To heal is to feel

Throw Up a Lie

The sound of a invisible clock ticking echos through the airy room. There is no awkwardness nor stiffness.

I stare at the woman, Deanna, as she fiddles with a camera on a weird stand that I don't know the name of.

There's a click from the camera and she finally looks down at me. When she does, I switch my eyes to run over her.

I make sure to readjust myself so my gun won't be poking my hip bone too much, making it look like I was anxious to cover it up.

Then I make sure I'm not pressing to hard into my bow, eventually setting it down nicely on my lap.

I notice first how the wrinkles around her face seem older than ricks, telling me she had to be in her early 60's, perhaps already in her 70's.

Her hands have finger bones that poke out of her skin and lines cover them like makeup. But her cheeks flesh color stands out as a pomegranate pink.

This tells me she doesn't know the word starvation.

Her copper hair styled in a short bob. Her right side of her hair tucked behind her ear showing off her diamond studs.

So she still thinks jewelry is important.

"Lanna." She states my name with a stern but soft tone. So she already knows my name, who told?

"There's been a few mentions throughout other interviews that have spoken ... thoughtfully of you. Your name came across easily." She adds, crossing her right leg over her left.

She's right handed.

"What do you want to know." I make sure to keep the sharpness out of my voice, putting on my kind, fake tone.

'It's a tone, not a voice.' Carmen had told me time to time. Remembering her has come easier with the time passing...

I hate it.

"Well," she pauses, her eyes stare curiously into my eyes. I hate that I can't assume why, "why don't we start from the beginning." She leans back into her seat.

This tells me that the interview won't be short.

I nod and rest my arms on my lap, resting my back against the seat I sit in. Letting her think that I have already grown comfortable around her.

"From the beginning." I confirm, making sure the spit I swallow goes unnoticed.

"How'd you end up with the group?" Deanna ask and I am not surprised by the question.

I can tell her the truth, just snips of it though.

"A few weeks into this... world." I curse myself after the moment of hesitation. Think faster , Lanna. Don't mess this up like they know you will.

"You say world, why?" She leans her head forwards, her eyebrows not together. Is she... intrigued by me?

"I don't understand." I admit, tilting my head a little to the side

"Well, you must have been five or six when everything happened. A little girl , seeing the world change so quickly at such a young age. You'd think that you'd hate it like it was a curse from your old life."

She explains what she meant, and I feel like I want to scream.

"It is not so different. I think... I think I hadn't started life till this world came. I think- I know that my 'life before' was the true curse." I admit it out loud for the first time since I've realized it.

I'm sorry , mama. I'm so sorry.

I look up at Deanna after my itchy eyes begin to feel a little bit wet. Just a little bit.