Stories of Enchantment
I was welcomed with two arms around my shoulders gripping me with unapologetic force and joy, that took me back for a moment.
“Nana you make it seem like I don’t come by.” I told her as I leaned my head against hers taking in her familiar vanilla and Vaseline scent.
“Sure,” She said and stepped back, “you do come by but it’s always for a short while.” She said while she tapped my shoulder. “Now go on put your things away and come down. I made your favorite, enchiladas, rice and beans.” She said with a smile and walked into the kitchen. She was right, when I did visit, it usually meant I’d stay only for a day or two. Since I started college two years ago, I would come up with excuses to leave early, or made excuses not to come at all.
I trudged up the stairs with my suitcase in hand looking at all the mementos in the walls. It was something I always did, I figured if I familiarized myself with every inch of my house I wouldn’t forget it. It would be stored in my memory forever.
My grandparents were travelers, once upon a time. They had the house overflowing with incredible souvenirs from all the countries they visited. Trinkets that held stories of enchantment, as my nana always said. They were the most fascinating sorts of things, from life size sculptures to tiny music boxes that were the size of a quarter.
When I arrived at my door I hesitated, my hand wavering a couple inches from the knob; I was worried for some reason. I turned the knob, carefully opening the door and waited for something to attack me from behind, or for something to fall at my feet as I entered. But nothing happened, and everything was the same. My ceiling was still painted with the same sky scenery as before. The walls still painted with vines my grandpa and I made, each branch crawling through the corners in a very fairytale-esque way. My cardinal colored trunk from India was still at the foot of my bed. And my bed, my canopy cerulean sheeted bed in the middle. I moved the curtain that hung from the bars to dump my suitcase on top of it. As I laid my hands on my hips I felt a brush on my shoulders that made me turn instinctively. There was nothing there, just book cases filled with stuff.
“Alex!” I heard my nana yell.
“Going!” I yelled back. I flexed my arms upwards in an attempt to shake my nervousness off, but still felt shaky at the end of it. When I got to the dining room I saw nana, the small woman at the head of the table with silver hair and brown eyes, gesturing to my plate next to hers. God, how I missed her, and her cooking. I ate like there was a famine upon us, ravishing the tortilla concoction and it’s spicy sauce, gulping the homemade Horchata like I’d never taste it again, all the while my grandma had that smirk of hers. She knew her cooking was the best.
“So how’s school?” She asked as she sliced a piece of her own dinner.
“Good.” I said simply and put down my fork.
“Well it sure does seem you like it there since you visit so rarely” She told me and rose one of her eyebrows. “Last summer you went to South Korea, now Alex just curious...why are you here? It seems like now a days you avoid coming.”
I placed my elbows on the table, feeling fidgety and self conscious. “Grams, don’t think I’m avoiding you, it’s just I’ve had things to do. And besides Lauren is spending her Summer in Colorado with her family and I was not invited.”
My grandma chuckled and put another piece in her mouth so I continued.
“Last year I began seeing a doctor.”
“Yeah,” I said and put some hair behind my ear. “I’ve been having some problems, and I think it’s psychological.”
“Has it been helpful?”
“Uh yeah. She tells me I’ve been having a hard time because both of my parents are gone.” I told her and finally made eye contact.
“Of course they would say that. They’re psychologists, that’s what they do.” My grandparents had always been suspicious of doctors, and when my grandpa died of cancer it just made everything worse. Even if she didn’t admit it, she held a grudge against them since they couldn’t save her husband.
After having dinner with her, talking about my studies, and her misadventures with the her friend down the street, I decided to go up to my room. Even though it was noon I still felt a bit jet lag and any excuse to sleep was exactly what I wanted.
When I lied down on my bed I stared at my wall, something I did often. It was like the ceiling held the secret to the meaning of life and if it was stared at long enough it would let you in on the secret. It never did, but I still stared at it.
“Alejandra.” I felt it as he whispered my name against my ear, his breath felt like a warm breeze that fluttered my heart.
“Steven.” I whispered back more of a statement than a question. I felt his fingertips on my neck lightly hovering so I looked over to him and found him on his side propped up on his elbow smiling.
“How did you know I was here?” I asked him.
“A little bird told me.” He gathered a piece of my hair and twirled it around his fingers. I stared at him for a while, reminding myself of all the times we shared together. His short cropped hair and the way it felt against my skin as I messed with it. His blue-green eyes that reminded me of a water color painting. And the way his lips quipped when he was excited.
