She sat still on the windowsill
Looking down at the street below.
The mother of 4 juggling the groceries,
The mad man singing about getting killed on Friday,
The vagabond trying to sell rattraps to whoever would look him in the eye,
The giggling girls talking about boys they’ve loved before.
She sat there, staring, and speculating.
She was there. And, yet not.
She was thinking about the time gone by.
She was thinking about the days wasted.
She was thinking about the past that flew by her, unnoticed.
She wanted to live again, and not just exist.
She wanted to take it all in, and not just breathe.
She wanted her life back.
She wanted to live.
There is a secret room in our new place. Mommy doesn’t know. It will be mine. That’s so awesome. At 12.
I am gonna bring Danny to my secret hideaway I have been keeping to myself all these years. It will be our little secret. We will party like the older kids. At 17.
Roger and I can go visit my time-out zone and we will talk deeper stuff. He will think I am so mature. He will instantly fall in love with me. At 22.
Mayen. I need to visit my think spot. NOW. I gotta think about it all. I can’t take it anymore. At 22. 2 days later.
I am gonna go sit in there and think about all the pending decisions I have been putting off. I will just go MIA for a few hours. Mom won’t even notice. At 22. 3 days later.
Ugh why do my eyes feel so heavy? And my back is cramped. It’s 3 in the morning!?! Shit. Where did the time go? Where am I? Wait. Have I been in the secret room, sleeping, all this time? Shit. Who’s crying like someone’s dead? Is that mom? I gotta go check. Ow easy, tiger. Cramped muscles suck. Sigh. Now where’s the key? I gotta unlock from the inside. Where are you, stupid key? Ow ow my little toe. Careful, girl. Careful. Deep breath. It must be here. Focus. Why is it so difficult to breathe? Shite. This place is isolated. It’s closed off from all sides. I gotta go out. But where’s the FREAKING KEYYYY!?!?! At 22. 3 days before. Flashback.
In my haste to get in I had left the key right there with my purse,lying in my cupboard. At 22. Present.
I can’t get out. Nobody out there knows I am here. Danny is dead and I never got around to get Roger to discuss deeper stuff. Nobody knows. Nobody. Is my mother crying cuz she can’t find me? Will I never get out? Will I have to spend my whole life here? Why is it so difficult to breathe, dammit? I gotta focus. Crap. Won’t I live long enough to even come up with a plan? These dancing blackspots are so irritating. I am gonna faint. Shit. At 25. Outside world.
The mother is grieving a daughter whose body was never found. She had disappeared in thin air. “Why did she leave? Will I never know.” Sob. Loud gut-wrenching sobs. At 30. Outside world. 7. Yayayay. Our new home has a secret space. Why did the previous owners hide such an awesome detail? Maybe they didn’t know. It will be my little secret. That’s so great.
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