I Am Life

I can't do this. Not today, I have to stop. The pain courses through my body and the doubt starts to sink in. All I can hear is my feet against the pavement, my breathing strained as I gasp for air.

This morning's run is harder than any I've had before and I don't know why.

I turn the corner and finally see my house. I'm almost there. Pushing through the pain I get to my driveway and stop, resting my hands on my knees as I desperately try to catch my breath.

"Good time today?" I glance up and see my neighbor Troy bringing his trash can to the corner. I tense up and my mind goes blank. Every morning we seem to run into each other either when I'm leaving on my run or coming back. He's only a few years older than I am and yet has his own house. He moved in not too long ago. Our neighbors abruptly vacated due to the pandemic, so I'm sure he got a great deal on the house. He's still in what looks like his pajamas and gives me a friendly smile. I glance down at my watch, still ticking away.

Shit, I think and end the workout. "No," I tell him. "Actually...one of my...worst," I say through gasps of air.

He shrugs. "There's always tomorrow." He gives a friendly nod and goes back into his house. I watch him as he goes, wishing I had said more. Anything to make him see me as more than just "the girl who runs in the morning". People like him who have their shit together don't see people like me. I'm nobody. I can't even find a way to get out of my parents' house, let alone get my own. I don't even know what he does for a living. All I know is he's gorgeous and I'm invisible.

I walk into my house and I can hear my dad in the dining room in the midst of a meeting. The pandemic is over and yet somehow he's still working from home. It's like life is torturing me. My mom walks into the hallway, her eyebrows raised.

"Abby, there you are. I've been looking for you," she says with her put-on serious tone.

"Mom, I go for a run every morning. This isn't anything new. You know where I was."

"Yes, well, your dad wants to talk to you when he's done with his meeting. There might be an opening in his office. They need someone to work the front desk." I roll my eyes and before I can say anything, she continues. "Don't start a fight with him, okay? He's only trying to help."

"Spending my day directing UPS and FedEx drivers where to deliver packages is not my idea of work."

"And spending your day playing video games is better?"

My body hurts too much to have this conversation so I brush past her and start heading upstairs. As I pass the dining room, my dad sees me and gestures with his hand to me.

"I'm taking a shower," I call over my shoulder as I keep walking.

I get to my room, close the door, and collapse onto my bed. It's going to be one of those days. But then why would I expect anything different? It's always one of those days. My parents' number one concern in life is what I'm going to do with mine. Since I have no idea, they're going to impose their ideas on me. I know I need to come up with something soon. The thing is, I know my mom is right. It's not like sitting at home playing video games is much better. It's not like I enjoy it, but what am I going to do? After graduation I started working retail at the Gap. It was awful, but it was all I had. I trudged along day after day, putting on that fake smile and listening to people complain about the price of capris. With everything going on in the world, capris were people's number one problem. It was awful. Once the pandemic started, they laid off everybody in the store with the promise that when things got back to normal, they'd hire us all back. I remember when I got the voicemail.

"Hi Abby, it's Desiree from the store. We're starting to hire people back and well, you know how much we love you. If you're still looking for work, give me a call back and we can figure out your first day. God bless."

I didn't realize how much I was dreading that call until it came. I quickly pressed the trashcan icon before I could think twice about it. A few weeks later my dad brought up the store. He had seen on the news that the mall was opening back up and stores were hiring again. He asked if they were going to take me back. I lied and said I hadn't heard from them.

"Those sons-a-bitches," he said. "I should go over there and remind them you were their best employee!"

"No dad, please don't," I say, rolling my eyes. I came up with an excuse about how I'll need them as a reference if I'm going to get another job. That seemed to work and he gave it up. I can only imagine the look on Desiree's face when my dad walks in yelling about not hiring me back. The truth is I don't want to work retail, but I also don't know what I want to do instead.

What my parents really want is for me to go to college. I'm not opposed to the idea. The problem is I wasn't the best student. Not because I was lazy, not at all. My problem was I was too smart. That's right, I was too smart. My teachers would tell us things that were clearly not true. All the other kids would just go along with it, nod their heads like total androids and write it all down. I'm the only one that would challenge them, and they hated it. Boy did they hate it. It's not my fault the education system hasn't caught up to Google.

