As Easy As
By Steven M Nedeau
(2021 May)
Compressing her sternum, the impact knocked the air from her lungs, creating a spasm of muscle tissue that refused to respond to command. Fingers grasped for purchase. Legs kicked at nothing in the swirling pool. Blood retreated, pulling back from the sudden cold to protect the vital organs. Thoughts halted, replaced by the blackness of primal response.
The argument with her mother lost its meaning. The angry words, driven by pain to cause pain became an echo in the distance, reaching silence, their bitterness fading away.
Everything fell away. Hate, love, jealousy, envy, loneliness, all ceased to exist. For the first time in her short life, her inner monologue held no words, no accusations, no incriminations, no belittling comments, only screams, only terror.
Doors slammed shut with a bang, vibrations shaking the walls. The violence of the encounter limited itself to inanimate objects this time. This time no hands were thrown. No fists, no slaps, no belts entered the discussion. But, vitriol dripped from the words. The insults and barbs stung the flesh, leaving behind the intended poison.
Breaking the surface, her lungs finally listened, expanding with a gulp of oxygen. Resetting her brain, the influx of air opened again the pathways of conscious thought, and in those pathways fear erupted, flowing unabated.
She left behind the empty room, the punishments, the groundings, the hours bereft of electronic entertainment, of caresses only given by the characters in her books. She left the dirty looks, the constant questions, the hovering presence. She left the back of her father’s hand.
Blindingly cold, the temperature shock might have been the thing that saved her, keeping her from gliding to the bottom dazed by the collision against the water. It stiffened her back, reflexively forcing her to try to jump out of her new environment. Rushing water filled her ears, quieting out all other sound, muffling even the gasp of that first breath.
She was not staying any longer. The coat, grabbed in haste, fluttered behind as she ran. She shook off the verbal blows thrown at her back, laughing at her mother’s pleas mixed with reproach. Her destination chosen, she ran, her mind salivating at its dream of freedom.
Carried away by the current she kicked at the rocks below, pushing off them, frantically trying to reach the shore. Her fingers inside the bright red mittens stretched for the icy sides and slid along the smooth edges.
The path before her was the same she had taken countless times. The snow underfoot drenched her sneakers, pulling the coldness from her heart to her feet. With the warming in her chest she found the words she wanted to say, the words she always failed to say. “I’m sorry, mom.”
In her eager attempt to save herself she stretched thin her strength and fell beneath the foaming cold, eyes wide in fright, choking at the mixture of air and water in her throat.
Sliding out from underneath, her feet left the edge of the shortcut behind. No sense of balance remained. No awkward flailing of limbs could save her. No moment of miraculous ability would keep her on the fallen log. This is where her footprints ended.
Before her strength completely faded, thoughts of sadness and fear entered her mind, not sadness or fear for herself, but sadness and fear for those at home. She thought of her mother’s tears. She thought of her father’s embrace.
“Will they think I jumped?”