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Wait, That's Me

Based on a true story (not mine).

By Erica BallPublished 3 years ago 2 min read
Image by Benjamin Balazs from Pixabay

Shuffling through the tall grass feeling with the tips of unfeeling boots hoping to find something but also praying I don't my neck and shoulders have seized from looking down scanning the ground for signs of her blood her clothes her hair

it's cold now and won't be warm until the sun comes up but we won't still be here then we will have found her we must find her she must be so scared and cold

or dead

what happened what could have happened so quickly we had just stopped an hour or so just long enough to take a pee to take some pictures to walk around to disappear I didn't know her no one here knew her not even her name just what she looked like she looked like me she must have been quiet the whole way here

like me

Photo by Maximilien T'Scharner on Unsplash

I get that I sat at the back of the bus and watched the others talk and talk and miss the beauty we passed but I saw it I looked out at the farms the roads and sun-kissed windswept hills they missed I wonder if she missed it and now she's missed and there must be a reason

they say she looked like me but I don't remember her did she sit at the back and watch the window did she watch them did she watch me

in the dark I see her at the back of the bus across the aisle from me looking out the window in a bright pink shirt and headphones and I see her leave the bus and go to the bathroom where she changes her shirt because it's sweaty and she's never been able to put up with that and she gets back on the bus and decides to sit on the other side of the bus so she can see the monument coming up and so she sits where I was sitting when they told us she was missing

and oh god wait that's me it's me I'm the one we're looking for

how can no one know

did they not see me 'til I was gone did they not see me because I'm quiet did they not see me because they did not hear me

was my sole characteristic my pink shirt I stop and I stare and am filled with rage and shame and guilt and exhaustion and I'm cold and they are all tired and see me stop and turn back and

sure now they notice the things you do to be noticed and I turn and I run to tell her it's me they're looking for and I'm not missing I'm here and I'm sorry

and how dare you.


Based on a true story.

Originally published at http://ericamartaball.com on February 28, 2021.

sad poetry

About the Creator

Erica Ball

Trying to turn thoughts into words.


Thanks so much for reading!!

Likes (or tips) not expected but highly appreciated

I also sell things at Comfytown Shop: comfytown.etsy.com

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    Erica BallWritten by Erica Ball

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