Drowning

Storming into her house, Brooklyn climbed the stairs two at a time. Scowling, she passed her brother's room where music was escaping from and overflowing into the hallway. Brooklyn slammed her bedroom door closed, causing the pictures on the wall to shake. Kicking the piles of clothes out of her way, Brooklyn made her way over to her vanity. Shoving her lengthy brown hair out of her eyes, Brooklyn threw her school bag on top of her vanity and collapsed in the patterned chair. The design was the one she had picked out when she was in China Town and it was different than anything she had ever seen. He was different than anything she had even seen. Choking on her emotions, Brooklyn was once again overwhelmed by the situation that she was trying to throw under her bed and forget. Normally radiating confidence, Brooklyn wanted nothing more than to shrink out of her flawless skin and blow across the country like a tumble weed- no emotions, no hurting, no destination and no fear of being hurt. No one would know who she was and no one would make faulty assumptions. Because in the end, it's the assumptions that makes everything so difficult. The assumption that everything would last forever. The assumption that He would be there always. The assumption that there was a We in the future. Raising her head ever so slightly, Brooklyn's gaze was met by the sun streaming through her window. How could the world still be acting like nothing was different when everything had changed? It seemed as if the world was mocking her, as if the weather had teamed up against her and was providing beautiful conditions because and only because Brooklyn herself was feeling as if she were drowning. Drowning in her emotions, feeling as if she were sinking to the bottom of the ocean without anything holding her back. Maybe drowning would be better. If she were drowning, then she wouldn't be able to think about anything else. She wouldn't feel anything else. She would just slowly see less and less of the outside world and then eventually she would just see nothingness. Brooklyn pulled herself out of her thoughts and yanking the blinds down, she walked over to her bed and sagged down into it. Looking at the pictures on her head board, Brooklyn felt as if another person was in the pictures instead of herself. Could she really have been that happy and care free and trusting then? Her eyes landed on one picture in particular, a picture, a snapshot that captured the best three months, two weeks and five days of her life. Just glancing at the picture was enough to make her crumble. Instead of trying to bottle up her emotions like she was forced to do during the three long periods after It, Brooklyn curled up into a ball under her blanket. Within seconds, she was sobbing. Mascara running down her face and surely onto her sheets, Brooklyn had opened the floodgates and didn't plan on stopping the water from flowing. Brooklyn sobbed and began shaking because the world had been ripped out from beneath her feet. She cried until she felt empty. She felt as if her heart had been ripped from her body, which in a way, it had been. Her entire reason for living was no longer there. Though she felt numb, it wasn't the good kind of numb people feel when they get a cavity filled. Instead, this kind of numb felt like she was watching this happen to someone else and she just felt nothing. No empathy or sympathy for them, just nothing. However, she decided that feeling nothing was as close as she could get to drowning, which is exactly what she wanted to do.