I stared blankly at the fractured mirror that hung in front of me, the void inside me expanding painfully.  Unpleasant reminders of the previous night caused my wounded fist to throb.

My motive had been to make that reflection not as toxic to my eyes.  I just wanted it to go away…
Last night was the first time I had actually crossed the line and fell off of that cliff, plunging into the depths of sorrow and regret.  I had woken up at three in the morning, stumbling into the bathroom and slamming the door behind.

Screams and cries bounced off the walls and were scattered in the air.  It was only me who was allowing those words to escape forcefully from my lips, all directed towards that horrid mirror.  Then I snapped.  Losing myself entirely, my hand tightened into a fist.  With a sharp cry, I slammed it into the lustrous glass.

It didn’t do much.  All I got out of it was an unbearable ache that ran down my fingers and into my forearm.  A couple cracks streaked across the mirror but not enough to distort the image.

I had yelled out in pain, clutching my traumatized fist.  Just the upward tilt of my head caused my eyes to meet the reflection that contained the truth.  I saw a dark girl; a girl with pain and hatred in her dark eyes and a dark, broken soul inside her chest.

Why did that have to be me?

I didn’t really see the point anymore...in anything.  I just didn’t want to keep going.  I wanted to get out of there, leave everything behind. But a recurring question surfaced in my mind, one that I thought about a lot.  It was the thing that made me keep going; it made me remember that life had so much more than the other option, which was death. 

That question was: Do I really want to die?

My knees felt weak remembering how I felt.  I had curled up in the corner of the bathroom, feeling so alone.  But then my savior came: Tony.  He was my knight in shining armor.

He had rushed through the door, finding me in my vulnerable state.  With melancholy eyes and open arms, he knelt down and held me close.  My body shook violently with uncontrollable sobs, but he held on tight.
“It’ll be okay.  I’m here now, Hope,” he had whispered gently as he used his thumb to softly wipe away a tear and pressed his lips against my damp cheek.

Footsteps clicking behind me pulled my mind out of the memory.  Turning my head, I found Tony sauntering into the large room.

“Hey,” he greeted with a kind smile, but it was easy to see through the façade he presented: the smile, the relaxed stature. I knew that he didn’t feel actually feel happy or relaxed inside.

“Hi.”  He stepped closer to me, brushing my hair away from my face and tucking it behind my ear.

“We have to leave, baby.  Your parents said seven o’clock,” he told me.

“Yeah, I know.”  I sighed, exasperated, reluctant to listen to his demand.  “But… Maybe we shouldn’t go at all this time.  My parents already hate you enough, and these dinners never end well.”

“Exactly; that’s why we keep trying.  Maybe they’ll like me more if we got there early,” he suggested with a grin.

“Yeah, right.  Either way, this dinner is going to be awkward.”

“Then let’s go get it over with,” he groaned, walking out of the bathroom.  I followed behind, grabbing my jacket before we got into the elevator.

Soon we were sitting in the car in silence, peacefully listening to the music playing from the speakers.

The drive to my family’s house was pretty long.  It wouldn’t be so lengthy if we didn’t live in an apartment that stood in the middle of Bridgeport, a city with more traffic than you could imagine.  I didn’t mind, though.  Car rides always relaxed me; the silence spreading tranquility throughout my body.

Tony and I liked the quiet.  There was no need to speak all the time.  We just felt comfortable with being close to each other, and we didn’t feel the pressure of making conversation.  But he did reach over during the car ride and take my hand in his, which I was more than fine with.

We arrived at my parents mansion out in the suburbs, something they loved to show off, and drove up the driveway.  Parking the car and turning it off, we sat there for a few seconds in the dark, dreading what was to come.  Tony sighed and turned to me.

    “You ready?” he asked.  I also took a deep breath.
    “Yep.  Let’s get this over with.”

    Out of the car and off to the intimidating massive front doors we were, ringing the doorbell hesitantly.  I bit my lip, pressing my finger to the button.  Immediately, I heard rustling and voices advancing towards the entrance.  The door suddenly swung open.

“Hope, darling!  Come in, come in!”  My mother pulled her apron off and gestured us to come inside and then ran back into one of the rooms.  Tony and I exchanged a look as we cautiously entered the house.

We slipped our coats off and kicked off our shoes.  Walking down the hall looking for the dining room, we ended up finding the rest of my family sitting down and waiting for my mom to come back.

