June 20th 2018
"Baby," Melissa said with a portion of Hamburger Helper chicken chilli in a bowl, "you have to eat."
"I'm just not hungry, mom."
"Then at least let me come in," Melissa knocked on the door again, "please."
Melissa heard shuffling inside of her daughter's room. The door opened, revealing a red Ophelia with droopy eyelashes and with snot coming out of her nose. Ophelia was down with some type of sickness. It was probably a common cold, but due to the situation, it made her look like a patient in palliative care.
"Can I sit on your bed?"
"Sure."
Ophelia guided her mother through her room. It wasn't a big room, but it was Ophelia's and she loved it. She had thorougly cleaned it several time in the past month whenever Lucas came over. She never bothered to clean it before that. Ophelia started to like it, but when Lucas went missing, the methodical cleaning of her room was now a memory of the past. Clothes were piled up into two different piles, some were the clean clothes pile and the others was the dirty clothes. Ophelia had done the laundry every since she had come back, just not hers. Melissa knew the feeling, she had done the same.
"Here," she passed the bowl to Ophelia, "can I tell you a story?"
"Is it a sad one?"
"Kinda." Melissa bit her lip. She knew what was Ophelia going through. It had been the same with her. "But, I want you to know I understand what you are going through."
"Someone you know got kidnapped by SOTF?" Ophelia had said the s-word. Nobody wanted to say it, or even think about it, but Ophelia knew. Everybody knew it, but only Ophelia acknowledged it with her voice.
"No." Melissa scratched her head. The puzzle of what became her daughter was slowly becoming more and more complicated. She had to weigh her words. "But, my neighbor went missing in the 90's."
"Hmh?"
"You know, dad and I met in Cincinnati. It was... nice." She smiled, reminiscencing of the old times. "But, before that, I lived in Canton."
Ophelia started to nibble the chicken. She wasn't hungry, but the curious was eating her up.
"My neighbor went missing and... he was never found. His name's Joey Williams. It was in the 1991 so like... no Internet or texting or whatever. He suddenly went missing and then people started showing up dead. They were all men, just like Joey, and they... were just dead."
Ophelia squinted. She never heard this story.
"We waited for months and months for Joey to pop up. We knew he was... probably dead in the wilderness somewhere. He used to bring me and my sister to fish with him in this... weird secluded area. It was the 90's so you know, that was kinda normal. When the guy, the serial killer who had killed all the other men, was arrested... we thought 'oh... now we'll know where's Joey.'"
Ophelia had no idea what her mom was going on about. She wondered what was her endgame plan with this, what kind of moral would come out from that.
"Thomas... Thomas Dillon, I think? Never said anything about him, but we just knew it was him. Everybody knew, but nobody said anything because Joey... wasn't technically dead. I searched for him. He was like the second dad in my life. Obviously, it was strange because I was still in high school and I was searching for this thirty year old guy in the wilderness, but I still did it."
Melissa managed to keep her voice clear, but her face was starting to contort from her emotions. She sighed.
"Point is: I never found anything. I didn't find a clue, I didn't get closure, he's still missing. Nothing changed from those nights I spent searching for him in my rainboots." She rolled her eyes backward. "Fuck. It really sucked."
"I didn't get anything. It wasn't... wasted time, but it was wasted energy. Does that make sense? I could have like... I don't know, wrote a book about it. Something productive. Like, yeah, I could have totally found him, but in the end, nothing happened. Perhaps, he's not even dead. Maybe he's just... hiding in New Mexico."
Melissa shrugged. She put her hand on her daughter's shoulder. Ophelia was warm. She was still sitting there, not speaking, listening to the words of Melissa's story.
"I know you are going to do the same. You are going to search for him, no matter what I say or do. I just want you to know it's going to suck, and you'll probably cry everyday, but you have to know something." Melissa brushed her hand over Ophelia's bald head. Her hair starting to grow again. "It gets better."
Our Love Is Vintage
ophelia meanwhile
July 13th 2018
"I'm sorry Lucas. I don't think we'll be able to do that."
