A Jailed Lover

March 30, 2011
By hollynorris SILVER, North Tonawanda, New York
hollynorris SILVER, North Tonawanda, New York
9 articles 0 photos 0 comments

I walked as slowly as I could to the closet, and stepped inside. I closed the door behind me, praying that it wouldn't make a sound.

Sound gives everything away. It betrays all your secrets, and yet we are inevitably vulnerable to it. This is something that cannot be fixed or changed through this world we know today. It is real and pure and unmistakable. Sound is not biased, it knows no "sides". And so the sounds gave him away as well.

His loud footsteps sounded cold and unforgiving as he made his way up that creaky wooden staircase, and the fear I felt seemed palpable.

Would he know I'm here? Would he stay or leave? My heart, I felt, was certain to bring him straight to me -- the beating of a war drum coming right out of my chest. Time moved at a speed I had never thought possible, giving 'slow' a completely refined definition.

The floorboards slightly strained as he made his way closer, such tension in the air. I could hear him breathing; heavy, hard.

“I know you’re here. There’s no sense in hiding. I waited a long time to see you again... I was always your favorite teacher, wasn't I?”

I stayed quiet. I am not a coward, but I can’t give myself to him. So many years had passed but grudges can last a lifetime. He knocked on my already open bedroom door and spoke aloud.

“I understand why you did it… really, I do,” he paused. “You were scared. As a little girl in trouble, you fabricated a story. Better someone else than you, huh? But you can’t just ruin someone’s life without a consequence. Years in jail have hardened me, Anna. The love I felt for you was enough to overcome a lot of things, even our age difference. But you have to learn that telling lies is not okay...”

I could see his shoes, slowly discovering the room in which he took my innocence so many years before. I was nine, naïve, and stupid; he was a man, lonely and desperate. Of course to him, “no” meant “yes”. I was “playing hard to get”. He was delusional, that was obvious. I need a miracle to save me now.


He stopped in front of my closet doors, and a silent tear slid down my high cheekbones.

“…how nice to see you again.”

He opened the doors, and I was once again looking in the face of a nightmare I once thought had left me forever.

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