“Oh!  Look who’s here, Kit!”  My grandma grinned and pointed to us.  My little sister saw us and started smiling like an idiot, her blonde curls sticking up in every-which-way.

“Hopey!  Tonny!”  she squeaked as she stumbled over to us.  I scooped her up and gave her a big hug.

“Hey, Kit!  Have you been a good girl?”  I beamed.  She nodded enthusiastically.  My sister was only three-years-old.  Our age difference was very prominent, me being sixteen years older than her.  I knew she had been an accident, but I still loved her so much.

Kit reached out for Tony, who was standing a bit awkwardly to the side of me.

“Tonny, I want Tonny.”  She wiggled in my grasp and I handed her over.  He took her from my arms and held her, and they playfully spoke.

The faint joy that held my grin faded as I turned to my dad, who was staring distastefully at Tony.  Who could blame him?  My family had such a sophisticated background.  Then there’s me, the one who runs off with a boy who “looks like he belongs in prison”, in my mother’s words.  Tony had black, shaggy hair and many tattoos that ran up his arms and some across his chest.  He didn’t look too crazy to me, not like some celebrity rock stars who go all out, but in my family’s eyes, (other than my grandma and sister,) he looked like a freak.  I honestly didn’t care what they thought.  I loved him, he loved me, and I trusted him more than anyone else.
“Alright, here’s the ham,” my mother announced as she strut into the room with a large platter in her hands.  “It was taking forever in the oven.  We better buy a new one.”

“Didn’t you just buy one?” my grandma chimed in.
“Well, yes...but we need to get another one.”

My grandma rolled her eyes.  I mentally giggled as Tony gave Kit back to my grandmother and pulled out a chair for me to sit down in.  Of course, the chairs were just as fancy as the rest of the house, with red velvet padding where you sat that matched the carpet and the drapes.  The dining room was large and elegant, much like the rest of the home, with an overly big table that stood in the center, and intricate paintings that hung upon the rich, chocolate colored walls.

“Finally,” my father complained, laying his napkin across his lap as my mother sliced the ham.  He was watching Tony from the corner of his eye, who was sitting between Kit and me, waiting for him to do the same.  Tony just kept sitting there, twiddling his thumbs and playing with the sleeve of his jacket.  My dad grimaced and rolled his eyes.  Ugh, what a snob.

“So, what have you guys been up to?” my grandma asked as she cut up pieces of ham for Kit.

“Well…  We moved into a new apartment.”  Tony was hesitant about giving them more information.  We had dinners like these frequently, and he knew that telling them about his band success or about a new tattoo wasn’t the greatest idea.

“Anything else?” my mom inquired as she poked a slice of meat and brought it to her tray.  We began to spoon up our food and pass it around the table.

“Not really,” I replied as I prodded my broccoli with my fork.  I hated the vegetable with a passion.
“Have you gotten a new job yet?” my dad tested with an abrupt tone.  I paused, pondering what to say.
“I think I’m going to go back to school,” I revealed in an unsteady voice.
Both of my parents and my grandma raised their eyebrows.
“Really?” my dad asked, openly surprised, but had hope laced through the word.
“Yeah.  I want to go into creative arts.”
“Why don’t you become a doctor?  You know you’ll get farther with that than with a pointless degree like creative arts,” my father stated.  He then turned. “Why didn’t you go to college, Tony?” 

Oh, no…  My dad is just trying to start something.
Tony shifted in his chair, uncomfortable with the question.
“Well, um…  Music is my passion,” he replied evasively.

“You know what the success rate of a barely known band from a huge city like Bridgeport to make it big is?” my dad continued, stabbing a piece of meat and bringing it to his mouth.  Tony kept his eyes on his plate, not looking up.

“Dad,” I warned, giving him a look.

“No, it’s alright, Hope,” Tony told me, meeting my father’s eyes.  My dad had a smug look on his face, thinking he had won.  “Actually, things are working out pretty well.  We have gigs lined up and we’re the opener at a concert next weekend.  So even if the percentage of bands that actually make it is small, we’re in that percent.  With that, I would advise you to stop being such a stuck up prick and appreciate what your daughter is doing and what I am doing, because it’s what we want to do.”  Tony nonchalantly started eating again, not bothering to even glance up at my father, who looked dumbstruck that Tony had actually stood up to him.  Then he looked furious.

Oh, great…
My father stood up and leaned accusingly across the table towards Tony.