I remember one day, who even knows what grade this was anymore, our history teacher mentioned something about Columbus discovering America. My hand shot up in the air.

"Yes, Abby." You can hear the annoyance in her voice as she knows what's coming.

"Columbus didn't discover America," I corrected her. "It was the Icelandic explorer Leif Erikson. He reached America long before Columbus was even born. And let's not forget none of these people 'discovered' America since there were people here already. Columbus was a rapist who committed genocide-" And you get the rest. Let's just say, I didn't pass the quiz on that chapter. This is how all my classes went. All of them except math. I love math. There's no interpretation, there's no grey area. You're either wrong or you're right. There can be a debate about the best way to come to an answer, but there's no debate about what the answer actually is. (Except for statistics, which is all about interpretation. I hate statistics! But that's for another day.)

Since my grades weren't that good, I have to go to community college to bring them up before I can go to a four year school. I have no problem doing that. It's just...well, I don't know. Going to college means having to make a decision about what I want to do in life. If I knew that...

When I was in high school, I thought I was going to change the world. I decided not to go directly to college after graduation. Why sign up for more indoctrination just like the last four years I had to endure? No thank you. I figured any education I needed I would find from books I chose to read. Not the ones those authoritarians running my high school prescribed. I told my parents I was taking a gap year. They weren't happy about it, but what could they do? I didn't tell them until after most college application deadlines had passed. I escaped college for one year. The next year the pandemic hit and I told my parents there's no need to apply now. It's all online and that's all bullshit anyway. They halfheartedly agreed. However, now the pandemic is over and schools are opening up to in-person teaching again, and worst of all my parents know it. They've been hounding me to start applying. I don't know why but the whole thing scares me. A while back my dad handed me an application to some school he has a connection to. I have to write a personal statement. A long answer to a short question. "Who are you?" That's it. That's all they asked. "Who are you?" I opened up my computer and pulled up a blank Word document. I typed "I am" and stopped. I watched the cursor blink for what felt like an hour. I had no idea what to put after that. "I am" what? "I am Abby." Well duh, that sounds unintelligent. "I am legend and I kill vampires." They probably wouldn't get the joke. "I am lost?" Yes, that'll get me into college. I closed the computer and handed the application back to my dad. I told him after reviewing the school's credentials, it didn't meet my standards. You can imagine how well that went.

My train of thought is broken by the sound of a knock at my door. My dad pokes his head in.

"Abby, I need to talk to you."

"Mom told me about the job, dad. I'm not interested."

I can see him immediately get angry. "Why not?"

"I can't work in your office. The whole time everyone will be saying 'oh look, there's the girl who's dad got her the job. She must be an idiot if she needed her dad to get her a job.' I can't do that."

He takes a few more steps into the room and sits on the end of my bed. I sit up and lean back on the headboard.

"I can understand that," he says unexpectedly. "So tell me. What jobs have you applied for already?" There it is.

I take a deep breath. "None."

He nods. "That's what I thought. And college? Find anything that interests you yet?" He makes no attempt to hide the sarcasm in his voice. All I can do is look down and take a deep breath in resignation. We both sit there not saying anything. Finally he looks up at me.

"Listen. Your mom and I have been talking. We don't know what to do for you-"

"You don't need to do anything dad-" I cut him off. He puts his hand up to stop me.

"It's our fault. We've sheltered you for too long."

"Oh please," I say rolling my eyes.

"We have. If your mom and I were suddenly gone, you'd have no way of taking care of yourself. You need to learn some harsh lessons."

I lift my head at the word "harsh". What does that mean?

He continues. "Abby. If you don't have a job or if you haven't submitted a college application by the end of the month, we're kicking you out."

I laugh. "What do you mean 'you're kicking me out'?"

His face is stern. "You won't be allowed to stay here anymore."

"Where will I go?"

He shrugs. "That'll be up to you. You'll have to figure it out. We can't continue to support you if you're not going to make an effort."

