Her Motorcycle (Part 2, page 1 of 3)


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Part 2

Chapter 2: Her Death Wish

It’s 2:00 A.M on a school night when I push the screen out of my window and sneak out. I’ve usually been a good child, never sneaking around or breaking the rules. I always did what I was told, but now? I can’t get her voice out of my head.

“No…” She had said. That one word rings in my head. It rings as loud as a church bell in a bell tower that you have been trapped in. It rings louder than anything you could ever imagine. It hurts my head to think about. She didn’t want to live. She had a death wish.

After my feet hit the ground I run. I know exactly where I’m going, the playground. My feet echo of the ground like a scream in a cave that mocks you, telling you you’re so loud but no one can hear you.

10 minutes later I arrive at the playground and climb to the top of the slide. I recall our entire conversation.

“My happiness is as hollow as a pin pricked egg.” She had said.

I know I’ve heard that before. I’ve heard that somewhere. I pound on my head trying to remember but it never comes to me.

So I pull out my phone.

I don’t even know if this is still her number, but it’s worth a try.

Hey I type but quickly erase it. Hi, but that fails too. I go through so many statements to try. Hey,Hi,Hello,Hai,and Sup. None of those are good enough though.

After 2 minutes of staring at my phone I finally send a message

“My happiness is as hollow as a pin pricked egg, Where is that from?”

She replies almost immediately “Explaining my depression to my mother.”

She then send me all the words to it.

“Explaining my depression to my mother: a conversation

Mom, my depression is a shapeshifter

One day it's as small as a firefly in the palm of a bear

The next it's the bear

On those days I play dead until the bear leaves me alone

I call the bad days "the Dark Days"

Mom says, "try lighting candles"

But when I see a candle, I see the flesh of a church

The flicker of a flame

Sparks of a memory younger than noon

I am standing beside her open casket

It is the moment I learn every person I ever come to know will someday die

Besides Mom, I'm not afraid of the dark, perhaps that's part of the problem

Mom says, "I thought the problem was that you can't get out of bed"

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