“How dare you come into my house and speak to me that way!  You’re complete scum!” my father shouted fiercely.  Everybody stopped eating with fear in their eyes, other than Tony, of course.  He also stood up, much like my father.

“I’ve been to these stupid dinners enough times without standing up for Hope and me.  I love her and I care about her more than you ever will, and that’s why I defend her, not beat down her every idea like you do!”  Tony retorted.

“You are turning my daughter into scum right along with you!  You’ve turned her into some goth nobody and she’s going nowhere with her life because of YOU!”

That one hurt.  My body always aches, but that one was like a punch in the gut.  My parents thought I was a screw up, nothing else, and it hurt…

Because I already thought it, and they just confirmed that they thought it, too.

I just couldn’t do this anymore…

I pushed away from the table and got up from my chair as Tony yelled something back.  I didn’t pay attention or listen.

Nobody noticed as I slipped away from my seat and walked towards the front door.

Not even grabbing my jacket, which held my phone, I exited house.  I had no idea what I was doing as I went straight past the car and began walking down the sidewalk.
Where am I going? 

Far away.
I just kept on ambling across the cement, shivering in the dark.

Soon, tears began to drip gently down my cheeks, splashing onto my dress.  I didn’t know if Tony would find me…  Hell, I didn’t know if anyone would find me.  It’s not like a lot of people cared, though.

I stopped my line of thought after that, shutting my mind off completely to push away all the terrible thoughts I had about my screwed up life.

I didn’t think.
I just walked.

*    *    *

Five Hours Later

    Who knows how long I had been strolling along?  I still had a distance to go before I entered town.  My feet were agonizingly throbbing from my heels, still going one in front of the other, a robotic action that I repeated.  My location was on some back road on the way to the city.  There were no cars driving by.  There was nothing, really; just the cold, black night cocooning me in darkness.

    The moon hung high in full bloom, looking breathtakingly beautiful, but achingly haunting at the same time.  I could actually make out the stars from there, unlike when I was in the middle of Bridgeport. 
Though it was a lonely night, I was enjoying my solo walk.  I didn’t feel lost or forgotten, I just felt...free. 
I didn’t see the point in going back.  I didn’t see the point in anything anymore.

    The silence that was thick and heavy in the air wasn’t nearly as pleasant as it was in the car earlier that night.  This time it was eerie and...unnerving.  The only sound that could be heard was the tap of my heels on the pavement.

    Until I faintly heard someone in the distance.

    It was someone yelling.  A deep, gravelly voice that sent shivers down my spine.  Then I heard a woman’s voice.  She was wailing at the top of her lungs, crying harder than I thought possible.

    Then it happened.
    A gunshot echoed down the street, making me freeze in my tracks as I turned the corner and saw a man with a gun in his hand, pointing at a woman who now laid wounded on the frigid ground.  There was a bullet hole right in the center of her chest.
    Oh my God…  This can’t be happening.
    I needed to get out of there.
    Just as I was about to turn and sprint the other way, the man shifted and saw me standing there, taking in what had just happened.  I started to run the other way.
    “Hey!  Get back here!”

    I kept running frantically, desperately trying to get away from him.  My high-heels were not helping my situation, one of them getting caught on a rock, causing me to trip and fall.  The man stood right above me, gun pointed at my chest.  He was also crying; salty drips streaming down his cheeks.  The hand that held the gun was shaking spasmodically.

    My breathing was erratic as I faced the situation in front of me. 
Then I stopped, considering something…  Would I actually care if he shot me?
    Then that question came up again.

Do I really want to die?
    “D-don’t move,” the man commanded in a shaky voice as he kept the gun on me.  My arms rose up in surrender.  This guy didn’t look like a cold-blooded killer, he looked unsure of himself and of what he had done.  That didn’t make me any less afraid of him, though. 

He looked about 30, with shaggy blonde hair, noticeable scruff along his jaw and dark eyes that looked very frustrated and confused.

    He suddenly lowered the weapon and began to sob.
    I carefully tried to get up, hoping he had settled down and wasn’t going to use the gun.  As soon as he saw me trying to stand, though, his firearm was locked on me.
    “Stay there!” he ordered.  He sucked in an uneasy breath.  “Listen, I’m really sorry, but I can’t let you go.  I can’t let you tell anyone.”
    “No!  No!  I promise, I won’t say anything, I won’t tell anyone,” I cried.  I just wanted to get out of there.
    “I’m sorry, I can’t take that chance.”
    “No, please, I’ll…  I’ll leave town.  I’ll even move to a different country!  I swear to God, I won’t tell anyone!  Just don’t kill me, please!” I pleaded, knowing this might be it.
    This could be the end.
    And again, I thought the same question.
    Do I really want to die?