"You can't kick me out," I protest.

"You're twenty now-"

"Nineteen, dad. I'm not twenty until next month." I sound like such a child, I think.

"Abby, please." He looks more serious than I've ever seen him before. So much so that it scares me. He really means this. "Get yourself together. Before it's too late."

He stands up and walks out of the room, closing the door behind him. I sit there, smelling of my morning run, tears starting to swell but I hold them back. I glance to my left. My laptop is sitting on the desk. I scoot across the bed to it and open my laptop. I move the cursor over the Word icon and stop.

I am...

Above it I see the icon for the most recent game I've been playing. A dungeon crawler that provides pure escapism. I hesitate. I know what I should do, but for some reason I can't.

I am...

My heart starts beating faster.

"Get your shit together. Before it's too late."

I move the mouse up to the game and double click.

This is what I am.

**********************************************************************************************

Last night I couldn't face my parents. I played my game all night, only leaving when I knew they had gone to bed. I was starving and made myself some mac and cheese for dinner. Another example of how much of an adult I am. A bunch of things were spinning through my head. First anger, then I moved on to why it doesn't make sense. Then sadness, and then finally acceptance.

I'm just a fuck up.

That's the conclusion I come up with. I'm a total fraud. All those years I spent calling my teachers out on their BS, in the end I was the one full of it. I've been lying to myself all these years. I'm not a free thinker, I'm just lazy. I'm not a fighter, I'm just afraid. This is everything going through my head as I head out on my morning run. It's slightly overcast today, rain imminent at some point. I'm so preoccupied with my thoughts that I forget to put headphones on. I'm running quiet. Who knows, maybe I'll just keep running forever. Like Forrest Gump. I'll run from here to California and see if anyone notices. Of all the crazy things in that movie, that's the most outrageous. I could run the rest of my life and no one would notice.

My block ends in a dead end that leads to a hiking trail. I usually run around the cul-de-sac and turn back towards my house, but I'm so buried in my own thoughts that I run right onto the trail. Once I realize it, I decide to keep going. The longer I'm out of the house, the better. It's been forever since I walked through these woods and I've never ran through them. When I was a kid I loved hiking and I'd trek this trail constantly. At some point during high school I forgot about it. I stopped hiking all together. Looking back, I don't know why I stopped. It's amazing how sometimes you can forget about the things that give you joy in life.

I get to a steep incline and try to run up it. I make it to the top but have to stop as my whole body is on fire. I was already a little tired before the hill. My body is telling me to take a moment. There's a tree that looks to have a comfortable place to sit right off the trail, so I go sit down and look around the forrest. It's beautiful out here. So quiet and calm. Living in a housing development means it's never fully quiet. There's always a car or a kid filling the air with noise. Now I remember why I used to hike out here. The seclusion.

Abby.

I sit up straight and look around. I swear I just heard someone say my name, but I don't see anyone. I shake it off, clearly having just heard something that isn't there. I close my eyes and lean back on the tree.

Abby.

I bolt up again. This time it was much clearer. Someone said my name.

"Hello?" I call out, but no response. "Who's there?"

Not who. What.

My heart rate starts to pick up as my head jerks from side to side.

Calm yourself. No one else is here.

"Who is that?"

Listen to the sound of my voice.

I stand and wait. "It's kinda hard to do that if you don't speak."

Who are you, Abby?

I hold my breath in surprise, the recognition hitting me. The voice sounds like my own, as if I'm speaking to myself. Am I going crazy?

Your mental state is perfectly fine. I am not coming from within. I am here, with you. All around you, but I am not you.

"Then..." I hesitate. It's a clear sign that I'm crazy if I start engaging the voice inside my head. "Then who are you?"

Who are you?

"I'm Abby," I say matter-of-factly. "Who are you?"

And who is Abby?

"This isn't funny! Who is this?!"

I feel a sensation run across my shoulders. Almost as if there's a finger running from one end to the other, but not quite like that. I don't know how to describe it. I spin around only to see the tree I was sitting back on earlier.

You are lost, Abby.

"I know exactly where I am."

I mean in life. You are lost in life.

