chapter one • december storm

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Moonrocks & Shadowdancing

"Love with every stranger, the stranger the better." - Hozier

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I want to start this with a preface. I need to explain myself. I need to recollect.

I know I've never been the most innocent person and I know I'm the only one accountable for my actions; I know that there are main things that are installed into every kid's head growing up that they should follow into adulthood - like looking both ways before you cross the street, or not trusting any person that is a stranger to you. Females especially are taught from a very early age that men can be predators to us, and that men can be dangerous.

My mother taught me all of this. I didn't fail my life because I didn't have a good parent to learn from. She is an astounding person who lives good, honest life. I was the one who ruined it for myself, along with the help of a stranger on the side of the road.

When we're at our lowest, we tend to make poor decisions that at the time seem okay. We have a lack of self care and common sense.

All I knew was, on the night of December 11th, I was the loneliness I'd ever been in my life. For weeks I'd been crying and spending every evening alone in my little apartment that seemed to get smaller every night; suffocating me even in my sleep. I went on late night drives when I was kept up at night by my constant thoughts. It was the highlight of my life at the time, to just smoke a joint in the car while listening to my favorite songs. I was my own best friend. I tried to be at least.

I was becoming sick of myself after a while, and I could no longer stand to be left alone with my thoughts everyday. Nice people at my work would take care of me the best they could, but my insecurities always got the best of me, and no matter how sweet the words they said to me were, I couldn't believe them. My head - my irrational feelings - stepped in front of every compliment they gave to me and smacked it into the ground. No way could anyone mean that I was a good person. Good people have good lives full of other good people to spend it with. I was entirely alone.

Think about how easy it'd be, the familiar voice said to me. To just speed up and drive into something to end it all.

It would be easy. All my loneliness and depression wouldn't exist if I didn't exist. I could escape my problems in this world by just one quick decision. I couldn't wreck into another car and kill an innocent person; I don't want someone else's life ruined because of my selfishness.

That reminded me of all the times my parents said they couldn't ever handle burying one of their children. They always made it a point to remind me and my sisters that they never wanted one of us to die before them. I couldn't pass this pain onto them.

Sad, frustrated, and pissed off at my world, I gripped onto the steering wheel as the tears began to fall. If I couldn't kill myself, I wanted a purpose. Give me a purpose. Show me my reason.

I was weeping in my car as I turned onto a back road and left town. I didn't want to drive this way; I didn't want to return to the place that made me so miserable, but my gas light was about to come on and all the gas stations were closed. I'd have to wait until tomorrow, and I couldn't just run my tank out. I hated my fate.

Thunder rolled across the sky and dragged along big, dark clouds with it. Winters in Ohio were unpredictable and bipolar. It could be snowing one day, and three days later it could be sixty degrees and raining. I watched in amazement as the lightning began to spark up the deep indigo, turning it into an icy shade of cobalt. No matter how messy my life may become, the sky will always lift my heart, telling me in it's own way, "It'll be okay, child."

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