The Tangled Tears

by S.M. Bjarnson

The Tangled Tears

  S. M. Bjarnson

 

  Copyright © 2014

  S.M. Bjarnson

  THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. ALL OF THE CHARACTERS, ORGANIZATIONS, AND EVENTS PORTRAYED IN THIS STORY ARE EITHER PRODUCTS OF THE AUTHOR’S IMAGINATION OR ARE USED FICTITIOUSLY.

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 1499131283

  ISBN-13: 978-1499131284

  DEDICATION

  A.M. Thank You.

  Thank you for all who read may you find peace.

 

  PROLOGUE

  We are all souls lost at sea. Wandering around yesterdays and the awe of could be; when will we be free to dream?

  The sign read DO NOT ENTER, ROCKS BELOW SHARP, in clear 3rd grade English. We all knew what it meant, the letters involved in creating the sentence, how it was soon to be read by passing cars or traveling hikers. It seemed as though it was a landmark, touching the matter of life or uncertain passing. Anything could happen in that instance. Anyone could fall from some sort of grace which we were given as a reminder of this life. There is no explanation for tragedy, only the connection of enduring such pain after it was left behind. I hated that part most of all; being left behind.

  True Love Never Ends

  Winter M. Moion & Chatt Thurgood.

  Episode

  1

  I smelled wet daisies as the light wind loped; the bark on the Aspen trees felt smoother than I’ve ever known it to be. Somewhere in the gray sky the color of blue strides out of place. The laughs and riddles bounce around it like a wave. The commotion you catch next are the bells and the mistakes loved ones chose.

  In momentary conflicts they slip out from your livelihood. There you are left trying to grasp onto empty false air. The cracking of branches, grass being uprooted to new foreign grounds. There stood no shelter in sight, not even for Winter or Chatt.

  I stumble to my step, catching glimpses of reality. Movement from this became improbable, turning your back on your home to find another desperate city longing for your companionship. No matter where I go the fatality of their demise will always be the forecast on my mind.

  Shelter of above we are promised to believe in for so many years, our belief superficially isolated. The wonderful creature of light gone from His post in a moment’s notice? Tell me because I can sense the darkness swallowing me whole snickering at me; I am prey.

  “Winnie, Winnie, Winnie, Winnie…” Eyes wide, searching canvases I’d relinquished to become accustomed too, there was no acclaiming her.

  Lost in a world believing angels would come to the Savior’s song, the scene of the crime left fake feathers floating above the temptations of disguised demons. Shuttering as a taciturn chill shoots along my unbending spine. I shift my body, lost in the fog. Bullets of rain coming in definitive directions, establishing their own patterns amongst the tears upon my stained skin.

  “She’s the only friend I have.” I whisper to everything in nature living.. My thoughts in chaos to point the culpability. One wonder of God promising safe waters, while the other brother concocts his own will.

  Mud kicked up in-between cowgirl boots, I cringe at my corrosive thoughts. Dead. Repeating it to myself. Dead. Gone, vanished from existence. Never to live again in mortal attire. Clothing drenched, thoughts raging, sirens blazing. There was an uncanny of numbness, nothing but fading whispers and searching of souls.

  Walking miles and miles, on no occasion do I come to the conclusion of avoiding. In search for the exodus door, to flee from this imminent adversity. I scan my footwork and swaying arms; power stroking along the side of convinced calamity.

  Strike

  2

 

  I must have been pacing for hours, maybe even an evening or two. All I knew was that I had hit state border collapsing on the side of a street; road kill waiting to be pressed so far into the highway there is no evidence of this creature’s life at all.

  A familiar tide of tones fill the air, my pocket bulges with noises. I have never longed to hear this very one though; my father’s ringtone. I blink away his misinterpreted messages of concern. I was alone and he had no right to be a part of that.

  Jenks rang my phone four times, among other text messages from people who considered themselves my friends. Sympathy voters I suppose.

  Winnie’s number blinked like a mirage in the desert. I threw my phone in uneasy angst, I know I must feel hurt; I bleed, but have no wounds to share. Here I laid, estranged on this abandoned roadway. Provoking myself into thinking everything will be okay.

  Jenks, could you give me a lift? Text message sent wet dirt painting itself over the plastic of my screen. Positioned down on top of the dirt, drifting far from here. I find myself wafting in the unknown, it was almost tangible. I found myself picturing a world away from this one, one I could be in control of, one where happiness grew, and prosperity blossomed. Every morning is simply bliss, waking up to the sun beaming its glorious rays of warmth. Comforts that can make anyone feel at home, even me.

  All that peace seems to disappear when I hear the screeching tires of a black street car pull up next to me, Jenkins.

