Dear Agony,

I stared into the mirror. I looked away and rubbed my eyes. And looked back. I looked away and cried. And looked back. But the girl that I thought I had lost...was back. Her gaze froze me to the core of my bones. What had brought her back, one might wonder. Maybe it was the slow trickle of blood streaming down my leg. The agonizing pain, of which I now knew would only worsen throughout the years. Decades. My lifetime.
Maybe it was the sudden slap of reality. That my brother was going off to the marines, and I had no idea when I would see him again. But I could so clearly remember last time I saw him. I remember a man walking over to hug me. Dressed in black, as was the rest of the crowd. He told me it was okay to cry. And only after he had walked away, did I realize that that man was my brother.
Maybe it was the pain of the absence of my father. Who has now been but a small speck of my life for four months now. Who keeps calling every couple of weeks to drone on about how much he misses me. I know how this works. Guilt me into another visit. Just so he can sleep and leave me to my agony.
Maybe it's that I have no one but a once a week therapist to talk to. And besides her, my life stays bottled up deep inside me. And it's times like these, where the bottle bursts.
Times like these where the tight grip of the screaming music, which would be so peaceful any other day, had no aide to my collapsing soul. All I could do was shiver in the blow of an old window fan. If I were to turn it down, or worse, off completely, the fire that has been ignited from deep inside my gut, would flare up again. And I was in no mood to be bothered with a forest fire inside my stomach.
From another world, somewhere far away, just out of reach, I could smell burning wood. A soft smell drifting from the porch to my window. Caught in the blades of a fan, and thrust towards me. I had the urge to limp in it's direction. With a bag of marshmallows griped tight in my sweaty palms. Like old times. I pictured a little girl trotting through the house, bouncing with joy. I pictured my former self.
Then I was swiftly brought back to my world. Where I confined to the floor, writhing in pain. Wishing there was a magical button I could press to end this anguish swiftly, with ease, cleanly.
But like a friend, that was not so little as a friend in my mind, told me, wishes never come true.

Curse.

I looked at the sleek blade in my hand. Had I really dropped so low to this? To this criminal act? I wish I could turn back the clock. Back all the way. But it doesn't work like that. Never has, never will. So this is how I cope? Isn't there some other way? I sat there, in the middle of my carpet, staring at my hands. Staring at the sliver of silver. Begging. Laughing. At my agony. I started to put it down. Ever so gently, I wouldn't want to...wait...I have no idea why I'm being careful. But I might as well. Then, at the worse possible time, my arm jerked. Far away from my body. Sometimes I wondered how it was possible for such a move to be achieved in so little time. I screamed out, part in fear, and part is sheer vain. I plunged the sliver of blade into the arm that jerked. Maybe if I cut it up enough it'll all stop. Or something like that. I gathered up the courage to look down at my arm. I had decided to do this today. Without reason, I figured this would be easier than reality. And I was right. As I watched the blood dripping onto my other hand, just below, I couldn't help but smile. This was a whole new kind of pain. The pain that you can't get by falling off you bike, or cutting your finger from chopping peppers. No. this is such an intensely beautiful pain. I didn't dare put my weapon on my spotless carpet. I gathered myself and hurried to the bathroom. All the time staring at my arm. It didn't look like mine anymore. Unattached to this body. You lucky arm... I dropped the demon I was carrying in the sink and let the water flow over it. I never realized how much of a gorgeous color blood is. Mixed with water, spinning down a drain, like a piece of art. I put my arm in the water and let it soothe away the guilt. The pain, no I wanted that for myself. But the guilt, that I could happily live without. After the blood was gone, you could barely tell that the skin was broken. I grabbed a bandage out of the overhead cabinet. As I did so I caught a glimpse of my grinning face and couldn't help but grimace. How could I be so sick that this was the one thing that gave me joy? There was reality hitting me again. I grimaced. I slapped the bandage on with out a wrinkle in my stone face. I stood looking in the mirror until my arm jerked. I sighed and went back into my room. My little demon had done its job. Now it is my turn to let out the grief, guilt, pain. I sat down on my floor, in the same spot as before. I hummed a couple of lines to "Mama", then screamed. Cried. All of the above. Then everything was out. Now I just wait, for another low to come. Another phase of the curse.

Jumps

Here I am. Finally at the top. My legs burned and roared. And my heart was thumping out of my chest. My palms were dripping in sweat. I steadied myself on top of the thick wire. I put my arms out wide and closed my eyes. I let the raging wind blow my hair back the way I came. Towards all the drama and despair. No more.