“I’ve missed you.” I told him and tried to hide my smile. I tried to avoid anything that was to overly sensitive with him, because he always had a way to use it against me.
“Me too. I thought you’d never come back.”
“I thought so too, to be honest.” He looked over to the vines of the wall and squinted his eyes, something he did when he was debating something in his mind.
“So why did you? The last time, you said you’d never let me in again. And you are. I don’t understand Ale.”
“Let’s not talk about that Steven.” I said in an attempt to leave the subject behind. “Hey I know, let’s go down to our place, you remember?” Steven and I had always had our secret hiding place, as a nine year old a place like our own was what I always wanted. Our place was deep in the woods where the biggest oak tree stood, tall and mighty with a presence that called attention, no that demanded it, with it’s branches expanded above in a rooftop gesture. It was odd because the tree were surrounded by Baby’s Breath that created an orb around it. This was the place we always went to, we could have fun by goofing around or by silently sitting next to each other picking our favorite flowers.
“Of course! Dude Ale, how can I forget. I still go there you know.” He took my hand and pulled me up from my bed and dragged me to the door.
“Wait, hold on.” I said with a small chuckle. “I need a sweater.” I walked over to the side of the bed where I had left my carry on and looked through until I found a three quarter sleeved cardigan in silver.
“I remember when I got you this.” I heard Steven say from my dresser.
“What?” I asked as I lopped my arms through the sleeves. I saw what Steven was holding and it was a small crown he got me a couple of years ago. It was one of those tiny ones that looked ironic once it was put on the head. He had gotten himself one too, but his was average sized.
“Oh that. I do remember, you blindfolded me and took me to the tree, I almost fell a couple of times.” He laughed and spun it around his fingers.
“Worth the look on your face.”
“I bet.” I said and watched him play with my crown which transported me back in time to when he gave it to me. I was about fifteen, unknowing and curious, so when Steven said he had something for me then, I jumped to to the offer. We used our crowns as a tool to pretend to be something we weren’t to hide our fears, to distract us from a harsh world. A world that had been cruel to us many times despite our young age.
Steven had been though a lot. When he was a toddler his parents died in a car crash so he was moved to foster care since he had no other family. There, he often ran away from his home until the government placed him with Margaret, a sweet old lady that loved Steven like his own grandchild. Steven didn’t runaway from her. He told me once that ever since the first day he was here with her, he felt something special in this place so he decided to stay with her. I guess it was meant to be.
We bonded on that level because my parents also died when I was small too, I was just nine then. They were at a business meeting pitching their idea for a collaborative children's book at the Trade Center in 2001. It was like we were both lost children in this world with no clear destination. We had our grandparents but we also had each other, and that was a connection as deep as a blood one. We were both scared of life, of where it was taking us, so we basically had a mid life crisis as teenagers and we resolved it by creating a different world where only we existed. That was one of the best times of my life, to not care where I was or what I was doing. Just to live. But then I graduated high school early and decided to apply to college and try to make something of myself. He chose to stay here.
“Here I have yours too.” I walked over to my trunk and rummaged through my belongings until I found an old shoe box at the bottom. I lifted the lid and found the makeshift crown that belonged to him and put in my bag along with mine. “Let’s go.” When we passed my vanity I quickly grabbed my polaroid and shoved it inside my purse and down we went to the living room. We heard my grandma singing in Spanish while she washed the dishes but I decided not to tell her anything and just left carelessly with Steven. As we made our way down to our hang out spot, Steven used this time to tell me of his adventures these past years.
“Aaron is such an idiot, thinking he can out do me in bike racing. I am God in races.”
“God? If I remember correctly I beat you the last time we raced.” I said smugly and walked alongside him. I watched the grass below my shoes and recognized each plant, each bush, and each shrub.
“Yeah but that was back then. I’m boss now. Well I’ve always been boss but now it’s more apparent.”
“You’re so stupid.” I told him and shoved his shoulder. When we made it into the end of my backyard we hopped over the cement wall, our feet thumped on the ground when we finally hit the ground.
The view was different, the shrubs and plants were definitely taller and the trees hovered much more menacingly than before.
“Does it feel weird to be here again?” He asked me as he placed his hands on his hips. He always had a mocking expression on his face, like everything he said was a joke. But honestly if this was a joke, what I’m feeling, I would have laughed a long time ago.
“No.” I lied. Even though my body ached. My head, it hurt. And my heart, was in bliss. My heart wanted to stay here grab Steven by the arms and dance with him. Part of my mind wanted to jump him and tackle him to the floor with kisses, the other part wanted to punch that motherfucker in the face. But I settled with a push on the arms. “Lead the way.”
