The Insurgence: Bleeding Silver

Burying An Empty Casket

           October 1st

I wonder when I grew up, or if standing in front of the mirror looking at my body means I'm suddenly an adult. Adults look the way I do, so why does it feel wrong? I don't feel any different. And I certainly don't live like an adult, the ones in movies had cars and would sneak off to friends houses or would go to work and complain about their money— all I had going for me was being in high school... And I definitely didn't imagine myself being that oddball character in all the movies.

           I'm now aware of how tall I am, how I've matured. Mother and father never updated my wardrobe and in a way it helped me ignore how much I've visibly grown. When you're confined to the same four walls and big shirts, you miss how much you physically grow— it's not like you're truly moving forward. The only thing in my closet that was suitable for a funeral was a black dress from elementary school with rhinestones and glittery circular patterns all over the skirt while the top was a velvet black. It was too tight around my torso and stopped a little under halfway down my thighs. It pushed my chest upwards and, as if to mock me, was tied in the back with a large black bow. But its all I have and I have to go, no matter what the town says about me.

If only I could explain to the town that I had no backup option for the funeral, except I knew that would only hurt my parents' reputations. I wish I could explain the amount of care I put in to just get this out of my closet. I hate going in my closet. Every time I find myself in there I hold my breath and I count until the moment I walk out. If I could hold my breath and make it out under sixty seconds it was a win.

         As I stare at how ridiculous I am, the thought of what happened that day already on my mind, I see the physical toll it's taken on me. I turn around and nearly gasp at how my scratch from the accident had worsened. My hand arches up my back trying to touch the now festering, oozing black and purple wound. The wound was raised and protruded from my back like a mass with my veins scarily visible surrounding the large injury appearing almost like lightning bolts. They've been ignoring every health issue I've brought up since this accident but this one was so physical and so scary looking that I just couldn't understand how they could dismiss this? The vomiting and migraines I guess you could overlook but this? Did they forget how I'm supposed to look? How do they not see it?

       My eyes are sunken in, with deep purple circles underneath more than likely due to all the nightmares. My skin has lost its golden tint. I feel weak, like if I took too many fast steps I would fall over and snap. I felt like a wilted flower. Honestly I look like a zombie— every time I carefully bring up what's bothering me, I'm responded to with a simple, "Don't fake pain for attention,' and then I apologize and move along. I don't like to get in fights with mother. I wonder what she'd say if she were here to catch me in this dress... the thought makes me shudder. I understand the way they show love but sometimes I just need someone to... I don't know.

         Today is the funeral of one of the only friends I've ever had, the only one I kept since I went into isolation. His name was Sheriff James Calvary, saying all of it out loud made me feel important. He was like a superhero. He was my father's boss at the police station and the way he talked about work always made me giddy; he fed my curiosities because both he and father would never give me any details to what was going on the job. Calvary always made me feel like I existed... and now I'm wearing a dress I wore in elementary school to his memorial, hating this body that suddenly showed up. I'll be the only one there that knows the truth as they put an empty box into the earth.

I'm being pathetic. Today wasn't about me. It could've been me, I'm lucky to be here and he isn't. I have to keep going because he didn't get the chance to, because things could've been worse.