Flashbacks (3)

Bridget couldn’t remember ever feeling this bad.  Too tired, too hurt to move; even crying was too much work.  She wanted to die, but even that was too hard for her to do.

Bridget was certain something was wrong, but she couldn’t figure out what.  She puzzled over it the whole day.  Late that night, she woke up, and realized it was her lists.  She had quit making them.  Lists were one way to keep everything organized.  In a strange way, they held her together.

Bridget sat at the computer.  The people in her story were still nameless.  To keep track, she would call them by letters.  A.  B.  C.  That was gonna have to change someday.

“You better be careful.”
“Why?”
"You’re going to fall out of that tree if you’re not.”
“No.” Bridget laughed. “I won’t fall.”

Eyes closed, she tried to picture his face when he had said that.  His exact expression.  The way he had worded it.  Everything.  It couldn’t have all been a lie.  It had to be true.

Jordan was on the phone.  They were talking about last Christmas.  Jordan said something, and Bridget started laughing so hard, tears ran down her cheeks.

What was it about memories that made her want to laugh and cry at the same time?  Why did she want to kill the memories that were the best?

“Just tell me one thing that’s true.  Please, I just need one thing that’s not a lie.”  Bridget never cried in front of people, but she couldn’t help it this time.

Bridget was a night owl.  She always had been.  The bad thing about it was there was too much time to think at night.

Everybody’s got a breaking point.  Bridget wondered where hers was.

She dreamed of death that night.  Not hers.  Everyone else’s.  And she was the only one left.

Sunshine warmed Bridget’s face, and the grass tickled her neck.  She smiled.  This was good.

Bridget knew she was in trouble the moment she saw the car coming.  Her heart started pounding, and she froze.  Then she turned and walked as if nothing was wrong, fighting the impulse to run until her legs gave out.  Afterwards, she wondered if maybe running would have been better.

“Please, I didn’t mean it.  You deserved it, but I didn’t mean it.” she thought.  She didn’t say a word, though.

Bridget slammed the door behind her.  Really, who cared, anyway?  It was her life.

Bridget felt so good, it was all she could do not to laugh from sheer joy.  Instead, she grinned for all she was worth, and walked like the world was hers.