Thursday, 1 December 2011

Exit. Chapter 20






“Oh, shut up!” I say as I see the rest of the team stand near me. But nothing comes out. I stare. I open my mouth, but it remains shut.




I bend in two, trying to open my mouth to-

To breathe?

I look up. I feel my knees touch the grass. My left arm aching dragging me towards the ground. A burning flame in my throat, going down, down, down and reaching my heart as I see blurs, flashes of people hovering above me. One after another they flash their footwear digging into the ground, kicking mud into my face not on purpose.

Never on purpose.

Always on purpose.

I feel the scent of grass, but not the feeling of air.

My eyes stop on converse. At least I think they are.


I can’t breathe as I feel some curtain pulling up my body, my skin detaching from my skeleton as my eyes go dry.

“Don’t die.”

I’m dying.

It comes to me slowly as I stare into the four year old eye’s wondering from where she came from. It doesn’t stop me.

So what?

I have no memories to go in front of my eyes.

I never forgave my mother.

I never loved my stepfather despite all of his efforts and his love.

I never forgave my girlfriend for that fling she had.

I gave us both detentions pressing her back then.

I feel some sound appear around, muting everything. I sit up, not feeling my body but feeling a tingle of desire upon my lips. I stare at her in front of me, seeing another blurry image.

I’m dying. You’re dying, she says.

She looks older. I think she does. I see her hair black now-shoulder length, a tuque so low that it nearly covers her eyes. I blink. She’s four years old.

“I love you.” I exhale and lean myself forward, nearly dropping my face into the mud, but managing to press a faint kiss upon her lips.

They both, the image of the seventeen year old Roberta and the real four year old fade out, as the annoying screech takes over my body.

Then I collapse, as it goes inside, tearing me apart, lifting me up.


I apologize for the delays, I've been quite busy, since it's my last ever year of school.

Shocking. I guess the thought or the feel is.

It's the last part of Mason and then we'll have the coda. I'll explain everything later.

Chapter 21

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