A Night That Echoes in Silence

why did I leave her alone at the party?

You lay awake, pressing the issue, moving the pieces in your mind so that you can make sense of it. You place the details in and out of sequence. You replay the moment you stepped out of the party and placed the ride for your Uber. You called on your sister, but she wasn’t ready to leave. You stop to get yourself some water from the kitchen sink, and you start all over again.

You remember kissing her on the cheek as she sang her favourite karaoke song on the podium ‘My Heart Will Go On’. You remember smiling as you could hear her voice outside as you approached your Taxi.

You replay the trip home and how nice it was to have a female Uber driver, so you didn’t have to worry so much. You got out of the taxi and calculated how quick your stride had to be before the dark world imposed itself. You play it again and again and wonder why your little sister was the one who had to lie there while a strange doctor took samples from inside her. You watched the cruelness of the world steal her innocence twice over as people in uniform asked her how much she had to drink, and is she really sure? You watched her wrestle back tears as the world crumbled around her.

You wake up the next day and put on your blouse and skirt and your undergarments, and you head outside for a walk. You watch the faces and wonder — could it be him, or him, or him, or him, until you drive yourself into a corner.

The world is broken. You aren’t sure it can be fixed.