  “AJ! Are you okay!” Slipping his arm around my shoulders for support. Brushing nature’s perfections from my face, gently saddling me into the passenger seat of the car.

  “After I heard about the incident I came looking for you. Left my phone on at basketball practice, checking it every 15 minutes. Coach kept yelling at me to save it for later.” Concern pressed into my atmosphere.

  “Oh, why?” I fidget with my fingers, placing them underneath my tingling thighs.

  “Because, I was worried. Here, you must be cold.” He grabs a blanket from the back seat warming me up.

  “How did you know where to find me anyway? I don’t even know where I’ve wandered to.” Shuttering in near disbelief I was in the car with a boy I barely knew, a guy I had never actually wanted to know in my lifetime. There he was sitting next to me, trying to be a hero to this damsel in distress.

  “Your dad told me.”

  Last place he would even think of sending Jenks to look for me came to mind. Winter was 7 and I was 4. He had taken us to a summer cottage and we had played here by the lake. My eyes squinted I remembered this place to be better, cheerful and welcoming. All I saw in the limelight of it now was broken shutters and a screen door torn down the middle exposing a welcome sign barely hanging on to hope.

  “Come on we better get you home.” He shifted gears higher and lower speeding and slowing at all the slopes and corners.

  “If my father sent you, we have no choice but to return and manage the chaos at hand.” I gave him a look of both puppy and hungry monster eyes. Jenkins was confused on what to do next.

 

  Leave it be Starts at

  3

  Voices lingering around town. The school halted scheduled hours. Everyone in disarray, no one safe from being taken. If Winter was the first, who would be the next? If bad things came in threes, shouldn’t I have been the first to make the sequence complete?

  She was classical. I was more modern pop. I replayed the lyrics to my favorite song expiration for the beauty. Honest to only wanting to follow her spirit into the absence of light. Picking through dresses as many as I collected shorts. Her make up in perfect order, obtuse to the chaos lived inside my room.

  My father figure gave disgrace on my absolute questions on morality and chances of survival. He looked not down upon me, but beyond. Through the vanishing wisdom I so eagerly earned. For everyday was a chance to teach and learn about the alphabet of the livelihood, she escaped from.

  Why are we the way we are?

  Why do we consistently, think that we
have to fight everyone on everything?

  Why as I stare out this window tonight, do I feel the hate growing strong inside me?

  Will things ever be the same?

  Will I ever feel love, actual love?

  Shouldn't life be better?

  Shouldn't I be able to move on through this pain?

  I don't know why I am here and she is not...

  She was everything I couldn't be, everything I needed to be, but didn't have the power to become.

  The world could have managed my loss.

  Sorrow still shouted out for her.

  I am nothing of that sort.

  I am only an unfamiliar face in a crowd.

  A finger print in society's records.

  An empty soul, among the fulfillers.

  I am that beautiful face you pass by, because you noticed my sister standing on my side.

  I am nothing special.

  I do not even compare to you.

  You have friends; you have love and excitement.

  I walk in the wind. If I could stand in the wind for hours I would. Wishing, hoping, and waiting for it to lift me up into an embrace.

  Taking me away from sorrows and troubling times.

  As it waves goodbye, gently caressing my soft face.

  Leaving me abandoned once again, by an emotionless thing.

  I miss you, I whisper to the empty air, watching my words blow away.

  How do I stop this torturing war, this undying battle?

  I want it to end.

  I want this to end.

  I don't want to be.

  Why didn't you take me?

  Lost in Life

  4

 

  “Please trust me, AJ.” He gave out his hand and I looked at it dismayingly. Blanket placed in his hand instead of a warm motion.

  “I don’t think its trust you need, Jenks.” The heat turns up. Peering out the windshield onto the busy road. Insults aimed at a welcoming gesture, along with the man who stood behind it. I ached to know that affection. I wanted to reach out and touch him. My thoughts led back to one thing; would he be worth losing?

  “Now how did you really find me Jenks? We both know my father did no search or rescue for reasons we both are clear of.” I hesitated on my words. I kept distance not caring anymore.

  “I remember some of the stories you use to tell in middle school about Winter and you. There was always one I heard most overall; the summer cottage in the park.” His eyes playing mismatch with mine.

  “After I heard about the accident…accidents, weren’t they? They must have been, right?”

  I shifted my shoulders up and down, shrugging away the thought of purposeful fate.

  “I went looking for you. Everywhere I could possibly think of, anywhere I thought you would be wanting to be left alone. I searched for you.” Placing his hand on top of mine, it feels unfamiliar. I’ve held boys hands before. The heat pressing into my soft skin, I do remember his hands holding mine in a past circumstance. All I recall is that I don’t want to remember anymore.

