The Day You Set Me Free

It was the afternoon of the day I died. The church was holding an after school service for the students of local high schoolers because they knew that high schoolers no longer get up at eight in the morning on a Sunday to attend a church service. My parents wanted me to make friends so I attended.  I went into the building and was surrounded by a mass of teenagers talking and chatting while leaning up against the walls. Everyone had a friend but as I looked around for someone to talk to, I found more and more people staring at me. So I made a beeline to the bathroom.

The people in the hall eventually cleared and followed the adults into the auditorium.

"Should I go? Should I not go?"

I asked myself this. The halls were beginning to become more empty. I stayed in the bathroom. The band began to play and I cried to myself.

After two hours, the service had ended. A few girls had gone into the bathroom at the time noticing a girl sitting by herself on the toiled but they refrained themselves from saying anything. Instead, they peed in the next stall.

Finally everyone had left and I had cried enough tears. My eyes were dry and I stepped out of the stall, looking into the mirror. Nobody would be able to tell that I had been crying.

I didn't want to go home though. I walked down the carpeted hallways and found the stairwell. I climbed it up to the top floor. Then I went down another hallway that lead to the balcony room. I entered it and saw the statue of Jesus hanging over the altar. I sat myself between the aisles of seats and put my head into my lap. Just for a little while longer, I would stay here.

Then I heard them come in.

"Okay. We are finally alone" said a male voice.

The female voice whimpered.

"I am not sure about this Mark. How can I have sex in a church? This is supposed to be a holy place."

"Technically we were married when we gave our bodies to each other. If our love is pure then God won't mind" said the guy. "Besides Jana, I love you so much. You just have to trust me."

Jana. My sister. Innocent and pure. Everyone loved her. My family cherished her accomplishments while I just faded into the background most of the time.

"Okay Mark."

First came the breathing, then the rustle of clothes. Finally they were together in the middle of the church on the floor. Jana lay up to Mark as he kissed her neck, her eyes, her mouth. They were crying and happy. I felt betrayed and fascinated watching the intimacy. Then I felt disgusted that I had watched it for so long.

"I love you Jana. Why don't you love yourself?"

"I don't deserve you Mark."

"Don't say that. Of course you do."

I couldn't take it anymore. I crawled on my hands and knees then finally stood on my feet. Standing at the doors, I pushed them open and dashed down the hall, down the stairs, out of the church and into my car. Then I drove away.

Jana. I thought about her the whole day. How could it be that someone could be so kind and honest while no one took the time to think of me or consider me? Seriously now. I walked through the hallways at school and despite my suffering, nobody ever saw. Nobody ever expected that I cried myself to sleep. They just left me alone.

Perhaps it is because I am so happy that nobody loves me. But Jana. Jana didn't deserve to live.

I thought about it for a long time: killing my sister. So that night, I entered her room. I watched her as she slept. Her eyes were closed innocently. She breathed in and out. Like a baby. Like a pure and innocent fawn.

I stared at her for a moment and then I grasped her throat.

Her eyes popped open and she tried to scream but I silenced her. I cupped my hand over her mouth. Then pushing her down, I took the knife out of my pocket and sliced both of her wrists. She stopped screaming. She just looked at the ceiling.

Then I saw the ceiling too. I stared up at it. My arms felt numb. They hurt. My sister was not in the room.

I approached the mirror and that is where I saw myself with a knife in my hand. The blood trickling down my arms.

I fell to the floor.

At my funeral, they said, "Jana was a nice and loving girl. She always cared about her friends and was always there for them. She volunteered at animal shelters and was an active member in her church. She was loved by her family, her friends, her boyfriend Mark. We just didn't know that she was troubled. Perhaps if we knew, we could have saved her."

After the service, dark clouds began to descend on the cemetery. It was slow at first but then the wind started to pick up speed and began to howl. Rain started to pour from the skies.

I walked through the field with my funeral dress trailing from behind and my hair blowing in the breeze. Watching the scene. Staring at the sky. Filled with rage, I shook my first at it.

"I curse the day you set me free" I yelled.

Then I was gone.