Opaque

She doesn’t know what to do. She did not expect this at all. She chokes on the heart in her throat. She wants to cry out. The very worst and the best in her life always happened together.

She remembers it all. The fear. The anxiety. Wanting to vomit from something she could not yet describe and from the snot. And Johnny at her window. 13 years old then, and she had to have been just turning four because the skies were their brightest blues and she only wears her panties that say it is Tuesday and she is warm; her hair is slicked to her forehead. Or maybe it is more blood.
God is punishing her for being disrepectful to thou parents.
Because she dropped her glass and broke it. Because she told her mother what to do. ‘Stop yelling’.
And as she cried, she wondered why Mother was not going to bed right now too. And she knows god wants you to cause no one harm. And Samatha’s mother had throw the butterknife at her and the blade had stuck into her head.
Samantha knows her mother hates her. And she is pretty sure God wouldn’t either.
But there is Johnny, with his brown hair always in his brown eyes. There like he always was when she cried.
“Hey now, baby, everything’s going to be ok…”
And the joy she felt when she looked in his eyes.

And the joy she feels when Tommy kisses her, his dark eyes and hands, they move right into her.
And suddenly she is there. Mother.
What is the reason? How is the reason…?
Samantha gets up from the picnic bench and runs.

Her family asleep and snoring as they always do. The skies were the transparent blue of a fine summer’s night. She is going into the fifth grade. And she has snuck-out onto the porch to celebrate her favourite time of the day and she would end up forever wishing she could remember the name of the book she had with her; a random one pulled from under her bed, as cover up if caught.
She could hear his tears as he walked by.
And she said, “Hey, now, everything’s going to be ok” and because she couldn’t bring herself to say baby, her words came out sounding confident. Tough.
Or so Tommy thought. So, he toughened himself up too. Because girls,even if they were just kids, can’t be tougher than him. At any time. Ever.
So, he sniffed off his tears and said back to her,”Hey, baby, everything is always ok.”
And the light of the night shone over him, as if he were an Angel, she thinks.

* Needs to Get Here
-pigment used to block out particular areas on a negative