Death.
At the presentation of the subject, many adjectives, phrases, and names come to mind. Many give a lot of thought to the subject, they are called pessimistic. Many also don't tend to think of the subject, and they are called optimistic. Optimism shouldn't be a guise to hide the ignorant, but it sure is often used as a defensive mechanism for many. Those who paint themselves as happy and externally well off, but ignore the larger sight of things. They amble uselessly around the world, ignoring their impending death. The death that liberates them. It takes their family, friends, and beloved pets-- her pet died when she was eleven-- it shaped them. It's hardened them, molded their malleable minds into more pragmatic ones. The death of their loved ones is always taken harshly, whether it be like a cigarette pushed into their skin, branding them for life as a cow or as a slow and fleeting brush of a knife over their heart.
Death is the driving force of their life, the compelling end that makes them work to keep their mind off of it. Death gives them a purpose to wake up every morning and not just want to return to their bed, and lie uselessly in wait. It's the imminent force that gives purpose to labor. Going to school, to become a part of society.
Gwen now has a boyfriend, which could lead to a family, to have someone at least remember you, she thinks. Like a jealous lover, death keeps her in perpetual suspense, artfully captivating her every move. But, the worst part is that death isn't even a punishment. It's release. She doesn't even deserve it, no one really does. She doesn't deserve blissful rest. She's such a crybaby. She's so self-righteous, it's disgusting.
There's no reason to not keep on thinking about death--your very existence revolves around it--its only natural. No one should tell you to 'stop to smell the mother fucking roses'. Especially when you have reason to worry.
He's left a text message on her phone, and he never texts her unless he has something he wouldn't want to say to her face. Gwen feels her heart thump as the pads of her fingers clutch her phone, her cheeks heated.
Wild brown eyes search the page, scrolling to read the message. Her breath stops as she reads the message. A frown slowly appears on her lips as her eyes water.
Can't say she didn't see it coming.
He has left a detailed passage of words, explaining why he didn't like her anymore. The classic, ' It's not you, it's me' along with ''We just don't fit ' A choked cry escapes her lips, as she turns away from her phone. Her head lies against her pillow, allowing for the softness to calm her troubled head. She gasps out air, the heartbreak constricting her throat with its vice-like grip. Memories flood her mind of all the times he's been against the backboard of her bed at night, faintly smelling his peppermint odor in her room. She feels uneasy like he's just used her and got his fill. His words held empty promises and his smiles were hollow. He didn't love her. At least, he didn't love her for a while.
Then, she blames herself.
Maybe, she came off as too needy. Maybe, he needs space from her. It doesn't stop her from allowing her tears to fall down her cheeks like hot coals. Sobs escape her lips as she holds her pillow closer, not bothering to actually muffle her cries. Her neighbors can probably hear. Just another reason why he left her. She's a goddamn child. She's a crybaby. That's what will kill her, she's sure.
She continues crying.
(1.0)
Her eyes focus on the sky, as she takes another shaky deep sigh, her hands creasing the card between her fingers. Brett gave it to her when he asked her out. She's out of work, she got off ten minutes ago. She's just sitting down. Her phone rings from her pocket.
It's her mom.
"Hello?" she said in a cracked voice. She could feel the tears against the brim of her eye sockets.
"Honey...what just happened?" her mom asked.
"I...I...nothing mom. What are you calling about?"
She felt odd, her mom hadn't called her since she announced that she refused to move from Chicago. She was frustrated that she refused to come home and live in Roanoke.
"Just...be careful tonight." she sighed. "Remember to lock your doors."
"Why?" she asked, interested. "Chicago is really a changed place. Robbers really aren't too big of an issue any more mom."
"That's not why I'm worried. I'm just going to advise that you find a hotel room to spend a week or two. Don't go back to work. Don't go back to your apartment. Tell them you need to leave for a little."
Gwen's forehead creased. Why was her mom telling her to leave her apartment? She told her that in a few months, she would be begging to go back to Roanoke.
"Mom? Is something going on at home?"
"Gwen, please. Just do it for your father and I. The council has gotten pretty impatient and we don't know what to do. Just get far away, please. We will wire some money. Just make sure to leave the state."
"Mom?! I don't understand? What about the council? I don't live there anymore." she half screamed. She received an awkward look from a passing mother and child. She waved it off, smiling and muttering an apology.
"Gwen. Someone is coming after you, and that's all I can tell you. I know you don't want to come back home. So just leave. They just want to bring you home. Don't be scared, just live normally. They probably won't find you."
Gwen felt herself boil. Probably. The probability that whatever crazy stalker that they had sent to retrieve her would find her terrified her. Especially knowing most of them were racist and would probably want to kill her off instead of taking her back to their little village people society.
