She Wanted to Escape

In writing this piece, I would suggest listening to Antony with Bryce Dessner's song "I Was Young When I Left Home" from Dark Was the Night, as I was inspired by this song.

She sat there, part of the circle, next to the boy she liked but would only ever be friends with, next to a stranger, across from a past friend sitting next to a new friend. She sat there, talking but not engaging. Her mind wandered to the past, the future, a parallel reality. She just wanted to escape. Just wanted to relax and let her mind wander from responsibility and pain; from suffering and grief. She took one hit and passed it, coughing, feeling the rush of the drug rush into her brain, a slight pleasurable dizziness surrounding her. She smiled and watched each of the other four take a hit, cough, smile, and continue conversation. She took another, bigger hit. Held it. She let her lips part and watched the smoke just drift out of her mouth, like a lazy cloud floating on a summer day. She blew some smoke rings, pretending she was a train. She started to laugh at the idea of being a train and she told the others and they laughed. They all laughed until some cried. She sat back and closed her eyes. One boy went to get his guitar and suddenly there was soft music strumming from the fingers of her past friend. The music seemed to fill her head and her whole body tingled. Soft hums followed the guitar and a song was sung. A mix of an old childhood tune and some new phrases of current love. She opened her eyes and saw this boy looking at his girlfriend, both in their own little reality, full of love and emotion. She looked at the unattainable boy and he was playing with his hands, twisting them in and out of each other. She suddenly hated this boy and loved him with all of her will. She was tapped on the shoulder by the stranger and she inhaled like she never had before. She coughed uncontrollably, her head lifting off of her body, soaring up, somewhere far away. She could look down and around her at the same time, at those around her, unaware and yet so awake and alert. She watched herself stand up, those looking at her smiled confusedly, and she swayed to the music from the guitar. She laughed as her body tickled and she closed her eyes, tilting her head back. She let her arms swing side to side, left to right. She put them out and slowly spun in a circle. She opened her eyes and looked at those other eyes and she asked them to join her. The unattainable boy, the stranger, and the girlfriend stood up, moving to the music. She let her head roll lazily around her neck, right, back, left, forward, right again. She looked around at those around her, all smiling and moving their souls to the music, their minds separate from their bodies. The boy playing the guitar played a little faster and they all laughed and danced a little faster. They stopped swaying and started bobbing their bodies, swinging their hips and moving their arms, doing crazy footfalls and leg bends. The guitar player laughed and played louder. She could hear the pick striking each string, each twang, each singing note. She and the others sat back down, laughing and giggling together about the same and a part about the different. She laid her head on his lap and he rested his hand upon her forehead, at the start of her dark, curly hair. He looked at her, she looked at him. Each smiled. She knew what each smile meant and he understood. He let his hand glide through her hair, each finger being caressed by each curl leaping up and entwining, then letting go and settling back into their bed. The music slowed and soon the singing stopped. The music died out and everyone slowly faded away. Her heart beat slowly and her pupils dilated then grew small. Her breathing slowed and the tingling moved to numbness. His hand was all she felt. His eyes were all she saw, his lips were all she knew. His lap was what she laid upon, spent her last moments upon, and drew her last few breaths upon. She felt her body start to fall, free-fall. She could see everyone around her, the boy’s hand suddenly stop and his other hand cup her chin and turn her face toward his. She watched the stranger get out his cell phone and begin to dial; the girlfriend start to get teary eyed and watch from a far; the guitar player stand up and fall upon his knees next to her and push the boy’s hands out of the way. She watched and she felt herself still falling, slow and fast all at once. She felt the wind as it rushed through her hair, kissing her skin, lifting the fingers, caressing her chest and shoulders, breathing upon her neck, whispering into her ears. She listened to the quiet sounds of the girlfriend’s sobs, the quiet whispers of the past friend and the stranger, and she listened to the broken whisper of the unattainable boy. She watched as tears fell upon her face. His tears. She looked around at her moment of escape. Her moment of forgetting. She tilted her head back and felt the sorrow of those around her, the grief and anger starting to form. She tried to grasp something, anything. She tried to hold on. She jumped and watched her body jump back into reality, into life. She watched the bodies around hers become rigid and stiff. Taken aback. She watched her eyes move towards his, her hand wrap around his neck, her chest rise in one big breath. She heard her breath leave. It sounded like a gust of screaming wind, so loud it echoed and she felt a lightness she had never felt before. She watched the tears escape the eyes of those who didn’t know her and felt the tears of one who might have loved her.