“Cuz you forgot?”
“Steven just go!”
“Alright, alright.” He said and stepped in front of me, but then he stopped. He looked back and held his hand out to me so I took it. He held my hand the whole way, guided me through the branches and twigs that tried to stab me. The more we walked the more green it became and the scenery differed, first we were in my backyard in Northern CA, the next minute we were in a garden somewhere in Europe. I could see the Baby’s Breath now, setting a path to the tree. I could see the other pastel colored flowers that also trailed along the Baby’s Breath, it was a Wizard of Oz moment. Steven pulled at my hand and made me walk a bit faster, I felt him getting more antsy as he sped up his own pace. My eyes wandered from the back of his neck to the environment around us. Apologizing silently for neglecting them, I knew this was a place I could find refuge in.
Steven then stopped walking and as I stepped away from his back I saw our tree. The big ol’ oak tree I had thought about while I was away every single day. I felt Steven staring at me as my lips formed a smile.
“It’s missed you too.” He said quietly. I let go of his hand and went over to my old friend, our old friend that knew of all our secrets. I placed my hand gently on the bark and traced a line a couple of centimeters down. I felt Steven next to me, the way his heat just bounced on to my skin, as if it was reflecting sunlight into me. His lips the brushed the skin under my ears and whispered, “I missed you too, Ale.”
“You’ve said that already.” I said with a shake in my voice.
“I know.” I turned around to face him and saw the way his eyes rimmed with red.
“Come, let’s lay down.” I said before anything emotional happened. We lied down next to each other without a word and a few minutes went by to cool the moment. I moved my bag from my side to my lap and took our crowns out and gave Steven’s his while I kept mine. I placed the miniature thing on the side of my head and used the clips to hold it to my hair. Steven just put it around his and it stayed automatically since it was actually human sized. “There, we’re king and queen again.” I said with a clap of my hands.
“Finally, I was quite lonely being king all by myself.”
“Oh, quit complaining” I teased him.
“I’m not complaining! I’m just saying.”
“Right. Right. Oh I brought my camera, let me take a picture of you.” I reached for my bag and took out my white Nikon Instant camera.
“No wait I want to take a picture of you first.” He suggested and reached out to grab it from me.
“Fine.” I said and handed him my camera on my own terms. He pressed it to his face, got up, and angled himself above me. He snapped the first picture, grabbed it as it came out from the top and let it fall to the ground. “Do something with your crown...my queen.”
“That’s right show me respect, peasant!”
“Hey I’m married to you, I’m king.”
“So? I’m boss, doesn’t matter if you’re king, I rule above you here. You should be happy I’m not cutting off your head.”
“Fine.” He replied sadly. I did what he ordered and artistically, well at least attempted to be artistic, placed my hands above me calling attention to my crown on my head. “Beautiful.” He said and moved the camera away from his eyes. We stared at each other a while, conscious that he was straddling me with his legs, but not until I tapped his knees did he waver his stare.
“Off. My turn.” I took the camera from him and with shaky and hesitant fingers clicked the button. As soon as it came out I took it out and put in my bag before the picture became clear. After staring at my bag for a while I put the camera down next to us. I stayed straddling his legs and picked a stem from the soil in the spot next to us to breathe in the scent. It was a familiar scent that allowed many memories to seep into my mind like someone switching the light on in a dark night. I remembered when we watched a meteor shower here as we laid on the grass atop warm sheets. Or when we brought food and clothes for two days and camped out. And when I had my first kiss with him. And the first time I made love. As I thought of all the explicit details I felt heat coming off of me, so I shook my head and tried to think of something else.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know.” I replied.
“I would because I believe we are thinking the same thing.” I lowered my face to meet his eyes and found him inches away from me. “The first time my lips touched yours,” he said and looked up at my lips. “The way your lips tasted of chocolate because you had a Tootsie Pop, and how soft they felt.” I reasoned with myself that it would be okay to kiss him, to be in the moment with him for a while longer because life right now, was not how I wanted it to be. So I let myself enjoy it. I leaned into him and felt his lips on mine, careful at first like he was testing the water. His hand moved to my neck and massaged his way down to my back, easing me into oblivion with him.
His mouth sucked lightly on my upper lip, like he was trying to make the kiss longer than it should be. He moved to my bottom lip, while his hands went under my cardigan and then my dress. He lifted his body and pressed into me and stopped kissing me. I laid my head on top of his and waited for his next move.
