Going

Nonfiction

6

Struggle

Falling through the cracks.

Praying for salvation

hoping for happiness

Hoping for a chance

to stop struggling.

My hands tremble

my voice is quiet.

So quiet

in fact,

It does not leave

my mouth.

My lips form the word of

'no'

and my head shakes,

but the word won't come.

Are you lying?

A silent no

again.

She laughs.

I feel like you're lying.

Like,

you're laying straight

to my face.

She laughs again

And so do I.

Nervousness making this

somehow funny.

Are you lying?

I laugh.

'yeah,

kinda.

It's not a big deal.'

Why?

Now,

the lies are not a

struggle.

'I don't know.'

How often?

'Not a lot.

Just a couple times

since the start of

The year.'

Where?

I glance down at

my wrist.

And she smiles.

Of course.

We fall into silence

that I hope

means we're okay.

We're not.

I can see it in her eyes.

She's hurting for me,

pitying me.

Screw it.

I pull out a sheet of paper.

Begin to write a note.

I don't remember,

now,

what I wrote.

The truth,

I suppose.

How it started again during the summer,

how it happened fall

of eleventh grade.

How it doesn't really matter

anyway.

No one can make me stop.

The bell rigs,

I throw the note.

We don't speak of it again.