Oh little CiCi,

Won’t you play with me?

We‘ll have a tea party,

under the Cherry tree.

Oh yes Mommy,

I want to play with you.

We’ll have some cookies too,

at our tea for two.

Oh sweet Angel,

Why don’t we roller skate?

We can skate away,

into a brand new day.

Oh how I love you,

My little darling Ci.

It’s just you and me,

it’s perfect anyway.

Consumed by the grief of my late husband, I lay my head on my mother’s lap. She somehow makes everything better. She was humming that silly song from my 2nd birthday. The one about tea parties under the cherry tree. The gentle swaying of the porch swing reminds me of how she used to rock me back to sleep when I had nightmares. Oh how I wish this was just a nightmare. No one else could provide me this kind of peace during such a tragedy.

While I lay, I try to focus on the blooming spring flowers. However, as I search into the garden for the hope of distraction, neighbors slow as they walk by. No doubt trying to catch a glimpse of the town's newest widow. I turn my head back to my mother’s face, how she is so strong. Afterall, she lost a son in law, yet, she is here pretending everything is alright in order to comfort me. There is nothing quite like a mother’s love, although often misguided, I know she is always here for me.

“Move, get out of the way, we’ll take over CPR now” The paramedic commanded as I was pulled away by a police officer. He brought me over near one of the trash cans in the rec center where I worked. He was asking me questions though I couldn’t hear what he said, so instinctively I took off my gloves the way we had practiced in the lifeguarding course. I looked over to my two bosses and I watched Luke punch Jason and storm away, that seemed odd but I can barely even remember it long enough to focus on it. Jason walked over to me and guided me to his office, I felt like a sheep being herded through the crowds of people that gathered as the paramedics continued CPR.

His office was loud, inside were three more police officers, the fire chief, and a paramedic. I did not notice what they were discussing as I sat down in the corner. No one was speaking to me, I was just there, reflecting on what had happened.

I remember being tugged from the lifeguard shack by a lady who works at the front desk. She had told me someone was unconscious and rushed me to the chair where the man lay. It was Jesse, a regular. His usually smiling face was now lifeless. A man in an obnoxiously striped shirt was yanking him from the chair and letting him fall on the floor, looking back it’s funny what your mind remembers during trauma. I sprinted back to grab the OSB which contained many life saving tools when I remembered what OSB stood for. It was our ‘Oh shit bag’ and I thought to myself Oh shit. I returned, slid on my gloves and started CPR. For 15 minutes I continued doing rounds of 30 compressions and 2 breaths. I believe someone had said the ambulance was stuck behind a train and that’s why I had been doing this for so long. I remember screaming at the air for someone to call 911 again, too much crucial time has passed.

Jason’s office went quiet, they were all staring at me as if I was crazy. Not one of them had a single ounce of empathy on their faces. It was then I realized I was projecting my thoughts for them all to hear. I could not bear the way they were looking at me so I focused on the calendar hanging on the bulletin board and went back to my thoughts. I felt more alone than ever. I wondered what was happening to Jesse right now. I did not know if I could or should get up, so I sat there and waited for someone to open the door. Eventually a woman walked in and I gazed outside to see the paramedics were still there. They seemed to be getting some sort of suction device ready. Meanwhile another device that looked like two plastic boards connected with thick bungee cords was actively compressing his chest in rounds of 3. The door closed, and once again I went back to my thoughts, surrounded by people but feeling very deserted.

Too soon it was time for work, when I got there I found out Reed’s docket was gone, there was no record of his arrest, and he is not on the sex offender list. Reed was active on Instagram today, he has opened all of the texts I’ve sent, but he has not reached out. I have been patient, I haven’t seen him since November. It is now February. Maybe I just don’t know him like I thought I did, maybe everything he told me was a lie, but his face wasn’t, and I know that face. I wanted so badly to believe he was a good person; so badly that I ignored everything my friends said. They told me that if I really loved myself I would have blocked him and not even hoped that he would contact me. They told me how crazy I am to not just completely drop him. He raped someone, he hurt them immensely; probably ruined their body image and how they thought of themself, and I made excuses for him.

Reed was my Henry VIII, I  knew he had his copious amount of mistresses, but what I didn’t know is that I would be one away from who I wanted to be, divorce, beheaded, died, divorced, beheaded, survived. I wanted to be the one who survived, but instead, I was beheaded, cut off from all communication from him with no reason why. Reed has not called me yet, I don’t know if he is not allowed to, or if the docket was just hidden from the public, but I haven’t heard from or of him in over three months. I hear his voice ringing in my head but never on my phone and I wish I knew why.

I still remember the first time we met, I remember how perfect everything was, Reed bought me ice cream, and with his kind eyes he smiled so perfectly I thought, there is no way I am good enough for this man. Our next date wasn’t even a real date, he missed me so much that 12 hours after our first date he surprised me by showing up in my town. Then the day after, he invited me over to his house and cooked me dinner. He made me chicken with pasta and veggies and poured me a glass of wine. I’m pretty sure one could guess what happened after dinner. Two months later he was discussing our wedding with me. Three months later we were talking about how perfect he and I were together and how there are literally no red flags. I think that’s ironic; no red flags that I know of, then I find out four months later he went to jail for rape. At first, I laughed when I heard he got arrested; I thought it was funny. Then I found out what he got arrested for and my face dropped. Rape, he was arrested for rape, and here I was thinking he was the one.

I wasn’t the only one who thought he was perfect, my mom loved him, my co-workers loved him, even my lovers knew they couldn’t compare to him. But still, I wonder every day how I could’ve missed something so big, how everyone went from loving him to hating him in two seconds and it has taken me until now to look at him in a bad light. It makes me wonder --

“Cheyenne, what are you doing pay attention!”

Do you ever just get so frustrated? So frustrated that you just want to scream at the top of your lungs? I was recently passed over for a promotion at work, I know it happens to everyone, but do you ever just feel so alone? Like no one understands what you are going through? This particular promotion was for the job I’d been doing for the past year without the pay and without the title. I know that was stupid of me but do you ever just feel like you’re doing the right thing? Like maybe doing more will take you to the next step? My co worker who got the promotion decided they wanted it less than two weeks ago meanwhile I have been doing this role interim since august of 2022. It is now September of 2023, do you ever just feel used? Like no one respects you, your ideas, or your voice, and they just needed to take advantage of someone and you're the lucky person? It feels so difficult to continue, I feel like I might quit my job at any given moment. I have to remind myself, though, the last time I had a hurdle this big was at my last job when I was getting cyber bullied by my own employees, and I got through it, but do you ever just feel like you can't get over something? You keep trying to remind yourself of the past and where you've been and where you're going but it's not working. Breathe - in - out, tell yourself it's alright. Pick yourself up like you always do, and keep going. Do you ever just move on?

It may be odd to think of Scylla as a favorite mythological creature but I can’t help how much I relate to her. One day she was flirting with Oceanos the next cast off to be a monster. The people she thought were her friends were laughing, gossiping, and joking about who she turned into. Sometimes I feel like no matter what I do I’ll always seem like Scylla to others, no matter how I carry myself or how beautiful I may be, if I mess up or make one wrong move I might be laughed at for eternity.