“Alejandra, I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? For what? If anything I’ve been the idiot here.”
“No. It’s always been me, I was so unsupportive and I just want to tell you that I’m not going to be that guy-”
“Stop. Let’s just do this okay?” I kissed his nose and held his face in my hands, his skin as soft as the last time I was with him. He smiled that cocky smile of his and took the sleeves of my sweater and pulled. I tried to do this smoothly, I struggled to take my sweater off but finally managed. He then pulled the ends of my white dress upward and I helped him out and took the dress of myself.
Being in my underwear in front of him after two years, felt like the first time all over again. Self concious and insecure, a little girl in a big world it seemed. But the way he looked me right in my eyes, made all my fears go away. I reached down to his shirt and pushed it up swiftly finishing with his pants. Once they were off, he carried me up with him and walked to a spot where the dirt was bedded by lush grass, where he lied me down promptly. He positioned himself on top off me and kissed my shoulder. His lips kissed the curve of my neck while his hands unclasped my bra, and my hands roamed his chest. This was something I craved, his touch and I knew I would have to cherish it deeply.
“Look our mighty swords.” He said and got up, he wasn’t shy about his body so he didn’t bother with his clothes. He picked up two long twigs and threw one at me. “Shall we?” He asked and quipped his lips just like I knew he would do.
“No!” Even if I was nineteen I always acted like a child around Steven, no matter the circumstance. I could be pissed, depressed, worried, but Steven always got the child out of me. So I took my dress, put in over my head, gripped the edge of the twig and walked over to him as threateningly as I could.
“Prepare to die Steven.”
“Well then Ms. Montejano, I’d like to see you try first.” I edged to his right but he blocked my twig from touching him. So I edged under, but no, he still got it. He wasn’t happy playing defense so he tried to strike me in the stomach but I blocked him and swayed his sword to the side. I moved back, I moved towards him, but nothing could phase him. We moved for a while longer taking turns blocking our attacks, flamboyantly twirling around with impressive moves that got us nowhere. Until I thought of a tactic. In the middle of a long rally I moved my eyes down to where his ahem, goods were, and made my eyes look hopeful.
“Wow,” I sighed. He then looked down quickly.
“Impressed are you- Hey!” I struck him right in his knee cap until he fell and with my twig touched the part where his heart would be.
“Ha, you cocky bastard. In more ways than one.” I said and raised my eyebrow.
“You got me.”
“Yep. The queen prevails once again.” I held my hand to him and threw his clothes at him.
“Get changed, we should go back.”
“Why it’s early. We can still go for a next round in two different things.” He said and twirled a piece of my hair. As he stood there in front of me, just coming off of sex and sword fighting, I debated leaving after all.
This was good, life like this was good. Was I willing to throw all of this away? All I could do was wait and see what courage would allow me to do.
“I have to tell you something.”
“What is it?” He said seriously and buttoned up his pants.
“Nothing bad. Just hurry.”
“Fine milady.” He changed into his shirt and shoes and began walking with me. This time I was leading, and I was the one feeling antsy. I could tell because I started getting hot and my hands were beginning to sweat, I had to wipe repeatedly to get them back to normal. I knew Steven noticed I was speculating, I felt it in the way he answered my questions in one word answers and how he complained I was rushing every five seconds.
When we entered the house I noticed a yellow sticky note from my grandma pasted on the coffee table, saying she went in to town for groceries. I was happy to know she wouldn’t be around, I really didn’t think it would have been good with her here anyways.
I stomped upstairs and by the noise Steven was making I knew he was stomping too. We went inside and I waited for him to get comfortable, he hesitated but he finally resided in the corner of my bed.
“So what is it?” He began and traced a circle on on my bed without looking at me. It took a deep breath, a count down from ten to make me a bit more relaxed. My therapist told me to do that, she said it would calm me down but it really wasn’t doing it’s job. Why do doctors think their little quirks help the rest of the world? I don't know, maybe they think it makes them sound experienced.
“Just say it. Don’t hold back, I can take it.”
“No you can’t.”
“What do you mean I can’t?”
“Steven, just shut up. Let me talk.”
“Fine. Fine. Fine. That’s what you always say.”
“Okay Ale, chill.”
