Natolie Webb

When You’re Gone

Source (Picture of a person riding a motorcycle)

I didn’t stop you when you left because I didn’t want to swallow my pride. I was angry and I thought I would be happy when you were gone. I thought I would be better off without you.

So I stood outside smoking while you packed, playing it cool… But I saw you when you rode away on your motorcycle. I watched as you revved the engine angrily and shot off out of sight. It was the last time I saw you but I can’t stop imagining what happened next…

You were hurt and angry when I didn’t try to stop you or go after you. Didn’t you deserve that after I had put you through so much? You had given me your heart and now it shattered to pieces as you drove.

The tears you had been holding back overflowed, suddenly unstoppable. They blurred your vision too much to see what was coming. You never caught so much of a glimpse of the car bearing down on you when you swerved recklessly into the oncoming lane.

I was told you died instantly-your body as badly broken as your heart. I was told you wouldn’t have had time to know what happened. I was told you didn’t suffer…

But I know better. You suffered for years… All the years of mistreatment which led to your death. I made you suffer every single day.

Now you are gone and I wish I was gone too.

The Beginning

She was painfully aware of the ticking clock on the wall behind her. Her time was limited and still, she had yet to say the thing she had come to say. He sat across from her, his eyes as piercing as ever.

“Are you ok?” he asked.

She couldn’t get the words out yet. What should she say? What could she say? Of course she wasn’t ok. She shifted uncomfortably and wished he’d stop looking at her but he continued to stare. He sat with his pen poised over his notebook like he was waiting for her confession but she was sure she wasn’t the one who needed to confess… What she needed-what she really needed-was to put an end to it.

“Kelly…” he prompted, breaking her reverie. He smiled in a way he probably thought was disarming. He wasn’t even a bit nervous. She marveled at his inability to see this coming.

She sighed, shifted in her seat, took a deep breath and looked him in the eye, “We’re done.”

“Oh, Kelly. We’ve been through this and we’ve been making so much progress. Why now?”

“It’s not progress.”

“Of course it is. You’ve done so well.”

“Is that what you call it… ‘doing well?’ You think I’m so fragile, so damaged that you can put any kind of spin on it… But what you’ve been doing… It’s not right. And I’m telling you, I’m done.”

The declaration had taken all of her strength… But still… She managed to stand up, walk across the office, open the door and close it behind her. She was done being taken advantage of. She was done letting him have his way with her. It would take a lot of strength but she was ready to begin again… Or maybe… She was ready to begin for the first time.

Running

She loved running in the quiet of the early morning hours, when the world was still asleep, the silence punctuated sharply by the sound of her feet rhythmically tapping the pavement. The cold air flowing into and out of her lungs purified her, washing away the residue of yet another soulless night. She blew out forcefully, pushing her thoughts toward the day ahead. She was busy, busy, always busy, keeping any thought of death at bay.

Shattered, Repaired, and Shattered Again

Source: (Picture of two men holding each other in dark lighting)

I didn’t think I would see you again, but then you showed up on my patio, through torrential rain, and I invited you into the safety of my house and my arms. You were exhausted, soaked and sobbing. The world had led you to believe you could never be enough and the pain of it lived deep within your bones. My heart broke wide open, with love, for your shattered soul.

I was quickly sodden from the contact of your drenched clothing, as I held your pain, a mirror of my own. Done with conventionality, pretension and pretending, I undressed us both in fevered haste. I was in love and lust and no longer cared who cared. The harshness of a judging world lived outside the safety of our lair.

We would belong to each other from then on until death do us part. The shards of our broken hearts, reformed into a whole, finally large enough to contain all the love and fear and pain. But, now, today, I bury my whole heart and count my final days with anticipation.

Pranks

Source: (picture of emergency sign on building)

Oh revenge was going to be so sweet! She was so tired of Simon’s pranks. She giggled inwardly as she hid in the shadows of the garage waiting for him to disembark from the car. The door opened and he stepped out. She was tense, but ready. She just had to… The world went black.

Her eyes opened to see only darkness, punctuated by passing lights. What was happening? She focused her brain trying to remember but her last memory was planning a surprise prank for her older brother. Had she pulled it off? She couldn’t remember.

It was moment before she focused on her present situation. She was in the backseat of a car, lying on her back. She was wearing a blindfold but there was a small slit where it had slipped over her eyes. Where were they taking her… And who were they?

The car took a series of turns and stopped as the reality of her situation set in and terror welled up, overflowing her body. The door opened and she felt hands pulling her upward. She screamed and screamed and struggled to escape. It was all she could do… She had become a creature of pure instinct.

Her blindfold slipped as her knee made contact with the private parts of her attacker. He screamed, falling to the ground and writhing in pain. She almost turned to run but her brain somehow caught up with the reality before her and she stopped short.

“Simon?” the writhing continued. “Is that you? Oh my God, Simon! What the fuck? I really hurt you!”

“Just… A… Prank…” he managed to gasp. “Need… ER… Oh, God,” he groaned miserably, rolling back and forth on the ground.

One Day Later…

“Testicular torsion is a bitch. I can’t believe I’m a one ball wonder.”

“Did you learn your lesson on the constant pranks, then?”

“Aww. This one just went sideways.”

“You have one ball.”

“Exactly. I still have one ball.”

“So… No then. Cool. Can’t wait to get ‘kidnapped’ again. On the upside, you might still get to qualify for that Darwin Award.”

