the car overnight. Shiloh’s mom breathes out almost impatiently. “When will he ever learn,” she sighs. Finally, she goes to find Shiloh. She sees her daughter slumped behind the couch, and stops breathing. She checks her pulse, her chest, her mouth. She seems to be almost sleeping. The mom screams for help, cries out in alarm. Something is wrong with Shiloh.