The Middle

The Middle

Her body quivered. You could see it in her eyes, how she longed to be rescued but yet no one was there to save her. I could see it deep in her soul how she almost begged for mercy but all were too blind to see what was happening inside. But I could see it. I could see everything in her, every little detail from the way she bit her cuticles when she didn't have the slightest clue as to how to answer people, to the way she swiped her outgrown bangs from one side of her head to the other then slipped the strands between her chapped lips. I could see the pain in her eyes. How the veins in her eyes created the illusion of constant crying the night before. And though I knew she had cried countless hours, this pain was different. The type of pain you see when someone can no longer hold on. The kind of pain that surges out hoping that someone, just someone will take you by the hand and tell you things how they are. You see, I knew she was done. She was done with all the bullshit and all the lies people fed her. She was done with the way that people everywhere would say, “Everything will be okay” and “Things will get better”. But I could tell how much she HATED those phrases.

            It was evident. All she ever really wished for was him. For him to come back to her and prove to her all those lies that people always said. Deep inside she wished it was all true. To wake up in the morning and be able to wipe away those tears and brush off that frown and go back to how life was. But she knew better. How could someone just vanish like that? As though the earth had just sucked them in and as though they never existed. It was obvious that he would never return. Yet every night and morning she wouldn't let go. No matter how much she just wanted to release and let herself break into shattered grains, she didn't have the slightest strength for it. She knew better, and I could see it in her.

            I observed her every move. She no longer walked with force but rather lingered across campus. Her every step heavier with each stride followed by heavy breathing. Fingers intertwined with the strands of her backpack and her head down, never leaving sight of the concrete. Fear rushed through her body and it was clear how much she feared losing.

            I could hear her. From the corner of my eye I could tell she was with her friend but rather than seem comfortable her gestures signaled otherwise. Then suddenly I heard her voice raise and say, “I’m tired. I hate how people always say that things are going to progress and to look on the bright side because at the end of the day I always get proved wrong. Things don’t get better! They only get worse and the pain only gets more painful. I’m trying to stay up but I just can’t anymore because it hurts too much to know that there isn't anything I can do to change what has happened. I've even prayed to God to bring him back to me but let’s face it, that won’t ever happen”. Her voice shook violently and the tears began to swell up in her small eyes.

            Oh how I longed to save her. All I wanted was to go up to her and comfort her. She didn't deserve this and though she had done wrong before, this was not something that she or anyone else deserved. It killed me to watch her slip further than she had already fallen. I've known her better than anyone else could ever know her. Her fragility hidden deep down by this character she had created to hide away from the world. She was strong. She still is. Probably one of the toughest girls I have ever known but this one change was breaking her in ways I could never imagine. It pained me how I could not do much to save her. “You don’t understand it at all, you can tell me that things get better but you wouldn't understand how it actually feels because you have never experienced it. Losing someone because of death is one thing. It causes grief but you learn to move on because at least you knew what caused that death while I on the other hand know nothing. Is he alive? Is he dead? I DON’T KNOW! That’s what hurts most”. These words stung. I couldn't take it anymore and with that everything changed.

            I looked at myself in the mirror that night. And there she was, the girl with the broken heart. The girl who begged for a savior but never found anything. Pale cheeks, knotted hair and weary eyes stared back at me. It had been weeks since I had last looked at myself in the mirror for I could not manage to look at myself anymore and thoughts rushed by. His little princess, the niece he loved with all his heart and treated as his own daughter. The niece who never stopped telling him how much she loved him, and then it hit me. I could not let this bring me down any longer. It was my turn to stand up and make a difference. I would show everyone how I could learn to leave my anger behind and love life for what it is. To appreciate all that is given and to make it known that that girl who loved her uncle dearly still does, but is better than what she believes to be. That girl can live for her uncle how he would want her to, to love life and keep her head up high. So that is what I’m doing, for him.