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Short Stories -- Echoes
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......The sun screaming through the small window and pushing its way into his head as he leans forward and empties the small plastic container out over the empty counter. Out falls his rainbow, scattering across the clean white surface to dance in the sunlight a moment before spreading like a stain of colors. He stares at the colors a moment, mesmerized by their beauty, by the secrets each one holds within its core. He feels sick. Numbness in his limbs, a dull throb in his head, and an ache in his chest. God it's bright. He closes his eyes against the sun and the rainbow's brilliance and can feel the heavy footsteps of his heart echoing through his body. Can still see the rainbow in his mind, finding him in his dark place. His hideaway. And it calls to him softly, commanding to open his eyes and he does, slowly. And there before him lie the pieces of his rainbow. He smiles grimly down at his rainbow and can still feel the echo of his heart in him, the echo of the voices that haunt ! him and hang about his head. He turns the tap on and water rushes out into a flood and runs down the sink and into the darkness beyond. Without even thinking he arranges his rainbow as he always does, always has, and takes the first color in his rainbow and puts it in his mouth. He closes his eyes and lets it sit on his tongue a moment, letting its bitterness sink into him slowly before he leans forward and fills his mouth with water. The icy water burns his mouth as he rises up and sits back on the toilet lid again and swallows the first color in his rainbow -- ......Red. ......And within the red his father's words there, waiting for him and then assailing him as soon as he is spotted. The same litany as always -- the mantra of failure and abuse. And beyond that are Emily and Gerrod waiting to confront him. To shove their love and his loss in his face as they laugh. The lies and rumors spread through the halls of the school about him. The whispers as he passes and the rage that greets his every day. And beyond that lie the scars across his arms and chest. The narrow red reminders of where some dark rainbows lead. ......He takes the next color and follows suit -- dropping it on his tongue and taking a mouthful of water and then swallowing. ......Orange. ......The first walk with Emily so long ago. The smell of the burning leaves and the feel of her soft small hand. How goddamned beautiful she was in the dusk and how soft her lips were on his. Stuttering I love you to her under the stars as she lay with her head in his lap and god did he feel wonderful. Seeing his sister again, smiling and happy and so, so, so alive. The darkness that was to fill her cheeks and brow not even a mote. Remembering when he and Gerrod had been friends so long long ago, before there were such creatures as girls and the summer nights seemed to be a world unto their own -- secret and wonderful and full of secrets to be discovered. ......His eyes glaze as he takes the next color in the spectrum into his mouth and is quickly lost to the spell and promise of the rainbow. ......Yellow. ......His father's words falling on him harder and harder as if each was a brick falling atop him, or a length in a noose but unable to confront him. Able only to look at his father with fear, and sadness, and self-hatred. To make the deep ruts in his skin to burn the pain of the echoes away. Hearing what they said at school, feeling their spit, smelling the shit they'd put in his locker but unable to make them stop. To even tell anyone. Knowing, or perhaps telling himself, that it was no use. That nothing changes, it just goes on and on and on. Wading through the abuse and the pain in the vain hopes that if perhaps he said nothing, did nothing, was nothing, they would just stop. Would lose interest. ......Green. ......Wanting to be with her again, with Emily again, and hating Gerrod for being with her. Hating her for being with him. Hating their love, their arms that were always locked together, hating what he heard they were doing. Imagining what they did at night when they were alone together, in his attic or in her basement. In his car or hers. In her bed or his. Doing what he was never able to. Had been so afraid to do despite how much she had wanted him, or said she did. Watching how his father treated Walter and Zachary. As if they were twin Christ's. Watching how his father treated his stepdaughter. Margie. As if Mary had never been born. Hating Margie for being able to just fucking be when Mary had been lost too goddamned young. ......Blue. ......The tears seeming to be endless as Mary was eaten alive by her disease. Was aged beyond her fifteen years to become a living mummy, a dying doll. Finding his mother dead in the bath a year later, her body white and still. His father re-married in a year. Watching Emily fall out of love with him. If she had ever loved him. Watching he and she drift farther and farther apart as he drifted further out to sea and unable to stop any of it. Wanting to stop hurting himself, her, and to hold her, tell her, kiss her, let her help him. But in the end unable and unwilling and then she was gone. Gerrod there for her as he was never able to be. Holding her when he could only hold himself. Loving her while he could only hate himself. Drifting further and further to sea so that his step-mother had sent him to see someone. Someone that gave him his rainbow. Insisting it was the way to salvation, as if divinity and godhead lay at its center. ......Indigo. ......And wanting to kiss Emily again so badly. Thinking of her soft lips, her soft hands. Laying in the dark of his room and pretending she still loves him, wants him, wants to be his forever. Feeling her firm breasts against his chest and her hands roving his body. Thinking that what if... Perhaps... Maybe... Her face and scent so clear in his head, and knowing in his heart they were meant to be together. It had felt so, so right with her. In her arms. And smiling in spite of himself. ......Violet. ......And the smile warming him as the last of the rainbow slips into his system. Sensing change. Feeling change. Wanting it so badly. His eyes shut tight against the sun, the mirror, the bathroom door and the rest of the world. Wanting it to work this time. Wanting the doctor to be right and believing it. That this was the time. That he had found the center, the secret center of the rainbow and beyond it lay the warm sunshine and soft breeze and Emily. Knowing that this time he would open his eyes and the echoes would be gone and he would be alone. Be himself again. Would be whole and happy and clear. And believing in the magic of the rainbow he opens his eyes -- ......Opens his eyes to nothing. To his haggard and sweaty reflection and the sound of running water. To the bright and stinging sun and the heavy feeling in his chest and the ache in his limbs. And finally to the echoes that are there waiting for him patiently. He lets out a sob and his hands become fists in an instant. In a blur of motion he hammers his fists against the sides of his head again and again and again, his head radiating with the pain and fury of the blows. Suddenly halting that attack to run his ragged nails across his arms to leave thin red tracks that lead to his wrists and stop. Wanting only to kill. Destroy. Punish. But looking up to see the sad boy looking at him from the mirror. The deep, black ruts beneath his eyes reminding him of Mary suddenly and his arms fall limply to his sides and he can only stare at the reflection and be pulled from the rainbow by the echoes. Pulled into the stinging sun and its harsh gaze. He turns off the water and sits heavily on t! he toilet and cries softly to himself as the echoes call his name. |
Submitted by:
Chris Ringler |
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