    He considered this, pondering the option.  My life was a matter of his thoughts.

    “Alright...but I’m not bringing you back to wherever you live.   Y-you have to leave, and never come back.  No c-contact with anyone from here.   I’ll give you some m-money and…,” he stopped, thinking in a frenetic way, then spoke, “three phone calls.  Y-you can say goodbye, but you can’t tell them anything else: why you’re leaving, where you’re going, n-none of that stuff.  I’ll b-be in the room with you.”
   

I’ll have to leave Tony behind.  My eyes welled up with tears.

    “Okay,” I replied in a whisper, attempting to hide my emotions.  This was all happening so fast.
    “Come with me,” he instructed, reaching a hand out, which I took.  He gripped my arm harshly, still having the gun handy, pulling me towards his car. Opening the door, he shoved me in forcefully.
    The silence swooped in again as we drove.  It was not pleasant like with Tony.  It made me feel anxious, the trepidation of what was to come consuming me.

    I tried not to think. I tried not to feel.  Having a panic attack wouldn’t exactly be a good addition to the predicament.
    Not long after we had gotten in the car, we were driving into a driveway of a nicely sized home.  This guy must’ve had a lot of money on his hands, judging by the size of his home.

    He turned the car off and scooted out, coming around to open my door up.  Once it was open, he yanked me out and dragged me roughly to the front door, where he unlocked it and pushed me inside.  I didn’t comment on his violent, uncaring actions.  Staying quiet was a much better option.
    “Sit down,” he directed as he lead me to a bedroom.  I awkwardly obeyed and sat down on the massive bed in the middle of the room. 

    He walked over to the corner of the bedroom right where a large painting hung.  Reaching up, he gripped it and lifted it off the nails it hung on, revealing a large safe.  I watched intently as he typed in a very long code into the number pad.

    Suddenly, it unlatched and swung open.  Inside was a stash of money bigger than I had ever seen in my life.  He grabbed a couple wads of cash and latched the safe, then put the painting up again.  Turning to me, he handed me the money.
    “This is your payment for staying quiet.”  He took a quivering breath. “One-hundred-thousand dollars.”
    “Oh my God,” I breathed as I took the money from his hands.  Was he really giving me that much money? 
He then proceeded to grab a pair of socks, tennis shoes, and a jacket out of a enormous walk in closet.
“You can use these,” he stated as he threw the clothes to me.  I immediately yanked off my heels, my feet killing me, and pulled the socks and shoes on.

I looked up to find him pulling out his phone.  He handed it to me.
“Three calls,” he reminded me.
Who would I say goodbye to?  I had been thinking about that on the drive there. 
He stood right next to me, watching intently over my shoulder as I typed in the first number.  I pressed the iPhone against my ear and waited for her to pick up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Grandma.”
“Oh, Hope!  Are you alright?  You just disappeared from dinner.  We had no idea where you were, and the car was still there.”
“Yeah, it’s all okay.  Grandma, I just wanted to tell you that I love you.”
“Oh, well, I love you, too, sweetheart.  Kit says she wants to talk to you.”
I smiled, that was exactly what I wanted to hear.
“Hiya, Hopey, it’s Kit,” she greeted excitedly over the phone.
“Hey, Kit.  What are you up to?”
“I’m playing with my dollies,” she answered easily.  I grinned again.
“That’s fun.  Hopey wants you to know that she loves you very much, okay?”  I can’t believe I wouldn’t get to see her grow up.  The emotion that overtook my body was so intense it was almost painful.
“Okay,  I really love Hopey, too.”  I heard a voice in background, and then I heard Kit squeal.  “Sorry, Hopey, Grandma sases the cookies are done!”
I didn’t even get to say goodbye as the phone went dead.

Sighing, I typed in another number.  I wasn’t sure what I was going to say to this one, but I had an idea.
“This is David speaking.”

“Hello, Father.”
“Hope.  You left dinner early,” he responded, clearly busy with something because he sounded preoccupied and uninterested.

