Mmm. Garden State will make you think.
She had always been too late for everything. Her entire life, Leigh had been just a moment too long getting ready, or taken just an extra second staring into space when she should have just taken initiative and gone. That was her problem; taking initiative. She had nothing to provoke her, nothing to rouse her from the surreal state of simply floating through life.
She was born too late. Held in the womb long enough to make her overgrown, overweight, and overdone. She lacked that certain perfection that all the other girls around her in school had; that air of brilliance and glimmer that made them special, and her just the thing to compare them with.
She grew up too late. While the other children had already excelled in English, mathematics, and science, Leigh was held back, lagging along while the other children around her flourished. It was okay, though. Leigh didn't see any need to rush. After all, what's better than letting a fourteen-year-old play in the mud with the other sixth graders?
She cared too late. Especially when it came to those closest to her. She was given the most darling white bunny on her sixteenth birthday, the point when her parents finally believed her to be stable and worthy of a pet. All she did was stare at it, though. Stare, and then walk away to bathe or eat. One morning, she stared as it scratched at the walls of its cage furiously, starving as its insides were eating themselves. The frantic look of pain and terror on the creature's face didn't even phase Leigh; she looked on with disinterest and turned for school. The continuing scramble for solace didn't even wake her from her slumber that evening. Exhausted and hopeless, the creature finally took to a corner of the cage and died: frail, sickly, and alone.
It took Leigh days to finally register that something had indeed passed in her room and that the responsibility was upon her to bury it. Placing it in a box, she traveled to the backyard with a spade and raincoat; clouds were beginning to gather. As she dug the hole, she shrugged her shoulders and apethetically stared at the ground before her. She even spent a few lingering moments scraping idly at the sides of the hole, not really caring that they were square, but wanting to scrape idle specks of lighter dirt away from the darker, moist earth. It was then that the thought came across her to look at the bunny; it didn't even have a name, since she had only referred to it as "the thing" before. She opened the box and stared at the contents.
There had once been life in the mound of flesh before her. Drip. There had once been a beating heart, breathing lungs. Drop. She was responsible for the death. Drip drop. She killed it. Splash. All around her, Leigh heard the slow leaking from the sky fall. Yet, her eyes couldn't budge from her guilt. Rain fell onto the creature, illuminating open wounds on its paws and legs: it had tried to devour its own flesh to stay alive, such a feral instinct for a creature to resort to in dire times. The water made the red glisten as if fresh blood was pumping through the animal's veins once more.
Leigh's hands shook as she threw down the box into the hole and wreched. Falling to her knees, she scrambled far from the grave. Vomit fell from her lips relentlessly, like a waterfall. Even once she lost everything she had consumed that day, the gagging and wretching would not halt, not even for the fresh, hot tears that poured from her cheeks. This was the moment in which Leigh learned guilt.
She had always been late to arrive. There were just too many things to do. One morning, she arrived late to school only to find someone waiting for her at her locker. He was taller, yet slimmer than she. Leigh recognized his face from the halls, but had never talked to him. And yet, there he was waiting for her with what appeared to be flowers and a warm smile. Leigh's heart lept a little as he appeared nervous. He asked her how she was, explained that he had seen her around, and was wondering if maybe she'd like to go out sometime? Leigh never had a boyfriend, and had in fact given up on the hope of ever having one. She accepted with glee.
Had she been early, she would have seen him combing his blonde hair, holding the flowers between his teeth so he could use both hands. The flowers which he had just stolen from some unfortunate underclassman, who instead of hopes for a date had only two black eyes to his name. Leigh had missed him by a moment, for he had just been plucked up by his friends and taken to the bathroom. Those friends who couldn't defend him against the upperclass boy who demanded the flowers. The boy who needed the flowers to follow through with the plan. The plan that his friends had made one night while drinking. The drink which made the tightness of a virgin all the more appealing.
She was late for the date, and he was angry. He was so angry that he just had to take her outside the restaurant to tell her. After yelling at the door, he pulled her to his car by the wrist to yell at her more in privacy. She was already crying when he locked the doors and held her down. No one could her her cries, though, nor her screams of pain. She'd better not get blood on his seat, he warned, or he would have to hurt her.
She was late to orgasm. He had his fill and was done with her, leaving her to weep in the street alone, bruised and abused. That feeling of utter solitude consumed her as she walked home, walked to her room, and walked through her bed. She didn't even feel the alarm the next morning, nor hear her sheets. Leigh was numb, heartbroken, and ill.
She was late in her cycle. Unprotected sex often leads to pregnancy, and Leigh was no exception. The baby was expected in August, the doctor reported. Did she know who the father was. Leigh shook her head no definitively.
She was late to give birth. Eight months of hell passed, August came and went, and Leigh was still as round as ever. In early September, she finally felt her water break and her stomach begin to contract. By this point, however, her parents had already put her into the hospital full-time. After all, they still had authority over the seventeen year-old. Labor came and went. Stillborn.
