Tendencies

Anonymous

September 19, 2016

The water suddenly looked deep and inviting, beckoning me forward. How easy it would be I thought to just drift away.

I crept into the lake, the sun setting all around me. Slowly my thoughts melted away as if the water was purifying me, tugging here and there at all my heavy thoughts, pulling them out one by one. It was beautiful, how blissful ignorance really was.

“Brea! Mom wants you!”

Grasping my bearings, I said goodbye to the comforting water and the violet cotton candy of a sunset above, thanking them for their comfort. I turned and all my thoughts, suddenly heavier, enveloped me. A storm of heartache rushing in.

As I made my way to our middle-class house I turned back to our secluded little forest. Longing to be back in the murky water.

“Breana,” my mom calls after me, “ you're fathers here.”

The darkness taking over the sky, I make my way through the back door. With my father sitting at our rustic dining table I take in my surroundings. My mother is standing next to him with her arm resting on his shoulder. My parents have been divorced for two years now. I'm kind of glad; they were always fighting when they were together, I would have to take my little brother into the bathroom and sing him My Little Sunshine when things got really bad.

“Hey Brea, how has it been?” My father asks me nervously. We haven't been too close lately. I live with my mom and he moved out of town after the divorce. It's a long story, but we don't really enjoy each other's presence.

“Fine, I guess.” Even my mom knows he doesn't actually care. He never has but I've gotten used to it. They've gone fidgety, I don't know what they are trying to pull but they better get on with it because I don't have the energy for another “we're worried about you” speech.

“Good, good-”

“ Just spit it out dad” I'm done with small talk, he doesn't want to talk any more than I do. He looks relieved but honestly, I don't really care.

“Your father is getting married sweetheart,” my mom interjects. I think it hurt saying that for him.

God, you're such a coward dad

“Do whatever,” I start to leave but stop at the stairs that ascend from the dining area, turning my shoulder but not turning back to look at them.

“Just don't expect me to go. Not after last time” I make my way upstairs trying to block out the sound of my dad stammering and yelling my name. I grasp the stair rail halting in my place. Suddenly, I’m back in the dark place that was my life when I lived with my dad. I can't breathe. He’s screaming at me but I can't hear what he's saying, however, it sounds like I screwed something up (which happened regularly). Everything is slow and foggy and his beer is spilling out onto the floor from his rapid movement. I'm in our old two-bedroom apartment and he starts reaching for me, pulling back I head for the door. He yells my name once more but I push myself through the raggedy threshold. It's dark.

*soft crying*

“Breanna sweety, are you awake?” It's my mom and I can tell the memory is over. The smell of dense chemicals floods my nose. It's cold and my fingers feel too numb for October. My eyes start to flutter open like a butterfly post-cocoon. I can soon realize I’m in a hospital room and light floods through the thin sheets for curtains.

“Mom?” my voice cracks. She gives me a soft smile and I look around to see my father in the corner chair. I shift trying to get up which gives my mom an unsettling look. She lays her hand on my goosebump-infested arm trying to provide comfort.

“The doctor said you passed out, but they aren't sure exactly why. How do you feel?”

I cringe because I know exactly what brought it on.

“I’m fine let's just go home mom, please?” After checking in with the doctor she takes me home.

Everything feels numb like I’m not really here and I just can't see it ever ending. It hurts. I’m out on the back porch of my mom's house. My dad left and I didn't want to say goodbye. In fact, I hope he doesn't come back. I know that's cruel of me but I just can't help the feeling of relief in his absence.

I can't help but wonder what I would do with my life if I could start over. It's Senior year for me and I didn't even do anything worth words. Would I still be sick? Would my dad still haunt me in my dreams? I don't even seem to care, which is odd. I always seem to overthink things. But in this time of dire, I can't think of anything holding me back as I walk into the water. The soft sway of the water tickling my skin. Nobody is here to beckon me out.

Nothing holding me back.

I feel a sense of warmth, purpose even, as the water rises around my torso.

Nothing holding me back.

My troubles melt and bend around me as the water envelops my neck. All that's left, it seems, is me. Raw and untouched I don't hesitate as the water goes over my head and yet I continue walking. Walking until I can no longer walk. My head is foggy and for that I am thankful. I can no longer see the sun above as my vision clouds.

I’m ready. My outstretched arms tangle in the flora of our lake as I peacefully give in.

“Brea?! Brea where are you?” My dear mother's voice is cloudy but slightly coherent beneath the water. I feel the ripples of moving water around me but it's slight. What must be my mother's arms enclose around mine but it's too late.

The light around me is gone and the darkness has flooded my mind and for once I feel safe. The numbness has crept throughout the rest of my body and I don't fight it. Soon all that's left is the bitterness of pungent water filling my mouth.

She tries frantically to help, but the thing is I don't want it. And finally, through all of the chaos I've created,

I let go.