Her Broken Confessions

I'm afraid.
I'm afraid.
I'm afraid.

Fear has gone to school with me every year. I don't remember how I met her, but I'll never forget her face. A dark, beautiful being, somehow seeming unaware of her potential. She's the corner dweller, sitting as far away from the Knight as possible because she doesn't want to take it away from the cool kids. And she could take it, too. She just doesn't know that.

Fear paints her nails black and dyes her hair every few months. People don't usually notice when she's gone, but they definitely notice when she's here. She attracts attention unwillingly. It must be the sad eyes that droop around the edges that pierce the soul of the seer, only amplified by her gaze. She's quiet. A delicate fascination.

Fear is smart but she doesn't care about grades. Conversation comes naturally and people are drawn to her. It's effortless. She waits, and people come. People come. They always come.

I came once.
I've come a lot of times.

If I wasn't afraid, I wouldn't be home at midnight. I wouldn't unlock the back door and check in with my parents and go to sleep in spite of obedience. I would stay out and go where I wanted to go with who I wanted to go with. I wouldn't answer my phone when they called. I would be alive, instead of just living.

If I wasn't afraid I would tell half the girls in my grade that there's so much more to life than how much they weigh and what boys they date and how much time it takes them to get ready in the morning. I would tell them that it's not always about them, and I'd probably never talk to them again because I don't care about them any more than they pretend to care about me.

If I wasn't afraid, I would have pressed publish on this when it was actually due.

If I wasn't afraid, I would apologize to him because I was wrong. I took him for granted, and I wish I could take that back. 

And if I wasn't afraid, I wouldn't spend 3 years of my life pretending to be something I wasn't just to be accepted by other people. I wouldn't worry about having to say the right thing, and hang out with the right kids so I could be treated like I was important.

Fear was right. She's the worst friend I'll ever have.

And somehow, I don't think I have it in me to leave her.









-S.C.