Natolie Webb

Hide and Seek

The boy sat trembling in the bushes, the cold from the frozen ground seeping though his jeans and numbing his legs. He shouldn’t have agreed to play but he didn’t want to lose face in front of the older kids. He wondered desperately of they were even looking for him or if the whole thing had been a prank. He checked his watch, cupping his hand over the face to hide the light. 7:15. He had already been sitting there for five minutes. If they hadn’t found him by 7:25 he would leave and go home. It wasn’t that good of a hiding place…

The wind picked up slightly, rattling the few leaves which still clung desperately to their branches. The darkness was all-encompassing and complete in the way a summer night never quite achieved. It fed his imagination… The wind, the darkness, the absence of human contact… It was like the world expanded around him, allowing him to feel the vastness of the universe and the terror of the unknown.

A coyote cried in the distance. The boy shuddered. He checked his watch. 7:18. He wished more than three minutes had passed. He began to run the lyrics of his favorite song through his head. When he reached the end he checked his watch again. Still 7:18. He shifted uncomfortably on the cold ground.

The coyote howled again. Was it closer? Maybe he wasn’t safe right here. Where were the other kids? Why couldn’t he hear them? 7:19. It was like waiting for the last bell on Friday.

A noise to his left sounded like a twig snapping. Was someone walking there? His heart sped up.

“Please find me,” he begged silently, “I don’t want to sit here anymore.”

But no one came out of the darkness to tag him and no more sounds of life reached his ears. The coyote sounded still closer. 7:20. He was only giving them two more minutes. Maybe three…

“Aaaaaaaaawwwwwooooooooooo!” This time it was right behind him. The boy jumped so high he landed on his feet… But he didn’t run. He grabbed a stick and swinging it wildly, he turned to face his adversary.

As he turned, he saw three teenage boys, with eyes as wide as saucers. The arc of his arm stopped just in time but he remained in his stance, holding the stick inches from the other boy’s temple.

“What the fuck!” the teenager yelled, “are you trying to kill me?”

“No! I just… Why did you sneak up on me?”

“We were trying to scare you!”

“Why? I thought you wanted to play hide and seek.”

“We did…”

“No. You were setting me up.”

The older boy spat on the ground, “Fuck this kid,” he turned and walked away, his cronies following closely.

He watched them go, his racing heart chasing the cold from his limbs. He was surprised to find in himself a complete lack of disappointment. He felt only the relief of a lost burden. He headed home, whistling into the wind, no longer wary of the dark, cold night.

Boundaries

Source (picture of women sitting together and talking)

“I still become easily confused when a man tells me who I am… even after all this time.”

“I would counter that that’s normal after suffering years of abuse and perhaps you are being too hard on yourself.”

I felt my eyes roll. Why did therapists have to be so fucking reasonable about everything? She had seen my reaction. I was certain because she was always watching my nonverbals, but she sat regarding me silently… Waiting for the admission she knew would come…

I gave in easily, “Fine. Ok. But I don’t want to still be affected.”

“Oh. Well in that case, I’ll write you a prescription.”

“Yeah. Thanks,” I waited a beat, “I can be sarcastic too, you know.”

“Noted. Let’s get back on track, though. Do you need to take stock so you can remember who you are?”

“No.”

“Ok. What then? What are you feeling about being gaslighted by some man.”

“I’m fucking angry.”

“Good. And did you tell him?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. Habit, I guess?”

“Do you want to change that habit?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“I’m going to tell him he doesn’t define me and if he tries to again he can’t be in my life.”

“Good! That’s called making a boundary!”

“Yeah. It is. I’m allowed to make boundaries and do what’s best for me. For a smartass you’re pretty helpful.”

She smiled, “Well, I did spend all that time in college…”

The Dress

Source (picture of a young girl appearing sad)

Her dress was torn in three places when he finished but it was nothing compared to her heart. Still, she dwelled on the dress… It now hung forlornly over the chair in the corner of her bedroom, a monument to her former naivete.

A regretful nostalgia washed over her as she stared at it, her thoughts pulled with a force like gravity to the day she had chosen it. Her mom and grandmother… A special shopping trip for a special day. Her first prom. They were so excited for her.

She had found the perfect dress… The perfect boy… They made the perfect plans. She mourned the happiness of anticipation. Mourned for the girl she once was…

Later, she would find anger. Later, she would know fear. Later, she would wish for retribution… Later, she might even find strength.

But today… She just wanted it to have never happened. Today, all she could do was hide and cry. Today, she would pretend to be normal so her family would never know.

She put on a brave smile and went downstairs for dinner.

The Love I Knew

Source (picture of hands holding one presenting female, the other presenting male)

We met in the windswept corners of my mind. It was there we kissed for the first time, confessed our feelings for the first time, made love for the first time and yet… We had barely talked.

By the time we went on our first date, we had already lived a lifetime of memories. We laughed, loved and grew old together and yet… We were just getting to know each other.