“Yes.  I called you to say that I wish you the best of luck with rest of your life.  All you’ve done is made me feel like a worthless disappointment, but I still wish you a nice life, and I do hope that one day you see that there is more to life than wealth and fortune. This is goodbye, Father.”  With that, I hung up.  I blew out the breath I had been holding during that call.

The man next to me had an odd look on his face, almost like sympathy.  He was listening and watching as I spoke over the phone.  I wondered what he was thinking about.

On to my final call, the one that scared me the most.

I prepared myself for the ache that would settle in my heart as I tapped the screen, then waited for him to answer.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Tony…,” I rasped unsurely.
“Hope!  I’ve been looking everywhere for you!  Where are you?  Are you alright?” he  demanded answers frantically over the phone.

“I’m fine, Tony.  I just want you to know that I love you, and I always will, okay?”  I bit my lip, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill down my cheeks.

“I know, and I love you, too.  Why are you saying this, baby?  It feels like you’re saying goodbye,” he responded.
That’s because I am.
“Tony, I just want you to remember this, okay?”

“Okay, I promise I will.  When will you be back home?”
    I paused and tried to think of something I could say.  The man was still standing next to me, listening to our conversation.  He raised his eyebrow at me as Tony asked the question.
    “I’ll...I’ll be home by tomorrow, Tony.”  My voice cracked and shriveled away towards the end of my sentence.  I hated telling him this, making an empty promise that I was going to stay, that I was going to be just fine, standing in our apartment, acting like I was okay, just like every other day.  But I was never okay.
    Maybe leaving was for the better; to start a new life in a new place.

    “Okay.  I’ll see you soon, then?”
    “Yes,” I croaked with raw emotion.  “I have to go now, Tony.  Remember that I love you more than anything in the world.”
    “I love you, too, Hope.”
    I slowly pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at it.  This was the last time.
    Neither of us hung up.  We just sat there, the phone call still going.
    Silence.
    And neither of us felt the need to speak.

    Until I finally did.
    “Goodbye, Tony,”  I whispered, and then I tapped “End.”

    My past was now sealed and packed away, ready for dust to cover it, and the images, smells, and sounds within my memories set to fade and decay, similar to the way a person dies.

    But a new question drifted into mind, like a glass bottle in the ocean hitting a beach, so foreign and out of place, but meant to be there.

    Do I really want my past to die?

    I wanted to move on from that life so badly, to forget everything that had held me back and chained me up like shackles in a room of torture, or handcuffs in a prison cell, but I realized that everything that had happened through those years were a part of who I was, and who I was going to become.

     And I didn’t want that part of me to die.

    “That’s your last phone call,” the man next to me said.  He took his phone away from me.  “I’m going to have to change my number.”

    “What do you want me to do now?”  I inquired nervously.

    “Take my car, and drive.  I-I don’t care where you go, just get out of here,” he ordered feverishly.  He took a key out of his pocket and planted it in my palm.  I was about to stand up and leave when he enclosed his hand around my fist.  It’s a good thing it wasn’t the one I had punched the mirror with, because he was squeezing it so tightly my hand was turning numb.

He yanked me towards him and looked threatening into my eyes, a challenge dancing in the flames of his irises.
“If you ever come here, or tell anyone about what you saw, I will find you, and I will kill you.”  His words sent a cold chill through my veins.  The guy didn’t seem at all as afraid as we was when he first found me.  He looked threatening and serious.

“I won’t tell anyone, and I won’t be coming back here.”
He gave me one last malicious glare, and released me.  I exited his home, him following closely behind.  I proceeded to the luxurious car that stood parked in the driveway.  Getting in, I met those dark eyes one last time.

Then I was driving; driving away and away from that terrible prison I had been trapped in.  I was finally free, but that doesn’t mean I’ll forget the time I served.

I drove and drove down the highway, a mix of excitement and apprehension within my body.  Soon I realized that those emotions weren’t just enveloping my soul, they were the building blocks that were now beginning to create something new in the empty void that once existed inside me.
Even though this wasn’t my choice, I still needed it to happen.

My future was down that dark, seemingly endless road, but I knew that soon enough, day would come, and the sun would rise above this world, so radiant and bright, and the light would spread, along with the hope that now expanded within me, for I was on my way to a new day, and nothing would stop me.

So I ask myself that one question.
Do I really want to die?
I already did, but I was reborn.
And now I am someone new.
Someone strong.