My foot started to slide on my slick metal. I knew it wouldn't hold me for long. The cars below sped past. Hissing and tearing up the road, leaving skid marks in their trail. For a split second I thought that that I had made a mistake, and I shouldn't do this. I took a deep breath and went over my options. 1. Go back to school and face Mario and his obsessive behavior. 2. Not do this and run away and live in Luna’s apartment with her and chase as my illegal guardians. 3. Do it.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I hadn’t even realized I brought it. I took it out. New txt from: Mario. I screamed at the top of my lungs. Birds in trees far away back on the road flew away. I grabbed my phone and threw it as hard as I could into the waters below.

I started to sob. My body shook. And I was now slipping down the twisted metal of the bridge. My legs jerked from under me and my right leg fell off my perch.

I screamed. Again. Now I could feel my blood rushing through every inch of my body. My fingers pulsed with to urge to...jump. I heard a car door slam 100s of feet below me. I looked down, not even the slightest bit nervous of the extensive height that I was at. It was his car. It’s now or never, I thought. I slowly stood up on the thick wire. I wanted to drown in the water. So maybe they wouldn't find my body. I leaned forward. Then, of all things, I smiled. It was a crazy smile. Not the kind of smile that people give to those who they care for.

"Happiness..." I whispered. That's all it was, a whisper. No one could possibly hear it. But I'm glad. They wouldn't have understood even if they did. I watched Mario put his hand out, like he could stop me now.

That was the last thing that the girl said. Then she plummeted into the deep, cold, water. She hit the water like it was a brick wall. The boy saw her body crumple. He was close enough to see that he was powerless. He had never cried before. Not when his mother had hit him. Not when his brother got shot. Not when his house burned down. Now he cried. Now he didn’t hold back. He yelled and clawed at the cement as his father held him back. His fingers were gushing blood and he had bitten his tongue and now it was bleeding too.

And the voice whispered to her "don’t let me down love". The arms never let go. And the voice never faded. And the girl and her arms, wrapped tight around her, and her voice, whispering sweet secrets, sunk to the bottom of the lake.

Store

I tagged along happily through the clothes store. I wasn't very sure of exactly where I was, but I didn't really need to know. It wouldn't make a difference.

All of the clothes seemed to have an odd piece of plastic on them, I was afraid to touch it, for there were warnings labeled over the top. It was almost the color of my skin, a little bit darker. From dirt and just that my skin was so pale.

I looked down at my mother’s feet. That was my way of following her. I didn't need to strain my neck to try to see her head. I played games where I tried to get as close to her feet as I could without stepping on them. On the rare occasion that I did, she would look back with a slight smile on her face and I would giggle into my overly large winter coat. I kept my hands straight out next to me as we walked along the rows and rows of unfamiliar apparel. Most of it was dark shades of blue, purple, or black. I always liked to feel the clothes. It was my way of seeing them. I tried not to rely on my sight as much as I could, because I knew it could fail all too easily. The many items were much more interesting to feel than to look at anyway. My mother stopped and I bumped into her back, to engrossed in my thoughts to notice that she stopped before it was too late. I craned my neck to see the reason for the hold up. She had taken a lucky pair of pants from their tightly packed group.

"What do you think?" she asked. She always asked me for my opinion. Whether I thought it was ugly or not, I always nodded my head and smiled. She smiled back and added it to her arm.

Someone shouted her name and I jumped into her arms. She looked for the voice and greeted a stranger. They talked for a while. I figured it would be a while so I let my mind wander. My feet were starting to strain. I leaned one way to soothe it.

I did that back and forth for a while. I thought about the clothes, and wondered if I were to just slip in them, would they hold me up? I liked to hide in between the darks and grays, but would they be able to take the ease off both my feet at the same time for me? Maybe... I backed into them while my mom was still occupied with her stranger. I felt a strange kind of safe feeling as I went farther, ever so slowly, into the velvety cloths. I closed my eyes and leaned back. I heard silence around me. Then my mom was calling me. Only the slightest bit of hysteria in her voice.

I heard a bang before she did. I knew the clothes would not hold me. Maybe for some other child, but not me. They had betrayed me. I was furious. I heard the sharp ding of my head against cold hard metal seconds before the pain stabbed the back of my head like a dagger. I decided to lie there. Waiting for my mom to take in the situation. I thought about checking to see if there was blood. But I reasoned against it. Secretly, I hoped there was, I hope when my mother pulled me up, I bleed all over the betrayers.

My anger soon melted into disappointment. I cried. I screamed. With the hurt mentally and physicality jabbing into me. I wanted to just be numb. All around. I wanted my brain to be as if I were asleep. Soothing the worries away. But that wouldn't happen. No one would let me sleep. My head was bleeding, but not as much as I hoped. My mom talked to partially me, but mostly herself, saying it was going to be okay. I was fine. I had gotten one of my wishes, I was numb. Not completely, but mostly. And that was good enough.