"Yeah? Well why don't you step onto the path and show me who you are," I say with anger in my voice.

I am on the path and not on the path. I'm all around you. Think about it. Where is my voice coming from?

A good point. I realize the voice is coming from all directions. It's as if I'm wearing headphones. Without thinking I reach up for my ears but remember I forgot them at home. Then I feel two hands on top of my shoulders. As if someone is standing right in front of me, but clearly no one is there.

"Are you..." I want to ask but the question sounds stupid. I can only bring myself to whisper it. "Are you a ghost?"

A laugh from the voice. And then, No. I am not a ghost. I am not a spirit. You have no words to describe what I am. Except maybe one.

"And what is that?"

I am life.

I sit and think about that for a moment. It doesn't make any sense. But then again, none of this makes sense.

Why are you so lost? What has happened to you, Abby?

"I...I don't know." The question is disarming. To ask "what has happened" implies there was a time when I was not like this.

There was a time like that.

I feel a jolt through my body. A string of fear. "You know what I'm thinking?"

There is nothing hidden from me.

I don't say anything for a long time, waiting for the voice to continue. Finally I break the silence. "What do you want?"

To help you.

"How?"

Sit on the ground.

The demand takes me off guard. A strange thing to ask. "Why?"

Do it.

A new forcefulness in the voice. I do as I'm told.

Tell me who you are.

"I...I don't know how to answer that."

You don't know? Or you don't want to?

I never thought about it before, but maybe... "Both."

Afraid of what you will say?

I respond in a whisper. "Yes."

Why do you run like this every morning? What are you afraid of?

"I'm not afraid of anything."

You cannot lie to me. I know the answer. It is you who needs to hear it. Why do you run?

I think for a moment. A truth buried so deep that even I have to search for it. Something ugly. Something locked away for a reason.

"No," I whisper.

Say it.

"I can't."

Suddenly the wind picks up and leaves on the ground start to move. They lift up into the air one by one until suddenly there's a cyclone of leaves swirling around me. The sound is all encompassing. I can no longer see beyond the wall of leaves and I cannot hear anything in the forrest anymore.

It is just us. You are safe here. Say it.

"I...I hate myself. I'm ugly...on the outside and the inside...I don't...I don't deserve happiness."

The cyclone abruptly stops and the leaves all come crashing to the ground. I sit there, leaning back on my hands in bewilderment. Then I feel something moving along my body. It starts at my belly button and slowly moves up to my breasts. It passes over my nipples, even though I'm wearing a sports bra, and moves to my neck, caressing me. A warm shiver runs through my body.

You deserve all the happiness in the world, Abby. How could you not?

"I'm ugly," I say as I take a deep breath from the soothing comfort of the sensation on my body.

You are beautiful.

Whatever it is moves to my breasts and I can feel a low humming on my nipples, but I don't understand it. They become erect and suddenly feel uncomfortable in my sports bra.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

Remove your top.

Entranced, I reach down and grab both ends of my shirt and lift it over my head. I reach down again and remove my sports bra. My bare breasts hit the cool morning air, but suddenly there's a warm feeling over them. Not a hand but just a feeling. A pressure. I feel a buzzing in my nipples and I throw my head back.

"What's happening?" I manage to say through light moans.

You think taking care of yourself physically will make up for the neglect you've done to yourself mentally, but you are wrong.

A small concentrated cyclone picks up and blows a warm air across both of my nipples.

"Oh my god," I moan. "How is this possible?"

The wind blows me flat on my back. My feet planted on the ground, my knees fall to each side, and I feel a pressure between my legs. I lift my head but still see no one there. The wind picks up again and starts blowing along my body. It's weird, but I can tell what it wants. I use my feet to remove my shoes and then push my pants down, using my feet to do the rest, kicking them to the side. I'm now laying on the forrest floor fully naked, a cyclone blowing around me. Suddenly a concentration of warm air changes directions and blows at my exposed vagina. The air seems to touch every part of my body including my clitoris. My body tenses up. I reach out to touch myself but a gust of wind blows my arms back so that they're on the ground. Something, I don't understand what, holds them there.