Excuses

In a matter of minutes, everything changed. The hallway she knew so well, turned into empty space being looked at for the first time. At that moment, she knew that nothing would be the same. Well it is more than a shame that we lost to this game. All my walking, talking, breathing- nothing will be the same. The green locker and silver handle will always hold the memories of those minutes. With every lift of the handle, those minutes came crashing back, along with the pain, where everything changed. It happened so quickly, yet in slow motion. The five minutes that proved the world to be right. They were too young. He was trouble. She would get hurt. Why did they seem to be right when she tried so hard to prove them wrong?


If only time went in reverse and she could take back those words; words that caused the memory. Or if she had been smart enough to take a step back, be out of reach before she said it. How did she not see this coming? All the things I thought were so easy got harder and harder each day. Naivety would never happen again; he made sure of that, didn't he? After all, he always had the control; before, and long after.


The shirt she wore that day hidden in the back of her dresser with attemtp to be forgotten; it was never forgotten. It has been years since she looked at that shirt, although, it could still be remembered vividly, down to every last fade of color. The evidence of those moments were still on the shirt when she threw it away, ensuring it could never been seen by anyone else; although, when she closed her eyes, there it was.


She never asked if the evidence was still on her back. the answer was too scary to hear. If it was yes, then he was always with her, reminding her of what was. And if the answer was no? Well then she had no excuse. That excuse is all that she has. These excuses, how they served me so well. They've kept me safe, they've kept me stuck. They've kept me locked in my own cell.