“Okay, sorry. I ah, I’m not sure how to start.” I told him. He stopped fidgeting and leaned his head on his hands as they rested on his knees. I closed my eyes and formed the sentences in my mind like a script, but I didn’t have the guts to speak my lines. “I’ve been seeing a therapist. I told her about these weird dreams I used to have, told her it was interfering with my life. She prescribed some pills for me, and they worked nicely, they stopped my dreams and everything.” I said breathlessly making rushed gestures with my hands that flew all over the place. “But I also told her about you.”
“What about me?” He asked slowly as he raised his head away from his hands in a more serious posture.
“Steven, when we’re growing up, we believe we can live in fairytales. That everything will be alright if we just believe we are actually living these lives.”
“Are you talking about being King and Queen? I know that’s make believe, Ale. You don’t have to tell me.” He said to me and chuckled.
“No, no. I’m talking about you. How you are my fairytale. How you don’t exist.”
“Don’t say that!” He yelled and rose up. “Don’t you ever say that.”
“You’re not real. I made you up because of all those fairytale stories my grandma used to tell me. When I told my doctor that I still talked to my imaginary friend she told me to take these pills whenever I saw you again, that they would calm me and make you go away.” I went over to my bag and took out the bottle of pills I got from the pharmacy and waved it at him. “So that’s what I need to do, maybe that’ll be the way to make you leave.”
“I can’t go away if you keep believing in me, if you keep letting me in. I can be real.” He pleaded.
“But you’re not, you’re not real, don’t you get that? You were never real Steven, you were always up here.” I said and pointed to my head. “I’ve always felt so crazy talking to you. You know what would happen if I told people about you? They’d laugh at me then lock me up in a psychiatric ward.”
“But I have a past, I have Margaret, you can’t fake that.” He said.
“I made those things up about you so I could connect with you.”
“You can make me real Ale, don’t shut me out.” He told me as he came closer.
“I have to. And with these.” I tried to unscrew the top of the bottles when I felt Steven’s hands trying to pry them off my fingers. “No Steven! What are you doing?!”
“I don’t want you to leave me. I don’t want to be alone.”
“Let go! I have to do this. I have to in order to move on with my life. You were my way of coping I know that now, but instead of growing out of it, I was sucked into it.” I tried to keep my hold of the bottles but instead the pills came flying out and fell to the gray carpet. “Steven!” On the floor it seemed like it snowed pills, each one in clusters all over my room, reminding me of the many reasons I had to take them.
Steven was my imaginary friend. When my grandparents went to Europe many years ago my grandma brought me a caricature of a boy with cropped hair and blue green eyes that wore a blue jumpsuit. She always had a story to tell me about all the things she brought, so she told me this figurine's name was Steven Kingsley. He was a prince who was to take the throne after his dad died, but was so childish in personality that the court debated even giving him the crown. So I used that story of Steven Kingsley and put my own twist on it when I was a child. I would look at the little toy and imagine him having adventures with me since I was so lonely after my parent's death. Then one day I began seeing him.
Everything about him I made up, his parents dying, a grandmother figure taking care of him, running away. I made him into what I wanted him to be in a matter of seconds. I went to the woods with him and played, sung, danced with him too. When I became a teenager I still saw him. Steven became real to me, the attachment grew so much I began to think of him as a real person, and as a man. He grew along with me and we shared a common attraction, I made him my lover.
One night while I sat in my bed thinking about what had happened earlier, how we first made love, something righted itself again. I remembered the figurine and how he wasn’t real, but my imagination. A fucked up imagination at that. So I decided to apply to school and try to get away from him, away from the idea of him. But that didn’t work. I still dreamt of him, until I became psychically sick and had to see a doctor. That’s where I met Dr. Levinson, who told me how unhealthy it was to still keep Steven around. I learned many things on those visits, I realized I was unable to create lasting relationships and of my fear of imperfection. It made sense because Steven was my creation, making him my perfection.
“Steven.” I whined and got down on my knees to gather them.
“Please Ale, don’t do this. Don’t take these damn things, they’ll keep us apart.” He slumped down to the floor with me and took my hands.
“That’s what I want.” I whispered to the ground. He looked down to our joined hands and gently massaged my fingers in a calming gesture.
“Is that what you truly want?”
“Yes.” I answered and held my breath.
“What happens to us?”
“I don’t know. But Steven, I’ll always remember you. You are my best friend.” I met his eyes and saw the way they became watery, and felt my own become the same.
“You’ll forget about me, I know it.” He protested softly breaking eye contact. He wiped at his eyes, frustrated that tears still produced.
“Steven look at me.” I said and lifted his chin. “I will never forget you. Never.”
“But I won’t be here anymore. We won’t go down to our tree. We won’t be King and Queen.”