"I'm sorry Lucas. I don't think we'll be able to do that."
June 12th 2018
August 30th 2020
And I loved him;
I loved him so much that my heart shattered;
I'm not sure I'll ever find the pieces
of him to fix it
but he's somewhere,
I know I can't wait for him,
but a part of me wants to;
So I decided to leave him.
by Aliza Scud
And I loved him;
I loved him so much that my heart shattered;
I'm not sure I'll ever find the pieces
of him to fix it
but he's somewhere,
I know I can't wait for him,
but a part of me wants to;
So I decided to leave him.
by Aliza Scud
June 14th 2020
"I miss him." Ophelia said, burying her nose in the crook of Lydia's neck. This position was pure comfort. Their skin against each other was a reminder that Ophelia was alive and that she was loved and that nobody would hurt them here. She was safe.
"I know, honey," their lover replied with a sweet tone. They dragged their index finger against Ophelia's recent buzzcut. Lydia had done this. After spending so much time in the same apartment while the world was falling apart, they had to learn how to do things they didn't think they would have to do.
Lydia pressed their lips against Ophelia's browbone two times, kissing their love sweetly.
"I miss him all the time and," she was sobbing. It had been hours before Ophelia managed to speak about it. Lydia knew about this but not in any specific way. It had been brought up at a party accidentally. Ophelia had vaguely mentioned that most of her high school class was... gone. Yes, gone. That's how she had said it. Lydia asked and Ophelia pushed back her short hair behind her ear and whispered something about how they were all dead.
Lydia didn't need to connect the dots because Ophelia explained it for her. Her classmates were all dead. Everyone she was raised it with were all dead and she didn't want to take any part of this. Lydia was brought back from the memory as their little sweet heart continued spewing her heart, "I still love him."
The words didn't sting anymore. When they first started dating, it was truly unexpected. This very gay woman crying once a month about her best friend who she totally had a crush rang a lot of bells in Lydia's mind. They dragged their chin across Ophelia's chin as they huddled up underneath the blanket at the memory. It was almost funny until Ophelia explained the context. He had been one of the victims of the terrorist attack. The words stopped stinging at that moment, but Lydia's heart was still painful.
"I miss him," Ophelia repeated, "I want- I wanted to see him happy with someone he loved. I didn't care who. He- he was so important to me and now he's gone."
"Shh," Lydia whispered with their syrupy voice, "let it all out, honey."
Ophelia continued to sob. She did that once a year now, around the same time. It was always around the 13th. Almost like clockwork, Ophelia's mood took a nose dive.
"It's just-" Ophelia rubbed her face against Lydia's neck. They were so warm. Ophelia needed this. "He was hurting a lot, and I could have made it better. I could have done something. I could have kissed him and- and-"
The guilt broke Ophelia's voice. Her sobs returned, her eyes flooding with tears. Lydia kissed their lover again, their lips against Ophelia's forehead. Their thumb circle against Ophelia's back, pushing her closer to their body.
"I didn't. He died alone and he died angry." She whispered. "And I know it's not my fault, I know it's nobody's fault than those terrorists who did that to him, but fuck, why does it hurt so much? Why does it feel like I'm such a terrible person?"
Lydia moved their body away from Ophelia, cupping her face with her hands. Ophelia looked away with shame. She hated this. It made her feel like a child.
"Look at me," Lydia said, "babe, please."
Ophelia turned her eyes toward them, filled with tears and sadness.
"I love you, I love you so much and I'm so proud of you," it was Lydia's turn to crumple underneath the feeling, "you've been through so much and you're still going and everyday you get better."
Lydia's eyes started to tear up. Their lips quivered, but they continued.
"You feel guilty because you care, you care about people's feelings, you care about their lives and their happiness," Lydia remembered their first time in their car where Ophelia's smile was the brightest thing they had ever seen, "you're a good person who went through a lot of things."
Lydia remembered when Ophelia gave her the key to her apartment. It was a small step. She didn't let anyone get near her, both physically and mentally. She was prickly with her personality jabbing people when they got too close to her. For some reason though, Lydia managed to get through her defenses.
