June 2018 Prompt:
"Can I punch him in the face?"
"Can I just break his nose a little?"
June 2018 Word: Scrumdiddlyumptious
The lightning bugs winked flirtatiously by the millions in my back yard. sidling up to each other coyly, before eating the scrumdillyumtious light out of each others eyes.
I grinned, leaning back on the porch steps.
the moon was just a sliver tonight, and was rising steadily over the mangled maple in front of me.
two weeks earlier it had covered up a perfect full moon, and instead of moving across the porch, Id hacked half of the tree down so i could see the moon from my favorite spot on the steps.
even though it didn't feel quite the same as usual.
I couldn't believe it had only been a month ago that Pepper had been sitting on the same step, her shoulder pressed against mine, admiring the fireflies for a whole different reason than I was.
It was that same night she had whispered the terrible, tender words, asking me to make an appointment.
It hut my head just thinking about it.
Beautiful, fearless Pepper. She shouldn't have said anything. She should have kept her mouth shut.
And yet, she hadn't been fearless that night. her voice had shook and that told me everything I needed to know.
Pepper loved me, and she wasn't going to take a simple no for an answer.
It was my own fault, I knew. I had let her get to close, but it was no excuse, and something had to be done.
I couldn't afford one more voice trying to tell me what to do.
It had been my parents first, and then the doctors and shrinks.
I believe you become what people say that you are, whether it starts off true or false.
when people don't give you a choice of you you can be, but pile judgment, diagnosis, and names on your head, its only natural that you slowly begin to except it.
they never have me a chance.
but they got what was coming to them.
In the kitchen, i poured myself a gin and tonic with shaking hands, and stood at the sink, clutching the glass.
I could feel myself start to hyperventilate. my chest heaving as my lungs tried and failed to take a breath.
i didn't have Pepper here to help me anymore.
Just like I didn't have Nicole, or Kate, or James.
Just like I didn't have Mom or Dad.
"its not your fault" i told myself. I was right, it wasn't my fault. it was His fault.
He was getting too loud. I could hear him all the way outside, trying to get me to join him.
Marshal, come out.
"Go away! leave me alone!"
I ran into the bathroom and slammed the door. I couldn't hear him from in there.
In the mirror a man with red rimmed eyes looked back at me.
He looked like the rabbit from Alice in Wonderland.
"Not another one" i muttered, ducking so I didn't have to see that face.
I tipped my glass. down the drain went the gin, finding its own wonderland.
I didn't drink. ever.
my focus was much too important to me. I liked to be able to hear the birds in the morning and the crickets at night.
the scratch of pencil on paper and pages turning and the skittering of mice in the walls.
i liked to count my heartbeats and the droplets of water when i had the faucet running.
it kept me distracted.
kept me from hearing His voice.
I remember once in school we had an argument in front of a kid who had pushed me off the tire swing.
"Can I punch him?"
"Can i just break his nose a little?"
I had my hands shoved in my jeans pockets, trying desperately to keep Him under control.
The kids jaw dropped, and then he got almost a pitying look on his face, which made me madder than his bullying, and then i did break his nose.
They called it multiple personality disorder, and at first, i believed them.
Believed it was just condition of sorts that could be treated with a pill.
But then it got really bad and I couldn't tell which one of us was real.
Its a terrible feeling when you believe your only a figment of your own imagination.
I'm smarter now. I know I'm in my right mind when I'm in my mind and He's not.
I know I've got to devise a plan, to get rid of Him.
even if I have to become the very thing I hate to do it.
There is another voice, a voice I trust, telling me that maybe if I'm silent, He will be silenced.
There are two men in my house, but there might as well be twenty, with all the loud tension in the air.
It is an unspoken argument and it is driving me to distraction.
I stand inside the bedroom door, feet firmly planted in the plush carpet.
A knife from the kitchen is clutched in my hand.
This quarrel must stop.
One of them must go.
I will kill whoever comes to bed first.