" I'm going to the police about this," she told her mother. "If someone is actually following me, then they will be able to help me."
"Gwen. Don't try it. It won't do much help to report a stalker without ever actually seeing them." her mom warned.
"Then I'll just go to a friend's house. He'll understand."
With the overlapping silence, Gwen could feel the tension from the other side of the phone. Her mom coughed slightly.
"Your boyfriend?" she asked, her tone wavering.
"No. He's just a friend. Don't worry, he lives pretty far. I'll call a cab and I'll stay in touch. I'll be careful ma, don't worry." she coughed.
Gwen turned off the phone and sat for a minute before she bolted from her seat to the edge of the park. Running past crowds of people and children. Swerving past families, pets, stalls, and what not.
Someone was trying to bring her back to Roanoke.
She felt her body collide with the frame of a tall lean stranger. She looked up to see a white man in a baseball cap. He had the most familiar blue eyes, but she told herself that it couldn't be him. He would never leave Roanoke.
"Watch where you're going, Bitch," he said. His eyes darted at her frame. He saw a smile creep up on his features as he grasped her shoulder, talking into her ear. Gwen struggled against his strong iron like grip.
She felt his fingers crawl onto her mid back, pulling her closer to him. They looked like lovers, she thought for a quick second. Before she remembered that he was there to return her to her home. Why the council would send him of all options beguiled her.
"I guess I got a lucky break, didn't I Gwen?" he's chuckled. "Now I just need to drive us home."
Did her mom say that she still had a crush on him? Aaron never respected her very much and was really fond of hurting her. He often bullied her back in their youth. She saw him scan her body as move closer to her, lightly brushing against her boobs.
Gwen positioned her hands on his chest shoving him away. Eccentric blue eyes hardened as he maintained their faux lover stance. She heard an older man snicker as he walked past them. Aaron pulls her to the edge of the park, his grip dormant and his face blank. Gwen attempts to wrench herself from his hand.
"If you do that shit again, I won't even go easy on you."
Gwen gulped, as she followed his path. He took her out of the park and to what she recognized as his sleek black car from high school. It still looked super fancy and it still seemed the same. He opened the door with one hand and shoved her in with the other on the passenger side. He reinforced her seat belt, which was ultra tight due to the chair being pushed forward. He gets in the driver's seat and slams the door before locking both of their doors with a click of a button. He glares down at her, expecting her response to be one of anger.
"Why the fuck didn't you come back?" he asks. "What were you doing here? Did you want to marry someone here? I thought you graduated a few months ago. Did you honestly think we would leave you alone?"
Gwen sat silently, her mind ablaze with choices. She intensely stared at the rear view window, ignoring him.
"Don't fucking test me, Gwen," he growled. "You're lucky I didn't want Randall to kill you. He suggested sending a bounty hunter after you.
A bounty hunter? She wondered how badly people wanted her dead. Randall was the mayor's brat, who was best friends with Aaron since childhood.
"Why are you doing this?" she croaked. "Wouldnt you want me dead too?"
"No," he said, with a slight smirk."I think killing a runaway slave is pointless. Especially when you promised me that you would do anything for me."
"I was being an idiot back then."
"I don't care, you whore. We're going to get married. As long as you're back in Roanoke, you'll be in my house."
"Married?" she gasped."And you're ok with getting married?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
Deciding not to answer his comment with another quip, she gave a deep sigh as she put her hands on her face. She saw him look out of the corner of his eye and then look away quickly.
She looked at him as if he was crazy. Aaron hated her guts as she hated his. Living together would end in nothing but death. Gwen raised a brow, staring at the man. He had his gaze focused on the busy street, but seemed to be attentive enough to converse with.
"Why would I want to live with you?" she snarkily bit.
"I'm one of the only people other than your parents who want you alive. If you don't want to listen to me, I can very well have you stoned for actually running away."
Gwen looked at his face, noting his blue eyes were narrowed and his jaw tightly hinged. Aaron wasn't really the nice type, and his features were normally stoically beautiful. But as he sat in the driver's seat next to her, all she could think of was his anger. He wasn't really in the mood for talking.
"I was still going to school--."
"I know you aren't. You're not enrolled in anything. Your mom told me."
Cursing under her breath, Gwen reminded herself that her mom didn't exactly qualify as 'sane'. She should have listened to her father and just did her masters.
"Are you ready to go home, my wife?" he asked, eyes still on the road. She heard the hum of the engine and the quietness of the Illinois suburbs as they sat in front of the intersection.
The fluorescent red traffic sign changed to green and she didn't respond.
The drive to Georgia would be a long one.