Leigh was late for everything. Late to the store. Late to find her wallet. Late to find change. Late to go home. Late to open the bottle.
It seemed that despite every day she was late, Leigh was still early for the most important event of her life.
She was born too late. Held in the womb long enough to make her overgrown, overweight, and overdone. She lacked that certain perfection that all the other girls around her in school had; that air of brilliance and glimmer that made them special, and her just the thing to compare them with.
She grew up too late. While the other children had already excelled in English, mathematics, and science, Leigh was held back, lagging along while the other children around her flourished. It was okay, though. Leigh didn't see any need to rush. After all, what's better than letting a fourteen-year-old play in the mud with the other sixth graders?
She cared too late. Especially when it came to those closest to her. She was given the most darling white bunny on her sixteenth birthday, the point when her parents finally believed her to be stable and worthy of a pet. All she did was stare at it, though. Stare, and then walk away to bathe or eat. One morning, she stared as it scratched at the walls of its cage furiously, starving as its insides were eating themselves. The frantic look of pain and terror on the creature's face didn't even phase Leigh; she looked on with disinterest and turned for school. The continuing scramble for solace didn't even wake her from her slumber that evening. Exhausted and hopeless, the creature finally took to a corner of the cage and died: frail, sickly, and alone.
It took Leigh days to finally register that something had indeed passed in her room and that the responsibility was upon her to bury it. Placing it in a box, she traveled to the backyard with a spade and raincoat; clouds were beginning to gather. As she dug the hole, she shrugged her shoulders and apethetically stared at the ground before her. She even spent a few lingering moments scraping idly at the sides of the hole, not really caring that they were square, but wanting to scrape idle specks of lighter dirt away from the darker, moist earth. It was then that the thought came across her to look at the bunny; it didn't even have a name, since she had only referred to it as "the thing" before. She opened the box and stared at the contents.
There had once been life in the mound of flesh before her. Drip. There had once been a beating heart, breathing lungs. Drop. She was responsible for the death. Drip drop. She killed it. Splash. All around her, Leigh heard the slow leaking from the sky fall. Yet, her eyes couldn't budge from her guilt. Rain fell onto the creature, illuminating open wounds on its paws and legs: it had tried to devour its own flesh to stay alive, such a feral instinct for a creature to resort to in dire times. The water made the red glisten as if fresh blood was pumping through the animal's veins once more.
Leigh's hands shook as she threw down the box into the hole and wreched. Falling to her knees, she scrambled far from the grave. Vomit fell from her lips relentlessly, like a waterfall. Even once she lost everything she had consumed that day, the gagging and wretching would not halt, not even for the fresh, hot tears that poured from her cheeks. This was the moment in which Leigh learned guilt.
She had always been late to arrive. There were just too many things to do. One morning, she arrived late to school only to find someone waiting for her at her locker. He was taller, yet slimmer than she. Leigh recognized his face from the halls, but had never talked to him. And yet, there he was waiting for her with what appeared to be flowers and a warm smile. Leigh's heart lept a little as he appeared nervous. He asked her how she was, explained that he had seen her around, and was wondering if maybe she'd like to go out sometime? Leigh never had a boyfriend, and had in fact given up on the hope of ever having one. She accepted with glee.
Had she been early, she would have seen him combing his blonde hair, holding the flowers between his teeth so he could use both hands. The flowers which he had just stolen from some unfortunate underclassman, who instead of hopes for a date had only two black eyes to his name. Leigh had missed him by a moment, for he had just been plucked up by his friends and taken to the bathroom. Those friends who couldn't defend him against the upperclass boy who demanded the flowers. The boy who needed the flowers to follow through with the plan. The plan that his friends had made one night while drinking. The drink which made the tightness of a virgin all the more appealing.
She was late for the date, and he was angry. He was so angry that he just had to take her outside the restaurant to tell her. After yelling at the door, he pulled her to his car by the wrist to yell at her more in privacy. She was already crying when he locked the doors and held her down. No one could her her cries, though, nor her screams of pain. She'd better not get blood on his seat, he warned, or he would have to hurt her.
She was late to orgasm. He had his fill and was done with her, leaving her to weep in the street alone, bruised and abused. That feeling of utter solitude consumed her as she walked home, walked to her room, and walked through her bed. She didn't even feel the alarm the next morning, nor hear her sheets. Leigh was numb, heartbroken, and ill.
She was late in her cycle. Unprotected sex often leads to pregnancy, and Leigh was no exception. The baby was expected in August, the doctor reported. Did she know who the father was. Leigh shook her head no definitively.
She was late to give birth. Eight months of hell passed, August came and went, and Leigh was still as round as ever. In early September, she finally felt her water break and her stomach begin to contract. By this point, however, her parents had already put her into the hospital full-time. After all, they still had authority over the seventeen year-old. Labor came and went. Stillborn.
Leigh was late for everything. Late to the store. Late to find her wallet. Late to find change. Late to go home. Late to open the bottle.
It seemed that despite every day she was late, Leigh was still early for the most important event of her life.