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That white room, oh how I remember that room. I remember when it was full of laughter, when it was still a white room. Not anymore, not like it is now. Its walls are no longer white, never again. It probably still looks as fresh as it did the day it happened. The day I chose not to be there, during the hours I was always there. I should have been there. That blood should have also been mine and my body like theirs, like his. I could not tell you what I did that day, instead of being with them, with him. I should have been there for them, should have been included in that. It is all blank, blackness is the only memory I have before seeing the horror of what happened. I did not cry. I only forgot everything about them, about him. I cannot even think of his name. Once I step foot into that room, I will remember, but I never will. I never want to remember. I miss him, whoever he is. I am terrified to think more, but I will try, for him. Maybe I can unravel what really happened, because I am the only other who normally resided in that plain white room. I loved it. Everything was white like snow, the floor, the walls, the door, the curtains, everything, white. I loved the white, the emptiness, and that everyone shined in that room. I hate white, I even will go as far to say I despise this canvas I pour my thoughts and emotions into right now. It almost drives me crazy. White was so beautiful, so pure. I was so happy, until that day. I was never alone, until that day. I could do anything, until that day. I remembered who I was, until that day. I always went to that room, until that day. I knew who they were, who he was, until that day. I loved him, until that day. Why was it me that was the only one untouched by what had happened? Why was I left all alone? Without happiness, without anything. Alone. It feels familiar, this feeling. I cannot be sure, maybe I was so alone before that white room. Or it could just be because it has been so long since I have seen them in that state, that state of movement and life. I know what they looked like when they were smiling. I see that quite often in my dreams when I am not tortured by that damned wild cat. I have beaten it, but it still thirsts for more of my pain. The beast remains unsatisfied with my victory over and over again. Or the nights I let it tear me to pieces. Will I lose my next battle with the monster in my dreams tonight or will I see the haunting reminder of their beautiful faces? I wonder do they still look the same? After all these years? I look the same, everyone says so. It has only been three years, but I still look as though I am younger than nineteen, much younger. I, most certainly, do not want to see them, see him. But enough of this, for now. A friend, a new friend, as of last year, is here and we are going on an "adventure." I enjoy these normally, so today should be no different. She is, what we would all call, my "best friend" and I am her "best friend." We are not normal, she knows not of the white room, but that I have a secret I can never tell to her. I should be able to tell her everything, we are "best friends." There is just something I cannot let her know, that white room. No one, no one but those unfortunate first and only few who knew what and when it happened. No one should know about this, never. That should be it, do not bring others into this terrible incident. There is no need to talk about what has passed. Even if it haunts me. You are the only outsider to know what I think truly happened, later. First, this adventure. My 'best friend," Brii, as she likes to be called, led the way. We traveled through the woods, sometimes the ground would be like muck concealed by the leaves under our feet. The gross black mud covered our shoes. I thought we were walking aimlessly through the woods. We were talking and I asked her if she had a destination. Normally, she would respond, "nah. I just wanted to go this direction." We would laugh and carry about our walk, but today was different. Apparently, she had heard of a spooky and scary place another mile or so out. Something bad had happened four years ago today. Brii thought it would be cool to go to look at it and see if it were true. Yet again, I questioned her again with interest. Spooky places were always good to, they made me forget more. She would not tell. i gave up with an exaggerated sigh and we walked on in silence for a while. She announced we would be there soon. We were getting closer to a dirt road and a house. Maybe a haunted house? That house was oddly familiar to my memory, what memory? Perhaps it was a house in Weird New Jersey I had seen. We walked past the house, hers and my anticipation building, for different reasons now. We walked down the dirt road and I slowly realized where I was. The place I was most happiest at. The place that took it away, the white room. I had to ask, maybe it was a place I had read about, seen only in pictures of, anything but that white room. I tried to talk, nothing came out My throat was not working. Finally, after a few minutes of silence, I could speak. "Brittany, where are we going? Is this the place where." My voice drifted off as I saw the outside of the white room. It was covered in overgrowth, basically tucked away from the world, like it always was. Brii was looking at the place, she was excited, this was the place she was looking for. The place I did not want to ever go to again. The white room. <span id="test31363952">. . .</span><br/><div id="post31363952" style="display:none; margin-right:75px;"></div>
 Shy-Star · Mon Apr 19, 2010 @ 08:40pm · 0 Comments |
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