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Forward: The purpose of this essay was to catch a moment. To secret away it's essencense and maybe hopefully share it. Though I guess it's not a good moment. I really sat on the bench and I really felt this. I'm not saying ghosts but it was an eery night. I'm not gonna belabor the point of this essay by re-explaining it now. You will know if you have shared this same moment trust me. If not email me if you really don't get it.

Twilight Magazine Cover

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    I sit here in the courtyard of my high school. A warm breeze softly kisses my cheek and the sky is an iridescent charcoal. As I write on the back of scrap piece of paper I hear only small noises, a bark, the roar of a football game nearby, and them. Their voices are soft and weak at first. Voices of yore still linger on. They are the kind that make animals pace and act strangely. My animal senses are awakened as I am forced to listen. They whisper sweet nothings of nevermore. It reverberates in my mind and chips at my heart. But underneath these caustic siren melodies I hear the calls for help. Those who finally want to be heard. Those who don’t want to cry in the shadows. I sit here in the open, all alone, but I can feel them all tearing at me from different sides. Bleeding hands reach out but the second I try to grasp them… To grasp their loss and suffering. I become overcome with emotion and they evaporate back into the lonely breeze. I still smell the scent that they radiate. So bittersweet…. so sad. The pain, the anguish mixed with moments of pleasure stings my nostrils. I would scream if it weren’t so thick. So suffocating. Squeezing at my throat and searing it shut.

    They parade by with their smiling faces, the ones that mock, that scar. Those smiles that you only see in magazine and in the memories you cannot forget. So much pain… just so much pain. Never are they so forward to stand in front of me but they flicker by in my peripheral sight… in the back of my mind.

    As I walk through the hallways when they are full and buzzing I hear their voices louder. But these are more real. They are the voices of what will become another girl’s living nightmares as she sits on a bench at the twilight hour. Every face I see, with their coal smudged cheeks and heart has the potential to hurt. I’m not scared for myself but for the ones they will entrap. Those who will try to close their eyes in order to melt away and forget but there are smiling magazine pictures imprinted underneath their eyelids. No rest for the weary. But the ghosts hide eventually and bury themselves waiting for a signal, a face, to provoke their invidious legacy. Freshly dug graves unearth quite easily. I know for there is one barricaded inside. Haunting my dreams. And I cry for those who hide in sleep because I am one. I walk on tear stained cement. And though I have yet to add to this monster I feel effected. I peer at the world through charcoal colored glasses. I am permeated with sadness I understand only so well.

    I close my eyes but their voices only echo louder. Why must there be so much pain? I gasp, eyes now open, heads towards the stars, hoping for a breath of untainted air. And suddenly it is quiet. I watch the stars peer out from the dusty sky and bask in their perfect light. They attain something that no magazine smile could aspire to. Perfect beauty, beauty unaffected by the cruelness of this world. For there are millions of places like my high school and there are millions of people crying themselves to sleep and many more that provoked these tears whether knowingly or not. We are but mere mortals and do not know what we do. And these celestial lights just watch on. Silent observers beaming down their millions of years old light. They are just so far away… I reach up. Just too far away…

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