“I know. But I have to grow up. And so do you.”
“I can’t. Only if you make me.” He said stubbornly and made me smile.
“I love you.” I told him and touched his lips with my finger tips.
“I love you too, Alejandra. I’ll always love you.” He rose his upper body so he could tower over me and pressed his lips on mine and gently bit my lips in a teasing gesture. He held me from my waist and hoisted me up from the floor as he too stood up. His hands moved down to my hips and he gripped, carefully walking towards my bed where he lied on top of me. His tongue was slow, tasting each millimeter of my lips, of my own tongue, of my skin.
I had three pills in my enclosed fist, one more than what was prescribed, but I knew would make it easier.
“Alright Ale, as your king I release you from your duties.”
“Does that mean I won’t be your queen anymore?”
“You’ll always be my queen. God that was cheesy.”
He still lingered above me and watched me as I placed the pills on my tongue and swallowed them. I stared at his eyes, and his face in general, trying to focus solely on him so I wouldn't forget his features. I began to feel my eyelids droop a little and everything get hazy. My vision got blurry in the way that made everything in gray scale and fuzzy, like an old camera.
“I’m sleepy.” I told him and rubbed my eyes.
“You’ll fall asleep eventually, you took three.”
“But I want to say goodbye, just in case this does work properly.”
“We will trust me.” He gave me one last kiss, a small peck and pressed his arms around me. “This is just like Sleeping Beauty, except my kiss won’t wake you, but put you to sleep.” As he moved away from my face, I watched his eyes get squinty and sneaky, telling of all those times we had together. “I’ll see you again Ale, I promise.” He said and I closed my eyes.
When I woke up hours later I was under my sheets tucked in with my stuffed bunny next to me. It wore glasses and held a clock. I then heard someone turning the knob so I blinked away the grogginess just in time to see my grandma with my breakfast. She held a tray with pancakes, fruit, milk and coffee and left it on my nightstand.
“Hey sleepyhead.” She cooed.
“You seem tired, what did you do yesterday? I hope you didn’t tire out fully.” she asked curiously. She sat down next to me and waited for my answer.
“Grams, do you remember Steven?”
“Oh that boy.” She said and pointed to the toy on my dresser. I smiled and nodded. “What about it?”
“I just remembered how you used to tell me stories about him, and about anything really.”
“Oh yes, when I used to bring you all those things. Well now that I don’t travel I don’t have things to tell you stories about.”
“You used to say that Alice could be any girl, too.”
“Yes, I remember.”
“Do you still believe that?”
“Of course I do! Especially girls with creative minds like yours, always so imaginative. Now you eat, it’s rude if you don’t, and later come down so we can go pick out berries together.”
“Well then I’ll see you later mija.” She said and left.
The room was suddenly quiet. I could hear the rustling of the leaves outside. I could here my breathing and how calm and peaceful I felt. I still felt lonely. I think all those years with Steven I was always lonely but I willed myself to believe so otherwise. I wondered whether I would actually stop seeing Steven. Then I doubted myself. What if he was real? What if me thinking he was imaginary was false? Did he really exist?
I remembered my camera and the pictures I took of yesterday, so I raced out of bed to the the spot where my pills fell. My pills weren’t on the floor anymore, they were in my vanity all inside the bottle. And my bag was sitting in a chair waiting. Waiting for me I suppose. I grabbed my bag, held it in my hands for a while, not sure if I was ready for this.
I took out a picture, it was the one of me with my crown and hands up on my head. Okay, so I did do that, but who took it. Obviously I couldn’t since I had both hands on my head, so...? I took another one out with my eyes closed, this could be the picture, I thought. I bullied myself into finally opening my eyes and when I did, I saw...nothing. A picture of the ground. An empty spot in the ground. But I did take a picture of Steven. I remembered that I did. I emptied out all contents of my bag on the floor and got the other picture of me and that’s all I found. Only three were taken, two of me, one of Steven and that polaroid is empty.
So I was right, he didn’t exist. Does this make me sane or insane? That I didn't want answered, so I left it undisclosed.
I pressed my arms around me tightly in a form of a one sided hug. I’m was so scared about the future that I couldn't even breathe. I was away from him for two years and almost self destructed, and those years were the worst because I went cold turkey and left my drug of choice at home. I was an addict, but for fantasy. A fantasy that kept me away from life,where I was only able to make one real friend and wasted the rest.
Fairytales are beautiful, but living in one can condemn me to a two dimensional reality, and I just couldn't do that to myself.
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