You drove us to the movie. The drive-in, one of the last of its kind. As first dates go it was pretty good and yet… You were different from the lover I somehow already knew.

You were perfect. And you were flawed. I was the same perfectly, imperfect. You weren’t who I thought and yet… I fell in love.

The Meltdown

Source (picture of a person with head in hands, appearing stressed)

He sank to the floor in doorway, watching his wife, helplessly. She was curled into the fetal position, laying in the bathtub, sobbing. He would have approached her but she was beyond such gestures. He knew from long experience… All he could do was wait and watch. He wouldn’t intervene unless she tried to hurt herself.

When the crying subsided, it was safe to approach. “Do you want to get up yet?”

“Not yet,” She sniffled.

“Ok. I’ll wait… Do you want to talk about it?”

“I just… I can’t ever be enough. I can’t be pretty and nice and make you happy all the time. I can’t do everything because I break.”

“Oh, Love. When will you learn? You are enough. I love you exactly the way you are.”

Her look told him she was trying to believe him but he also knew she couldn’t. Not all the way. She had been told the opposite too many times and far too forcefully in her life before him… But she reached out a hand and let him help her up.

It was all he could ask for…

The Call

The call came in the wee hours of the morning. It always did. It was almost a ritual… An alcohol fueled confession followed by months of complete silence.

He often wondered if the calls were even remembered in the morning. There was a time when he would desperately try to call back but no one ever answered. He was ghosted every time.

“Hello?” he never considered not answering. He had loved the caller his whole life.

“Jim?” The voice cracked, “Are you there? I need you.”

“I know. I’m here.”

“I’m still into you. It hasn’t changed… I just… I never told you I was in love with you. I never let myself. I was too afraid.”

“No, Darling. You told me. You’ve told me so many times.”

“I went out tonight… With a girl… It just never feels right, though. I want it to feel right, Jim. Why can’t I just be normal?”

“You are normal.”

“I just keep thinking of you… What we had… What we did… I should have told you I loved you.”

“Let me come get you…” this never worked but he always tried. As usual, the only answer was ragged, drunken breathing, “Brent… Are you still there?”

“Yes,” it was barely a whisper.

“Let me come get you.”

“I… But… Oh God! Jim, why, why, why?”

“Why be ashamed? The world is changing. Let me come get you. It will be ok. We can be together. It’s not even illegal anymore.”

“But… My dad. The church… I don’t want to go to hell,” his voice had trailed to less than a whisper.

“Your dad is wrong. His sermons are full of hate. You used to know that. You can choose your own beliefs, your own life. Let me come get you. Tell me where you are. You can trust me. I love you. I’ve always loved you.” He held his breath. The conversation had never gone this far.

“The girl. The one I went out with. We’re supposed to get married next week. I don’t love her.”

“I’ll come pick you up. We can talk.”

“I can’t do… The things… I can’t… I can’t do them with you.”

“Ok. We’ll just talk. We’ll figure out what to do. I promise.”

“Ok.”

“Ok?”

“Come get me. I’m at the payphone below your apartment…”

Jim leapt out of bed and looked out the window. His heart skipped a beat. “Stay there. I’m coming to let you in…”

Say Nice Things About Me

Source: (picture of a couple sitting in a bench appearing annoyed with one another)

“Is it hard loving me?” she asked solemnly, looking up into his face without breaking their embrace.

“A little,” he answered, truthfully.

“You’re supposed to say no. How are you so bad at this?”

“You said I should be honest all the time.”

She pulled away from him, “Ugh. Ok. Well, for the record it’s only hard because you say dumb shit all the time. If you didn’t I would be easier to get along with.”

“So, I should lie?”

“No. Just love me more.”

“What? I already love you… Like you know… The maximum amount. “

“Fine. Then, love me harder.”

“What does that even mean?”

“You should already know…”

“What? No.”

“Well, then you’re just going to have to put up with me.”

“I already do that.”

“Oh. So now you’re just putting up with me?”

“I’m going to go for a walk.”

“Fine!”

They glared across the kitchen at each other for a moment…

“Do you want to go with me, then?” He asked.

“Yeah. I do.”

She took his hand as they left the house. “Do I look fat?”

“Uh…”

Little Things

Source (picture of twins in a red wagon)

She was such a light sleeper, she would wake up as soon as their little feet hit the floor in the morning. It wouldn’t have mattered, though. The twins always headed straight to her bed first thing. Maya loved her morning cuddles and Millie… Well, she cuddled for a minute or so and then she raced around the bedroom, trying to get into everything.

She heard them coming this morning. They weren’t quiet about it. Their little giggles made her heart glad. She kept her eyes closed, pretending to sleep. They took such joy in waking her.

Soon, she felt a little hand on her face. It had to be sweet Maya. Millie would have been a little more forceful. Sure enough, a second later she felt a little finger on her eyelid attempting to pry it open.

