GirlSense and NonSense Spring 2015 | Page 29

The flames snickered up higher into the sky. The little girl stood there for a moment, surrounded. Burning books, pictures, furniture, drawings, toys, memories. She didn’t entirely remember how this came to be. But she knew that she had this feeling, that she wanted it to; and that it was her still holding the box full of matches. Staring into the dancing spirals of flames and ash, she forgot what it was that she was supposed to do. Frozen into place as if she was only but a statue.

Then it slapped her, literally. Looking up, an imaginary friend stood over her. This Tall, thin, ghostly silhouette, mouth-less, held her cherished stuffed bunny toy. She grabbed it gently after dropping the matches, feeling parts of its now scorched fur. Of the color pink, the bunny was filled with secrets and missing its own left eye. Holding the bunny at her side, she grabbed her friend’s hand, guiding him and herself out to the exit where the sirens were already wailing.

Walking out into an early morning, she saw fire trucks, police and ambulance. Working hard at their jobs; shocked to see her. But the only thing she noticed was his hand, along with the rest of him, fading into the sunlight. She raised her hand at the sky, like their very own goodbye. A man in red and yellow swooped her up in his arms and ran from her collapsing home straight to medical, sitting her on the end for attention. A woman scanned her for injuries and spoke words of unknown. The little girl looked straight at the woman with an expressionless face.

“I did it.” Then she smiled and giggled, looking at her stuffed bunny, lifting it to her face and hugging it like a very cheerful child. The woman, speechless.

she knew that the bond between her sister and herself would never break. Grabbing the binkie and the engagement ring made her heart pound against her chest. This time she didn’t stop the tears from flowing. Her breakup was a fresh wound, only about a month old. After spending a year and a half with the man she loved and becoming pregnant with her child, she was having a hard time knowing that they had both left her. Never born into the world, the baby she carried died at eight-months-old suddenly with no explanation. Her fiance left her shortly after, not being able to bear the pain of their lost child. Leaving her to grieve alone. Abigail clutched to the small objects as if they were her life force- because they once were. Brief flashes of what could have been clouded her judgement. She could distantly hear the sounds of her child crying for her. A sad smile grew on her face as she pictured her husband, Will, reaching for their daughter and cradling her to his chest. They would have lived in small house with a white picket fence and a Golden Retriever in the backyard. She wanted to get lost in this fantasy world, living it over and over again, but she knew it was only a delusion. Ripping herself away from her imagination, she could taste the salty tears on her lips.

Taking a shaky breath she placed all the items back in the wooden box. “It’s a new year and a new life.” Abigail mumbled to herself as she closed the box up and slowly began to throw the dirt back over it. She thought burying these items could be a memorial or a goodbye to her old self. Of course she would never forget the hard times and the struggles, but she would not let them define herself anymore. Taking her sweet time, she let her fingers dig into the dirt as she sunk her memories in the ground. She could barely see the top of the box anymore. It was nailing boards to her past.

Once the box was covered and the ground only looked slightly altered, Abigail stood and dusted her hands off. Wiping at her eyes and smearing dirt on her cheeks she huffed. Sending a silent prayer upstairs that her sister and daughter watch over her, she walked back down the path and to her bike, ready to start her new life.