  He pulls to a slow, my house in the clearing. Catering to the whimsical, romantic feeling I never did get about that old Victorian house. It wasn’t a home if you invited me to observe, not even a little bit. There were blue and red lights flickering through the cracks and crevasses; who wouldn’t feel at home?

  Making it come alive in a whole new scheme of things. I relax in seconds of calmness and certainty.

  “AJ, you’re home.” Jenkins spoke softly into my eardrum.

  “Where are we?” I stretch my swollen eyes open.

  “Don’t worry; I’ve got you, AJ.” He held me tightly next to his chest; the rain subsided quietly as it had come. My father in view, his voice in range.

  “Put her down. She is neither sick, nor lame. Requiring your assistance any further is discouraged.” My father looks at me in disgust, my clothing draped around me like a wet curtain on a hurricane day.

  Jenkins places me down beside him, whispering to me if I am alright. I shake my head in a shiver, the wind perceives tonight.

  “Thank you for the ride, have a good night.” I place the unused towel in his hand; the hand I held.

  “No problem. Call if you need anything.” He gave me a stare that was promising.

  My father huffed, “She won’t need the likes of you dear boy. I guarantee you that.” He said, with his snarl. Persuading me away from Jenkins and into the billowing gale perturbing inside.

  Challenging the Patriarch

  5

 

  He locks the grand door behind him. With his head lowered, he starts to speak to me.

  "Where have you been, out with some boy?” His quotations making marks upon marks. Rolling the tentative eyes I have.

  "Like it even matters, Dad." He stomped towards me with his evil daring eyes.

  "Do you think you could be a little less conceited at a time like this, with the passing of your sister and that boy of hers?" He demanded, as he always did.

  I kept my eyes steady hesitating on what exactly I should say. Blinking back tears making me vulnerable.

  "Do you have any idea what it feels like having to worry about you? On top of hearing about Winter dying from something as reckless and stupid as bridge jumping, what the hell was she thinking; stupid girl and I bet it was that damn Chatt boy's idea!" He slammed his hand against the marble table.

  "I'm sorry I don't know what that is like, sounds pretty rough, and your first time at this trick dad." Sarcasm filters through my teeth with words I nearly mean. He is so engulfed into his ranting he doesn't hear my remark; thank goodness for my sake I assure you.

  "I knew the match of them was never a grand ideal, I perceived it so!" He paced around the foyer, stomping as he went.

  "She isn't stupid dad. They had a love for one another, one that no one can deny." I trailed off saying something along the lines of..."You wouldn't know anything about that though, now would you?"

  "What did you say to me young lady?" His face was angry, his movements intentional.

  "Well…" I began to say. His hand stopped my words before I could.

  Slap!

  "How dare you disrespect me!"

  Slap!

  Grabbing his hand right before another hit to the other side of my broken face.

  "Don't touch me, again." I calmly stated in thick concrete.

  “Just go to your room.” He stated, like I had made the mistake. Like I was the one who had plenty of friends clamoring at my door wishes to partake in the knowledge I could give to them.

  In one swift movement I transformed from the sideline daughter to the one and only daughter. Family and close friends positioning their prize soul mate 6 feet below the crust of the Earth’s surface. Making no interpretation of whether or not they might survive, how well did they even know my beloved sister?

  I rolled my young eyes, no sympathy from me to them. She had clearly been a notable figure in other’s eyes, in mine she was the light in my murky world. Without that light I’m blinded by obscurity, travelling through my own visions of skepticism.

  The increments following made us aware we were alone. The house hung hollow and the creaks sung true to the relevancy that we would never hear the sweet melodies Winter chose to share with us. The cold had set in and before long we would be engulfed in frost bite. Our warmth taken away like a blanket in a blizzard. We awoke chattering at our teeth. Our shoulders shaking in disbelief and yet we will survive. Although we believe the hypothermia has begun to set in, it is our mindset that lets us know we still are roaring heat from within. Reminding us we have time to breathe. We have time to live, before it is our time to take that leap which brings us at the Reapers door.

  Crying out to our God why this had happened, we had no choice but to answer that interrogation for ourselves. Someone to listen to our purpose, someone to calm our agony and remove it from our beautiful minds.

  Ser
iatim

  6

  I'm running, it's raining. Dark shadows surround me as I try to escape, my heart pounding. I see your face in the crowd.

  "Help me," I plead to you.

  You turn away from my sorrowful eyes.

  "Winter..." I scream. "Please don't leave me."

  I chase after her, pushing through the group of people. I see her smiling waving as she begins to jump off the edge of the bridge once again. I run quickly and catch her hand, tears running down my face splashing onto her glistening smile.

  "It's time." You calmly state.

  "No, no Winter you have to get married, have kids, what about Chatt?" She shifts her weight as if she was just a floating light in front of me.