“Be gentle Millie,” the mother murmured, “Mama needs her eyes and your fingers can hurt.”

“Sorry, Mama,” a little voice answered, “Wake up, Wake up.” She sang.

Maya was attempting to climb up and the mother reached out and scooped her into bed, cuddling her close and tickling her little belly. She giggled sweetly and kicked her little legs. Millie had already begun trying to climb the dresser.

“Millie, stop climbing. Hand Mama her slippers and I’ll make us some breakfast.”

“Ok. Mama.” She picked up the slippers obediently and brought them to the bed.

“Are you ready to eat?” the mother asked, sliding her feet into her slippers and picking up one of her little babies in each arm.

They showered her with little kisses before she put them back down and walked with them towards the kitchen. Her perfect little girls, she thought with a sigh. She hoped she would remember each precious little thing they did forever.

Heartbreaker

Searing pain ripped through her, and faces swum before her. The pain was so intense. She couldn’t remember where she was, what she was doing or even who she was. All she knew was the pain and it carried her away on a wave.

She blacked out and awoke again struggling to breathe. Paramedics stood over her now. “You’re having a heart attack. We’ve given you something for the pain. We’re almost at the hospital. Hang in there.”

At the hospital, they whisked her to the Cath Lab to stent the vessels in her heart. When she awoke, he was there, tears in his eyes, holding her hand. She blinked at him, bleary eyed and went back to sleep.

Again, when she awoke he was there. More aware this time, she pulled her hand from him, “Why are you here?”

“I thought I’d lost you.” He sobbed loudly, which she thought was unfair of him.

“You did lose me.” She rolled away from him, preferring to stare at the blank wall. Her heart was beating better than it had in a long time but somehow she felt like it was dead.

“Kendra, please…” She didn’t respond, “I’m not asking you to forgive me. I just want you to know how sorry I am… How much I love you. I thought I had broken your heart and was going to lose you forever. It was… Oh, God,” he sobbed, “it was the worst feeling of my life.”

“You didn’t break my heart. You tore it to shreds.”

“I know,” he choked out, “and I want to make it up to you. I never want to hurt you that way again.”

She continued to stare at the wall, tears flowing freely down her face. She knew what she wanted but she loved her self enough to be cautious. She would never let him hurt her like that again.

“I don’t forgive you.”

“I know. I understand.”

“Yet.”

“Yet?”

She turned back to him, taking his hand. “I’m glad you’re here. Prove to me that you’re worthwhile and maybe I’ll let you apologize again someday.”

“I will. I promise.”

Sober

Source (picture of someone passed out with a liquor bottle)

Whenever the memories threatened to arise, he suppressed them with a fierce desperation and a whole lot of alcohol. But now… The house was dry. He had checked all of his secret hiding places… Empty. Worse still, it was Sunday. He was out of options for a few hours.

Hands shaking, mind racing, he paced back and forth until the walls threatened to close in on him. He put on his coat and left the apartment, without bothering to change out of yesterday’s clothes. He strode across the porch and down the front steps and then his feet hit the sidewalk and everything went blank.

The first thing he noticed when he regained consciousness was that his shaking had stopped. In fact, he felt calm, peaceful even… And then he saw her. She stepped out of nothing to become something and stood before him beautiful and terrifying.

He cowered before her but when she spoke he felt only her love, “I was watching you. You’ve made a mess of things.”

“I know,” he attempted but failed to choke back a sob, “I couldn’t live with what I did to you.”

“And before that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Before you killed me driving drunk… What was your reason for being out of control?”

“I couldn’t live with myself. I was afraid I would end up like my parents.”

“It was only through avoidance that you did end up like them.”

He sobbed harder, expecting her wrath but she didn’t condemn him. She bent to comfort him. Eventually, after a very long time, his tears subsided. He looked up at her questioningly, “Am I dead?”

“No. Not yet. Do you wish you were?”

“I don’t want to go back. It’s too painful.”

“You can’t stay.”

He sobbed again, “Please. Don’t make me go back.”

“It’s not up to me. You have to complete your life’s work.”

“No. No no no no no…”

“Peter,” she bent closer to him taking his face in her hands and turning it gently so his eyes met hers. The peaceful feeling instantly returned and he felt fortified. “You have to go back and you have to get help. You have to learn to live with the past. You can do this. It’s your purpose. You will understand when the time is right. This is what I was sent to tell you.”

He blinked up at her. Somehow he knew she was right. He took a deep breath and spoke, “Ok,” it was all he needed to say.

“You won’t remember this consciously but you’ll make the right choices now. I’m sure of it.” She leaned in and kissed him deeply…

He regained consciousness in the back of an ambulance. “What happened?” he asked weakly.

“You fell, Mate. We’re talking you to the hospital.”

“I’m an alcoholic… I need help. Please tell them I said so…” His message delivered, he drifted back to blissful unconsciousness for a little while longer, knowing things were about to change.