Storm

My hands turn cold when I reach for my phone. I can barely manage to take it out from my pocket. I hold my phone in my hand as my hand shakes as if I’m an old man. My fingers trembling, they are missing the buttons trying to press call. “Just press it” I tell my fingers. I can barely feel them.

My heart stopes as the ringing starts. “I’m calling her, nothing’s wrong” I try to tell myself. I call again and again. By breathing is getting short and my heart is racing, pounding on my chest. No answer.

“I was just texting her. Just a few weeks ago?” I ask myself “No, like two months ago.” No. Can that be? Can it be? I can’t imagine. I try. I try imagine. But I can’t. It just doesn’t go. It can’t. It seems too far off.

I stare back at the picture. Its hanging among all the other hundreds of pictures. Faces. Pictures of faces. That’s all that it was. But no, that’s not what it was, no.

I lock eyes with the picture. Is it her face? Is it her name? Is it her? Can it be? Just like that?

But it is. It’s there. It’s her eyes. Are they not? Her brown eyes steer right into mine. She’s there hanging on the wall. She’s there stuck with a smile on her face. She’s there hanging in a museum.  

She’s there smiling. Smiling. How can she? Why are you smiling at me?!

I don’t believe it’s true. But I can’t control it. My body takes me over. Heat comes to my face. Pressure by my eyes give way to hot tears. By body shivers. My hands shake. My heart is racing. My chest is sinking in. I feel the whole world blur out. The tears are covering my eyes.

But I don’t believe it. I can’t. No! I can’t. No! It can’t be. I pick up back my phone and start calling. Again. Again. My eyes are running with tears. I call again. Again. Then I flinch. I flinch suddenly. Last seen.

It says last seen on the screen. I look away.

~

Last seen. I see it. It’s hard to unsee it.

A pool of tears comes out. My throat is burning. I scream quietly.

I break down. The tears dripping on my face.

I Cry. I can’t hold it back.

I start walking out the room. I didn’t want to make a scene. I glance a last look at the picture. I had to. I had to make sure I wasn’t imagining. But she’s still there. There with her smile. She’s still hanging there looking at me with a smile on her face!

I look back into her eyes. I look back at her smiling face. But I can’t. I can’t.

Now I am angry. Angry that it’s true. Why!? How?! How can it be?!

But I can’t think so much. My head is filed with strain. I lower it to the ground. I can’t look at anyone. I’m not part of this world right now. I can’t. The tears can’t stop. My eyes are burning. My throat gives way to sharp whimpers and screeches. I can’t control myself.  

I sit down in this other room not even knowing where I’m going.

I put my face in my knees.

Dead. Just dead. Murdered. Suffering. Rape. Burned. Blown up. And she’s part of this!

Just no more? Gone? Dead? Just not a thing anymore?

Gone? Just gone? But more than gone. She went through the exact thing I just got horrified at. She was there. I can barely look or listen to what happened there. But she was there. She went through that. And those were her last moments alive. Along with so many.

How does that make any sense?

Fuck!

Just what the fuck?!

God? life? World? How did this happen?!

The world just crashed onto me.

Isn’t it literally the twenty-first century?

I can’t believe it. I can't.

But yet I do. I do believe it. I’m still crying like a child hiding my head in my knees. My body is still shaking. I’m still shivering. My insides are being puked out. 

I totally lost myself. It’s like I blacked out.

~

My crying would stop every so often, but start again when I realized I stopped. 

“Sunrise”. The word “sunrise” keeps coming in my mind. I pick up my head in search of it. The thought was tormenting me. “Sunrise, I love sunrises.” Who told that to me? “They are so inspiring. They fill me with hope for a new day.” Where did I hear that? Was it her? She told me that. It was, wasn’t it? Yes. It was. Her herself.

I can see it. I’m there. The last time we saw each other. I asked her what was next on her bucket list. I remember. Yes. She answered me even. “I think next is to hike the mountains in Nepal. I heard the sunrise there is amazing…I love sunrises…I love hiking up mountains at dark waiting for the new day to appear.”

“What do you like about sunrises?” My eyes blur out. Why did I ask her that?!

“It’s just so inspiring. It’s so hopeful. It’s like it says, whatever happens there will be another day to try. It’s a new beginning, a day that you can live like it’s your first. You can be just like the baby on its first day and wonder about the beauty of life itself.”

Hope for a new day! Inspiring! Seriously? Sunrise, that’s when you were murdered. Why sunrise? Why couldn’t they wait till dark to kill you?

All my emotion came as rage, I felt a fire take me over. My face was burning. Burning with rage.

Where did it go?! What happened with this sunrise?! Who did this? Who did this to your sunrise?! Answer me! Where did it go?!

The rage calmed down. Now I got back to suddenness. I feel hopeless. Like there wasn’t a point for rage. All I needed was her now. That’s what I was missing. And I was missing it, alright. It was gone. Was she not gone? Just nothing anymore?

I let my head fall again on my lap. My eyes were rivers. I cried like I never cried before. Like a baby just coming into this evil world. Yea, isn’t that why the baby cries? Yes. I finely figured that out. Just now.

I can only imagine a baby being born on that day. I try, but it’s hard to imagine what you can make of it.

I awake from myself as I feel an arm come on my back. I’m not even startled.

“It’s ok. Its ok” I hear the female voice say, as she comforts my back.

I try to speak. I can’t. My body is weak.

“Nnn nn no, it’s not” I manage to get out of my voice.

“I mean its ok to cry. Cry. Cry as much as you can.” I hear.

 I cry even stronger, letting go completely. I let go even more. It was as if nothing in the world mattered but my tears. She puts both arms around me, letting my face drop onto her chest. My crying muffled against her.

After some time, it stopped. I ran out of tears. At least that’s what I thought. My chest was sore. My eyes burning. I thought I would pass out from exhaustion if my body would cry more.

Besides my heart went slower. My breathing went slower and longer.

But I felt lost. I felt the hole in my chest. My stomach caving in my ribs.

Still, I felt betrayed by reality. I still couldn’t wrap my mind around the thoughts that came.

I awkwardly lift my head up from her body. Her hands slowly are taken off me.

“The museum is very traumatic”. She said calmly, as if to say its ok that I lost myself.

“What went on that day was horrible. Many people who visit here experience grief. Its only normal.” She smiles to comfort me.

I felt myself turn inside, but I managed to tell her. I told her everything. It took time. I couldn’t say a sentence without stopping to cry. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t believe myself, I didn’t want it to, at least yet, so to tell it to someone else was horrific. What was more horrific was that telling her made it seem real, I started to believe it. How that was unbearable.

“What was her name?” Her face saddened but curios.

“Her name?” I thought. It’s like I had to search for it. I didn’t want to let it out. It was mine. I just buried it deep into my broken chest, how can I take it out? But there it was. Her name. Yes, I didn’t forget. Her name. How could I forget?

The name came up to my throat but it was hard to find the strength to pronounce it's letters. Slowly I felt it's vibrations against my sore tongue.

“Danyelle.” The name broke out from my voice in little pieces.

I cleared my throat.

“Her name was Danyelle.”

But did she hear me?

I scream “Her name was Danyelle! Danyelle!”

I scream louder and louder.

“Do you hear me?”

Louder and louder till my voiced broke itself into tears.