Spiritual Warrior

Source: (Picture of a female presenting person meditating in a sitting position)

The words he thrust into her, cut deep into skin and sinew, unchanged since childhood. Bleeding and pained she sat, meditating, feeling deep into the trench in her chest. The pain coiled and writhed and gave up its encoded secrets, the lies she was told about the person she was… Someone else’s version of a “girl”… Someone else’s untruths, living deep within her battered, ragged heart.

She breathed more deeply, searching inward, feeling every molecule of the illusion, learning the geography of her pain. Here, it was raw and red and irritated, but over here it was deeply buried in thick knotted scar tissue. The numbness hid a secret, buried deep like shrapnel, waiting for the day it would emerge from depths of bleeding trauma.

But she knew she could face it when it did. Because deep within her core, beyond the pain, beyond the fear, beyond the bullshit, blueprinted into her DNA by the cruelty of this world, she felt something else… Oneness. Love. Strength.

She let it all go.

Dear Humanity

Source: (Picture of a female presenting person blowing snow form her hands)

Dear Humanity,

Thank you for the shitty care, grown of your best intentions.

Thank you for only seeing my worst… Only acknowledging my faults.

Thank you for the neglect, the loneliness, the sadness and self hatred.

Thank you for letting me know how ugly I am, how ignorant my views are, how silly I am for caring about others.

Thank you for abusing me, beating me and raping me… And thank you for pretending I made it up when I tried to talk about it.

Thank you for the reasons to stop giving a fuck what you think. Thank you for the freedom to be me… To tell you to fuck off

Thank you for trying your absolute best, no matter how inadequate.

I want you to know I’m sending love right back… ❤

The End of Bureaucracy

Source: (Picture of a large shelf full of files)

Hal, the office manager was immersed in paperwork when they entered the permit office, still panting from their sprint to get there in time. He glanced up briefly barely taking in their discombobulated appearance before turning back to his paperwork. Miguel approached the counter, flashing his badge, “We need to see the original building plans for the Labelle Hotel.”

Hal took off his glasses and laid them on the desk, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He turned with excruciating slowness to a vertical file tower and reached for a form, placing it in the desk between them.

“You need to fill out a form 6214a and submit it to the clerk.”

“No. You don’t understand. I need to see them now. Do you see the fire raging out there? It’s about to get a lot worse.”

Hal glanced toward the window. The scene beyond it was post-apocalyptic. It had been four days since the terrorists group had taken hold of the city and it was ugly out there. His face remained impassive, “Form 6214a,” he indicated the paper on the desk, “the clerk’s office is around the corner.”

“Are you fucking mad?”

“Miguel,” Mali pulled him back gently, “I think he is mad. Let’s just break down the door and get what we need.”

“Right. Right.” He kicked the door open and they ran into the file room beyond.

Hal reached for another form, “I will be reporting your violence, Sir. I have a form 21456A right here. I’m filling it out now…” but the officers had found what they needed and left already. Hal sat filling out his form in precise detail.

Becoming True

Source: (picture of a woman, with face painted, in purple mist)

The truest form of love takes us out of our experience and sets us free from the shackles of the world. When he met her, he became fully alive for the first time. It was like she placed a finger on his heart and broke the chains which bound him to this life. He was enchanted, in love, and he had yet to speak to her.

“Oh Beautiful One!

Show me your soul!

Bind me to your wild heart!

Set me free from the constrains of thinking!

Bring me fully into to life!”

He wrote the note quickly, heart thrumming wildly in his ears. He was a poet, quiet and constrained but give him a pen and he was prolific. She was an artist, colorful and bold, painting her wild graffiti, a statement piece, on City Hall.

He approached her, braver than he had ever been. She sensed him and turned, curious, unafraid. She smiled and he choked on his heart. “Can I help you?” she asked when he stood mutely before her. He handed her the note.

She unfolded it, reading quietly, her eyes filled with tears. “It’s perfect,” she said, “I know just the place for it. Wait there and you’ll see.”

He sat near a wall, watching her work. The silence grew comfortable. His heart found some ease. He curled up on the ground and fell sound asleep.

In the morning he woke to an empty alley. She was gone but her artwork remained. It was beautiful and colorful and embedded with his words. The pairing was perfect. She had seen what he’d missed.

He shuffled home, a hole in his heart. Where had she gone, his wild artist? They could have made great art together. He unlocked his door and made his way to the bedroom, pulling his shirt off and emptying his pockets. Change and cards and bits of paper fell to his bed. He finished undressing and got into the shower.

He was still so tired. He climbed into bed, ignoring the pile but something fluttered to the floor, a scrap of pink, catching his eye. He picked it up and unfolded it.

“Oh Silent Lover!

The mate for my soul!

You soothe my heart!

You feed my thoughts!

Help me come home again!”

Below was a time and address. He would be there. A night in an alley awaited…

Local Library

Source: (Picture of a book, fanned open)

“What’s happening at the library?”

“It looks like a big book, sale. Let’s go see!”

They crossed over to the library parking lot where tents and tables were set up, “Oh my God, Marissa. I can get the whole Harry Potter series for ten dollars. And look! They have the Hunger Games series too!”

“I need that so much. It’s my favorite series. Oooh look. This is a classic. I’m buying it. I’m so happy they’re having a sale.”

Their arms loaded with more books than they could easily carry home, the girls made their way to the payment table. The librarian, stroked each book lovingly as she added up their total. “Oh, these are wonderful books, girls. I’m so glad you are taking them home to read.”

“We’re so happy you’re having this sale. We were just walking by.”

“Oh. You don’t know, then?” the librarian’s smile was suddenly replaced by a look of deep sadness.”

“Know what?”

“We’re selling the books because the library is closing. We couldn’t get enough funding to stay open. I’m sorry girls. This is the library’s last day.”