7

14: rotted

There was a secret behind her honey brown eyes. Something that hid among the rims of her irises that begged to be found. A fear that acted like a hand around her neck every time she dared to say something about it. I could feel her suffocating as she laid next to be, chained with what she knew... it kept her prisoner.

Even though she lied next to me she was miles away, locked away waiting for the only person that could free her, herself.

"Where are you at?" I ask her as she stares aimlessly out the window as I blow a puff of smoke in the stale air of the apartment.

She says nothing for awhile then parts her lips to speak, keeping her eyes trained on the city bustling below. "Are you ever afraid of what happens after all of this?"

"What do you mean?" I ask sitting next to her and offering her a puff but she keeps still, ignoring me.

"After we die. When we are judged for everything we've done, are you afraid?" She sweeps her eye contact over to me and I see a grievance in her eyes.

"I don't think I believe there is anything after this, I thought everything just ended," I say seeing dark clouds crowd into her eyes. Her jaw tightens and she swallows down knots in her throat.

"That would be easier for me to accept if I believed that. I'm not going to the good place and I'm afraid of what that means." She tells me sinking down into the couch where she leans her head into my chest. Her breathing is rapid and her heartbeat pangs out of her chest as she closes her eyes.

"If I believed in the after life I know you aren't going to the bad place-"

"You don't know what I've done!" She cuts me off sharply in a cold tone that froze me in place. "You don't know what I'm capable of,"

"I don't know because you won't tell me!" I plead with her as she stands up and paces running her fingers through her thick brown hair that has lightened under the summer sun that smothered us with heat.

"Because I fucking can't!" She breaths erratically as I stand up and attempt to comfort her. She pushed me away hiding her tears that spill from her dark eyes. "Stop!" She shouts sighing out.

"Why can't you tell me? What's the worst that can happen? What are you so afraid of?!" I ask getting more aggravated as she takes a swig from the open vodka bottle on the counter to calm her racing nerves. Neither of us should have been having this conversation but we did anyways. We were too intoxicated by a cocktail of substances.

"What am I afraid of? As a kid..." she pauses and bites a bitter laugh. Her demeanor is darker now as she grips the top of the glass bottle, slowly stepping towards me. "They used to call him the boogeyman or the monster under your bed but, he's a lot worse than that. The scariest thing about him is that he doesn't hide under your bed anymore, he's inside of people you love. And worst part is, you never expect him to show up until he's staring you in the fucking face." Her tears stream down her face while she speech loses the steadiness it once had. She stares at me and pokes my chest with the hand gripping the bottle. The liquid sloshes as she pokes me, "so why can't I tell you? Because. I care too much for you to bare my burden, I care for you too much to come face to face with the devil."

My nerves prick my skin as my stomach drops, making a thumping sound. I've never seen her turn so dark, I didn't think she was capable of talking as she did. I step back as she turns away taking another drink and laughing bitterly, manically in a sense.

"Fuck him for all of this!" She curses laughing and slurring other things as she switches on a radio and blasts it. She sloppily moves around the kitchen sways her head to the song that breaks the seering silence of the apartment.