23

Summer




1984



I was happy to be out of school, school didn't seem kind to me now. I was different. Even though father had set things right and I was treated with more respect, the students looked at me as an outcast. A crazy girl who thought she was dying and talked to things that weren't there. But, they didn't know yet, those things were there and they were as real as the children in the fourth grade.



So summer was nicer. I spent quite a bit of my time at my aunts in Memphis, where she treated me as if I was special. She even spoiled me to a point and it was nice. But at that same point, I wanted more freedom. She was afraid to let me outside on my own which meant no walks around the block, no walking to the store and often supervision when talking on the phone. Despite the restaurant visits, the shopping, I missed my home in the country. It was just too clean here, no sterile.



When I was back in Mississippi, I spent most of my time in the woods nearby by house. I would walk for hours down trails, paths and just the open woods. I thought of many things including death. In places far away from the light of my home, I would cry. I saw shadows of things that may or might not have been there. One night, I stayed out too late and got lost in a section of the forest that I wasn't as familiar with. The shadows were thick there and right before I stood from a log to look around, the shadow reached out to touch me. I saw the thing withdraw and dissapate back into the undergrowth. I shivered and called out...'death?' The sun began to set as I scrambled for some recognizable clue as to where I was. Finally as panick had seized me, I found a barbed wire fence and followed it all the way to my cousin's house. There, I took the road back home to safetly. As I walked the long dirt road, I noticed shapes flitting through the trees which lined the road. I heard voices, very faint but persistent which called to me. I stopped somewhere between my cousin's house and my home, and I listened to what they were saying. I could hear my name and I could hear pleads for help and the strangest statements still were the warnings.



The darkness said 'dont tell them'.



I have no idea what that meant but I was frightened so I ran the rest of the way home. When I saw the light of my porch, I could hear the music as well. I could smell the bread cooking and the dogs barking. At this moment, I felt that there was no place like home.



Summer



1984



I could almost use my arm as I did before. I climbed the tree right outside my house and only felt a small twinge of pain as I pulled up and onto the upper limbs of the oak. I sat there and looked around the yard. Different perspectives were nice, being able to look down from such heights instead of looking down at the ground as I walked among the students who all thought they were better than me. There was no shame in this, there was no pain.



My father came outside and called to me. I watching him call three times before answering. I was amazed at how his anger rised the more I ignored his calls..and he knew in some way that I was ignoring him. I slide down from the tree and walked up to my father.



I said nothing as I looked up at him. He angrily spoke



"young lady, when you hear me calling you, you better come here.'



I looked up in fear 'yes sir'



He glanced behind him at mother standing in the doorway. "YOu get in there and finish those dishes. No man is going to have you if you can't do the dishes."





I went into the kitchen and turned on the water. I couldn't feel the heat of the water at first. I just kept thinking of how alone I would be, since no man would ever have me.



Summer



1984

I think Death would want a human name when speaking with us. Wouldn't death want to be called by his given name when he held us?



Some people go by many names, many alias's and yet some should only be called as I see em....death. But for my stories sake, I can make death more personal for me.



George was at the house again, he stole things, he lied and he liked to play games. I tried not to get angry when George was around, for he made me so angry.



I looked down at my hands digging into the arm of the chair and watched George walk over to me. He smiled that crooked smile and sat down. He always sat too close to me and stared too long. I felt my body began to tremble and start to sweat. His hand moved from his own leg onto the small space between us. His hand remained still for a moment then his nasty fingers began to crawl pulling his hand behind them. I watched in horror as he lifted two fingers and reached for the hem of my dress.



I stood, looking down at him now and frowned. I know this isn't right and I must go. I turned to see him looking up from the remainder of our 2 liter Coke. He had stolen that as well.



He gave me that look again, the mean one.