"If it hurts, it means you're healing," Lydia's tears went down their cheeks and unto Ophelia's, "your wounds are closing and I'm so, so proud of you."
Ophelia's smile was the lighthouse lighting up the storm, and Lydia couldn't help but press their lips against her.
"I miss him." Ophelia said, burying her nose in the crook of Lydia's neck. This position was pure comfort. Their skin against each other was a reminder that Ophelia was alive and that she was loved and that nobody would hurt them here. She was safe.
"I know, honey," their lover replied with a sweet tone. They dragged their index finger against Ophelia's recent buzzcut. Lydia had done this. After spending so much time in the same apartment while the world was falling apart, they had to learn how to do things they didn't think they would have to do.
Lydia pressed their lips against Ophelia's browbone two times, kissing their love sweetly.
"I miss him all the time and," she was sobbing. It had been hours before Ophelia managed to speak about it. Lydia knew about this but not in any specific way. It had been brought up at a party accidentally. Ophelia had vaguely mentioned that most of her high school class was... gone. Yes, gone. That's how she had said it. Lydia asked and Ophelia pushed back her short hair behind her ear and whispered something about how they were all dead.
Lydia didn't need to connect the dots because Ophelia explained it for her. Her classmates were all dead. Everyone she was raised it with were all dead and she didn't want to take any part of this. Lydia was brought back from the memory as their little sweet heart continued spewing her heart, "I still love him."
The words didn't sting anymore. When they first started dating, it was truly unexpected. This very gay woman crying once a month about her best friend who she totally had a crush rang a lot of bells in Lydia's mind. They dragged their chin across Ophelia's chin as they huddled up underneath the blanket at the memory. It was almost funny until Ophelia explained the context. He had been one of the victims of the terrorist attack. The words stopped stinging at that moment, but Lydia's heart was still painful.
"I miss him," Ophelia repeated, "I want- I wanted to see him happy with someone he loved. I didn't care who. He- he was so important to me and now he's gone."
"Shh," Lydia whispered with their syrupy voice, "let it all out, honey."
Ophelia continued to sob. She did that once a year now, around the same time. It was always around the 13th. Almost like clockwork, Ophelia's mood took a nose dive.
"It's just-" Ophelia rubbed her face against Lydia's neck. They were so warm. Ophelia needed this. "He was hurting a lot, and I could have made it better. I could have done something. I could have kissed him and- and-"
The guilt broke Ophelia's voice. Her sobs returned, her eyes flooding with tears. Lydia kissed their lover again, their lips against Ophelia's forehead. Their thumb circle against Ophelia's back, pushing her closer to their body.
"I didn't. He died alone and he died angry." She whispered. "And I know it's not my fault, I know it's nobody's fault than those terrorists who did that to him, but fuck, why does it hurt so much? Why does it feel like I'm such a terrible person?"
Lydia moved their body away from Ophelia, cupping her face with her hands. Ophelia looked away with shame. She hated this. It made her feel like a child.
"Look at me," Lydia said, "babe, please."
Ophelia turned her eyes toward them, filled with tears and sadness.
"I love you, I love you so much and I'm so proud of you," it was Lydia's turn to crumple underneath the feeling, "you've been through so much and you're still going and everyday you get better."
Lydia's eyes started to tear up. Their lips quivered, but they continued.
"You feel guilty because you care, you care about people's feelings, you care about their lives and their happiness," Lydia remembered their first time in their car where Ophelia's smile was the brightest thing they had ever seen, "you're a good person who went through a lot of things."
Lydia remembered when Ophelia gave her the key to her apartment. It was a small step. She didn't let anyone get near her, both physically and mentally. She was prickly with her personality jabbing people when they got too close to her. For some reason though, Lydia managed to get through her defenses.
"If it hurts, it means you're healing," Lydia's tears went down their cheeks and unto Ophelia's, "your wounds are closing and I'm so, so proud of you."
Ophelia's smile was the lighthouse lighting up the storm, and Lydia couldn't help but press their lips against her.