April 8

Moving On or Can’t Get Over It

 

April 8, 2014, 7:14 am.

I’m writing this because I’ve been living in the past and I want someone to read my words and save me, if that is possible.

I don’t mean “living in the past” in the way we usually do, as not being able to forget the past and go on. I literary mean living in the past.

Yesterday… or I may say tomorrow, I woke up one day before. I lived the same exact things that I did on April 9. I went to sleep again and woke up today, April 8. I’m afraid to go to sleep again because I may wake up on April 7, and I don’t want to repeat that day.

I already know tomorrow news, who has won the game, who fell in love, and which of my friends broke up. But… there’s no use in saying those things because my different actions may change the course of history. I’m starting to get the feeling that I’ll be living backwards until I am born… that means… until I die.

Everything started when I met Paula.

Paula is that kind of girl you just can’t forget. Green eyed, ginger, deep thoughts, wonderful smile. That kind of girl who is so perfect that you’d never believe a relationship with her could be possible. She has plenty options, why would she choose someone like me? But she did.

We went out a couple of times and then decided to have a relationship. We were together for about six months, without big problems, just the common small ones, which we solved very easily and maturely.

Then, that night came. It was April 7. Yesterday. We were out, at Mike’s Dining. She asked for a soda… she never did. She always asked for coffee instead. I noticed hat something was not normal. I asked like 30 times what was the matter, but the answer was always the same: “Nothing”.

We arrived to her house about 10 o clock. I was ready to get in, but she didn’t let me. She said she was very tired and that we should see each other later. I said “Ok, lets meet tomorrow”, “No” she answered, “I think it’s better if we don’t see each other tomorrow… I think it would be better if we don’t see each other any more”.

There was another man. Jim, the basketball team captain. She never said his name, but I knew it, I knew it since they first met.

I was very angry. I couldn’t control myself. I pushed her inside her house, and threw her to the couch. I closed the door and all the curtains. She was scared, I could smell it. That made me go on. I wanted her to feel what I was feeling. All that pain inside my chest, now she was going to have it too.

I’m not going to describe all the things that I did to her; I’ll just say that I beat her a lot. Maybe too much… I killed her. I never meant to do it, but I couldn’t control myself. When I noticed that my fist was full of blood I stopped, but it was too late.

Today… I mean, the first time it was today, about 8 am the cops arrived to my house. An old woman saw me forcing Paula into her house and then heard her shouting. When I got out she tried to contact Paula and, after receiving no answer, she called the police. They tried to capture me, but I managed to escape.

That night I slept in the street, behind a garbage bin, in a dark alley. When I woke up, April 9, I started a plan to escape to Mexico. I took a bus and went to the border, it didn’t matter not having my papers, if I went back to my house for them the police would be there, waiting for me.

It took me almost the whole day to get to El Paso. I decided to rent a room in a Motel and rest. I only had some dollars left to offer to the immigration authorities so they would let me go through.

The next day, April 10, I was ready. I tried to bribe the officer, but he raised the alarm and I was caught and taken to jail. Over there I met a Mexican who told me that he could make everything go back, as if it had never happened, he just asked me to give five drops of my blood as a sacrifice. I did, it was more like a game to me, I didn’t believe it, but when I went to sleep that night I felt very heavy, as if I was going to break the floor.

I woke up. It was April 9 again. I was still in Kansas. I needed to take the bus again. This time I went first to my house to get my passport. When I arrived no body was there. I got my passport and some money and went out. But it was a trap; the police was outside waiting for me, so I had to give up.

I was taken to jail again. And there I met the same Mexican. He told me that he could make me go back a little further, this time I declined the offer. He just laughed and walked away. I slept and woke up today, at my house.

It is almost time for the cops to arrive, I will go to sleep to see if I can go back a little more. I don’t want to repeat what I did to Paula, but I may be able to change that moment. Maybe if I go back one day more we can prevent that from happening, maybe we can stay together, because… I just can’t forget her. You know… she is one of those girls…

Subject: The past
Technique: Writing
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