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Escape You

A narrative flash fiction

By Willow Rakiah Creager Published 2 years ago 3 min read
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Escape You
Photo by Shelby Deeter on Unsplash

I don't know where to begin. I am speechless on a deep level, terrified to say the truth. But this has never stopped me before. I do not love another. I just want to be alone. I don't know where to begin, if I should, but something fears the silence in me, like a primal instinct driving me from a predator.

Except that predator is you.

I once thought so highly of you, and couldn't process your betrayal once it had begun. I was so blinded by unconditional love that I didn't realize you rejected me yet. That didn't stop my Bipolar 2 from rushing in to mitigate the situation. Mitigate, destroy; how can these words be synonyms? Yet they are, and they were...

I'm tired, so deeply, terribly tired. Let me be, I need to sleep...

As I laid in the corn field overlooking the valley, my throat raw from screaming that left me more questions than answers, there awakened a deep, divine agony in me. I saw how alone I really am.

Later that day, I saw a sea of eyes, ripe and real with judgement. If only I could've shared my pain; I STILL couldn't speak. It wasn't the screaming that took my voice. It would be all it'd take to prove them wrong...

Prove YOU wrong.

The one I thought so highly of, and highly of myself for the first time since I remembered. Suddenly the stretch marks and post-partum-esque belly seemed no object to me, as if it was a simple road map stretching down to the roots of my trauma, and, for once, not leaving me there...

Those decadent nights, the explosion of sparks that shot out from inside and encompassed us both in a rarity of warmth. I would've done anything to satisfy you, even if it left me dying for more...

So many nights, it did that.

Being with you was like falling for a tree branch. Cold, lifeless, needlessly messy. You held me like an object, and used me as one, too. You still believe I'll do anything for you. That's the funniest thing I've ever heard.

I'll do anything to escape you.

Not only you, but the words you found in my silence. I believe I'm the only one who knows who it REALLY reflects. The cowardice it takes to crush a soul so they're first unable speak, then delight oneself in cutting them lower in hopes they'll be forever unable to recover... it takes a special kind of... uh, "man."

As I poured my aching, seeping heart onto the harvested land beneath my fingers, suspended in the gelatinous void of seething agony, you were happily beside the one you loved. Or THOUGHT you loved. The heartbreak hadn't set in yet.

Until it did.

Suddenly, you remembered the way I loved, and how you did nothing to get it. It was nothing short of worship, for free! How great was it, that I was dumb enough to buy it? You just had to show up, then I catered to your luxury, gave all that you desired. You really had me fooled. But your harsh deceit didn't hold a torch to what awaited me in months to come. This is how it's been for every soul who captured your heart.

The punishment for going outweighs the "benefit" of loving in the first place. I wonder if others have caught on?

Since then, you haven't lost your voice, still aching, screaming, writhing as if I landed the first blow, insisting to this day that I'm incapable of change. Just project it onto me, say that I am the monster. Say that I still want you, and laugh at me. It's funny! Not that you needed permission before. I hear you screaming as you did day 1.

It'll take a miracle to stop you.

But baby, it's over. I will marry another, I have LONG since moved on with my life. You'll have to accept it. The fact that you talk shows that I still have your heart. But I don't want it. I want to escape you. Take it back, and give it to your girl! You're disrespecting her. I promise I'll escape you.

breakups
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About the Creator

Willow Rakiah Creager

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