You need to move on, she says. Forget it and get on with your life.
I smile smile smile at her, pull the covers further around my shoulders. In order to forget, I tell her, I'd have to remember. And no no no I most certainly do not remember.
(more)
She smiles back, her whispers of praise dribbling down her cheek, soaking into her pillow. I turn around, facing where the wall should be, looking at the blackness before me, a dark static of shadows shadows shadows, jumping around.
We are silent for a minute. Her breathing gets deeper. She is about to drift off. I am not. I can not. Because because because
I do remember because because because
I cannot forget the
hands hands hands all around me on me suffocating me dark dark dark holding me down pinning me to the grounds screams screams screams stopped in my throat pain pain pain and blood blood blood and his laughter laughter laughter and
I slam down a wall that crumbles crumbles crumbles with each breath she takes.
We lay in silence for a few more minutes. As the last of my wall shatters shatters shatters I shatter her silence silence silence with my words.
But if I do remember, I whisper, each word a bomb shaking the house no matter how quietly I speak, the how would I go about forgetting?
She takes in a sharp breath.
You just do, she says. You just... forget.
She falls asleep shortly after.
I do not. I can can can not.(less)
