Cracked To the dredges

Chapter 5: My Soul's departure in a Coffin of Shards

        Sometimes I wonder how I will move on with life. In a matter of an hour, alienation has become a growing disease  in my body. No matter how much my former sunny self tries to convince myself to stay at the packhouse and endure, I cannot. Even back when I was getting harrassed, I never felt exactly alone. The warmth, the flickering yet staunch hope that everything would be alright, that irrational sunshine never strayed for a moment.

       Yet, I had been stripped of the fantasy and had landed into the cold hands of logic and reality. I had to leave, I had to survive, I had to progress. Staying here would hinder my progress as a person and professionally. I came to the revelation soon enough that I had to experience the world, expand my likes and passions, meet new people, and blossom, healing through the blemishes at a steady pace, none of which I could accompish here with sneering faces and damaging thoughts.

               I sat on  my bed for one last time, laying back in my haven which had been. Now tainted by bitter, traitorous memories, it was hell. However, I went back to the memories it had held. It had been where I had on a torrid summer's day eaten honey cinnamon buns dribbling with raisins and whipped cream, where I had read atlases traveling in my fantasies to far off places, where I had had epiphanies studying everything and absorbing information, where I had endured injuries in silence holding on to chains of never ending fallacies that someday things would get better, where I had died, burying a cold watery grave for something that had been lost, irrevocably.

                And for once thinking those thoughts, after what felt like a long time, years perhaps though it had only been days, I felt something forming on my face, a smile. One of those tentative smiles, those fragile ones that mothers give to their precious babes before dying, one of those smiles that maidens give to the shepherds who followed them home embedding upon their hands and necks coral, one of those smiles give your first love as you catch his eyes for the first time. The fleeting smile carressed my face and immediately left to be replaced with grief. 

                   I packed my bags, one black and gray suitcase with a gray and purple cotton duffel. I did not have much, the most precious things being a grayish blue pearl necklace of mother's, a rare hand me down that I had kept with me even as a child. It was cold reminding me of the ocean, a soft cry of peace. I also had a locket that father had given me on my first birthday, a gold watch embroidered with silver leaf and a tiny piece of garnet inlayed right in the middle. Lastly, I had a big volume of calculus and physics combined----the insanely jubilant containers of my learning and my mind.

                  After cleaning up my ransacked bed and neatly recleaning the sheets and doing their laundry for the last time, I took my blood shards carefully with gloves and placed them on the cream and black bed sheet in an array with the blood rusted still on it. I cut off a red and white rose that I had picked that morning and lay it in a cross on the shards. The shards were a symbol of my soul, torn apart. The red rose became the passionate anger that roared within and the white a death and harmonized departure wishing for the best. On white paper I wrote with a vermillion pen of hue between cherry and blood, Bye, one withering remainder that I had existed.

                   Bye required no explanation, it was heartfelt and lingering, it was the emotion of death. I wanted them to die to get hurt to exist but not exist in the deluge of what they had done. I would repair myself for no one could repair another but oneself. Knowing full well of my cut connections I turned to leave. I had $14000 which could be used for necessaries and the beginning of a savings account. College was a full ride and since I just had to ride the train to Philly, it wouldn't be long. I would have to find a place to live before college started in a week and change. But why was I murmuring that throughout the walk to the train station when change was always inevitable?