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ADELAIDE Independent Monthly Literary Magazine / Revista Literária Independente Mensal, New York / Lisboa, Online Edition  

 

 

 

CORA
by Olivia Du Pont 

 

 

“The first thing I remember was that everyone was yelling around me, my mother was crying, and the last thing I remember was seeing was a woman standing at the end of my bed.  She looked at me for a moment, smiled, and then looked away.  I then felt myself slip away.  I woke up and felt like I was floating.  There was nothing around me but yellow light, I looked around with curiosity rather than fear.  I looked down at my hands but they looked different—my entire body illuminated the room.  There were no thoughts that ran through my head, but instead there was a movie playing in my mind.” 

“What did you see?”

            “There was a little kid, and it took me a moment to realize that the little kid in the movie was me.  I was three years old and I was lying in my newly bought “big kid” bed.  There were fake glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling, but aside from that my room was dark.  The door opened, and in walked a tall person who looked like my dad.  It took me a moment to realize that the figure standing in my doorway was my sixteen-year-old brother.  He walked into my room, sat down on my bed next to me, and touched me thinking I was sleeping.  I moved, and he got scared—quickly leaving my room.  This was the first time.

            The next memory that played in my head was from when I was five years old.  My brother was eighteen and he was babysitting me while my parents were out.  He fed me dinner and then put me in the bath.  I watched as he touched me for the second time as if I was sitting in a movie theater.  Still, I felt nothing. 

            The next thing I remember seeing was something beautiful.  I saw my father walk through the doors just getting home from work and greeting my mother with a kiss.  I ran up to him yelling “Daddy!”  jumping into his arms.  I was eight.  My brother was not home.  This was a good memory.

            I saw many other things in between.  I saw myself as a ten-year-old, playing with my friends at school.  I saw that one time when I was eleven and I called a girl in my class a bitch for the first time.  I felt the pain as I watched her walk away to find somewhere to be alone and cry.  I felt the guilt that came knowing that I hurt someone else. 

            The next thing I saw was a memory from when I was thirteen.  It was my birthday and I had just celebrated with my friends.  They had all gone and I was lying in my bed.  It was the middle of the night, yet I was still up.  My brother came in and seeing that I was awake sat on the end of my bed smiling and wishing me a happy birthday.  He told me how happy he was to see me growing into such a beautiful young girl.  He was twenty-six.” 

“it’s okay Cora, keep going.”

“I remember seeing what happened next and this time I shied away.  I couldn’t watch it, so I closed my eyes.  I remember being in that place, surrounded by nothingness and watching something that couldn’t be real.  ‘This isn’t real’ I thought.  I was convinced that my mind was making this up.  But I was not to be deceived—within fifteen minutes, my entire childhood was taken away.  And then I saw every horrible night that came after that for the next three years. 

            The memories fast-forwarded to a time when I was twenty years old.  I was a junior in college and I was a criminal justice major.  I had a boyfriend who I had just started dating.  I was happy—and I had completely forgotten about what had happened to me growing up.  I saw a memory of my boyfriend and I going out to a nice restaurant—it was the first time a guy had taken me out for a nice dinner before.  After dinner we went back to his room and watched a movie together.  He was kissing me and I stopped him like I always do.  I watched the fear in my eyes, and then I saw my face go blank.  ‘Stop.  Next time.’  I had said.  I watched several more memories after that with my boyfriend where I said the same thing over and over again.  And then I watched the memory from when I was twenty-one, as he was breaking up with me. 

            ‘You are scared of me and I cannot figure out why.’  He said.  ‘You make me feel like a monster, like I am doing something wrong.’

            The memories fast-forwarded to my twenty-second birthday.  I was at a bar with some friends, drunk and having a great time.  I went back to my room and the alcohol was starting to rub off yet I still had the aftertaste in my mouth.  I started to feel sick and the bad thoughts that always come when I am alone began to resurface.  It was the weirdest thing—I could see myself thinking and I knew exactly how I was feeling in that moment.  I was so upset that night but I couldn’t figure out why.  Almost like when you feel in your gut that something bad is going to happen but can’t figure out what it is.  I started crying and realized that I couldn’t do it anymore—I couldn’t live like this.  There was nothing here for me, why would I want to stay in a world that has no room.  So I didn’t. The next day I bought a gun and that night I shot myself in the chest.  This was the last memory that I saw play in my head.

***

            The movie in my head stopped and within a moment I started to disappear.  Everything I was disappeared, but my mind was still there.  I could no longer see anything, but I heard a lone voice coming from somewhere near me.
            ‘Who are you?’  I said fearfully.
            ‘You have to go back.  There is not yet a place for you here.’

            And with that, there was a shock, a boom, a shot of something beautiful, and then—life.”

 

 

 

About the Author:

Olivia Du Pont is a sophomore at the George Washington University majoring in Psychology with the eventual goal of becoming a Holistic Health Coach.

 

 

 

 

 

     
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