Bulletboy-1st august 2006
Wednesday-1st august 23:00
I’ve run out of clothes again, it seems like even simple tasks like washing have become so complex.
Do you remember the first time we spoke after those five months?
I pulled into college with more eyes on me than I ever wish to have again. Heads turned as I walked up the corridors people parted down the middle and the chatter immediately fizzled into low whispers. It was then I realised that silence had a sound that rings through your ears and sends a shiver down your spine. It’s laughable that just days before I had only dreamed of someone saying my name out loud. A guy called mark I think was the first to step in my path. He put his hand on my shoulder like you see at funerals when someone is apologising for your loss like it’s their fault. “Its Isaac isn’t it?” he stuttered not quite looking me in the eye “you can eat with us today if you like it must be tough you know……………”he trailed of. Something wasn’t right id played that out so many times in my head but that just didn’t feel right. Just after lunch I got pulled out of class by the counsellor. In five minutes what ever I was living for before I arrived that morning d didn’t seem to exist anymore. The words echoed around my head
“Skye”
“Miscarriage”
“Intensive care”
“Accident”
After a while the counsellor left the room brushing her hand against my shoulder saying “if you need some time off I could arrange it”. Some time off? I didn’t have a cold or the chicken pox some time off was not going to take me back six months before all this time off wasn’t going to fix anything. I grabbed my bag slung it over my shoulder and ran. I ran through the school gates past the park past the bus stop. it wasn’t until I got to the end of my street that I stopped for breath hands on knees my tongue was dry and my eyes were filled with tears. I straightened up and started to walk quickly towards the canal I ran down the bank pulling off my shoes .I filled my bag with rocks and put it back on my shoulders knowing I wasn’t a strong swimmer I took a running jump into the middle. The icy water hit me hard and my hair floated in front of my face I relaxed my fists and opened my eyes.
You can cry under water.
I woke up in a hospital bed with nothing more than a head ache apparently a passing fisherman had spotted me and saved my life. I sat up and looked around the room in the far corner was a chair with all my clothes draped over the back. To my left was a cabinet I caught your reflection in the glass, stood in a hospital gown, eyes red and your stomach still swollen like it didn’t want you to forget what you lost. You brushed my hair out of my face and whispered “I love you I just don’t want to hurt you anymore” you kissed me lightly on the lips it tasted sweet and familiar “can you ever forgive me?” I thought about it yes I did love you but all I could thing of is what Dom did to you I wasn’t going to pick up the pieces. “I don’t think so” I croaked my throat tightened but I felt a pressure lift slightly. This wasn’t my problem you weren’t mine Dom was right were from different worlds.
How wrong I was
With this new intelligence I started to think about my life, getting a haircut, a girlfriend or even just a smile that wasn’t a lie.
A couple of hours later my mum arrived faffing around collecting my clothes and commenting in an unnecessary loud voice on how clumsy I was tripping into the canal like that. And I played along with it agreeing with her theory on how I never tie my laces properly. We walked out to the car in silence and I took one last look at the hospital. You were stood in a pale blue nightie by the entrance holding your empty stomach a single silver tear dropped from your cheek and then you were gone. I never got to ask you if I really saw you or if it was my guilt tricking me into taking back what I said. Either way it haunts me to this day
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