Mya Rivera

4 walls. Two windows. Six outlets. A lamp. A mattress seated directly on the floor. A man sprawled out on the mattress. She says I need to get out more… Sometimes I agree. The Sun peeks through my blinds though as of yet it is not full enough in the sky to make it to my bed. I see the time is not yet what I thought it would be. My alarm clock taunts me as I wait for its incessant screeching, the tone of which never fails to lead me from the deep recesses of my imagination to the realization that comes soon after. Today I do not wait for its tone. I am up quickly, rubbing the grit from my eyes as I strip what few articles of clothing still linger upon my body. The water hits me. Normally I would let it run for a minute or three but it seems unnecessary now. I am already submerged. I’ve never felt so clean as the water drips into my eyes. Soft linen forces them shut. Before I know it I am dry and back in my bedroom pulling a cheap white shirt over my point of view and hopping on one leg as I button my jeans tight. Even sooner I am out the door.

The scene changes to a bright day which I have no trouble adjusting to. The light from the Sun’s rays scattering through the leaves casts a deep green tint across my world. My high-top sneakers are laced tight as they pound down the steps of the stoop of the place I call my home. Trees line my right as I turn left and head down the sidewalk. Shoots of grass and assorted weeds spring up from the concrete and stretch upward as if yawning in the morning sunlight. I walk as if I have a purpose today, and I assume I do. You see, I have finally found a reason to leave my expensive albeit barren abode. Mya. The one person in this city of supposed intellectuals who actually seems to see the universe as I do. Mya. I can not decide if I work to live in this city that has become my playground or if I simply work to receive days with which to spend with this girl who has come so unexpectedly into my life. Mya. I can’t seem to think of anything but her. She consumes my every thought and desire. She IS my every thought and desire. Usually I am so clumsy as I walk, yet today it seems as if every step I take is in line. Every movement is perfect. Everything is how it should be.

My mind does not allow me to take much in as I walk toward the park that splits the sea of endless stone buildings. All I know and all that I wish to know lay in front of me and every step I take brings me steadily closer to she who draws me near. With every beat of my heart my eyes scan toward the horizon with hopes of my first glimpse of the smile that drives me insane with elation. I know I am up early and no doubt will make it to the bench we like to occupy before she even stirs for the day, yet I can not help myself. As I turn the corner I walk directly across the street without hesitation and I begin to pronounce myself the king of my own self determination. In my mind, traffic detours around my path and the concrete cracks under my feet because with each step I am a force to be reckoned with. Perhaps it could be said I have an over active imagination, yet I believe your reality is what you make it to be. In the reflection of my eyes is a prize which should be known to be a sight that is magnificent to behold. A grin unlike any other that you have seen spreads like a wildfire in the summer heat across my features when to my surprise she is already there. She lay on the bench as casual as can be and it is in this moment that I realize that she awaits my arrival just as I was planning to anticipate hers. Perhaps we have more in common than I know.

She, however, does not seem to notice my presence. Surely she assumes I am not to arrive for at least an hour and it is with this detail that I begin to plot my sinister attack. I slink behind the closest tree and peek out beyond the bulging roots which tie it to the Earth. She is still unaware. I feel as if I should be wearing a tuxedo to complete the pretense of my initial excursion as a secret agent. I begin to advance slowly. I am a lion on the prowl, a hunter stalking his prey, the thief in the night. I am but the shadow which follows your every step that you refuse to notice because you are too distracted with the comings and goings of your everyday life. I blend with the yellow rays of the sun against the deep blue of the sky and become the brilliant green that is currently my greatest camouflage. With every thought focused on the task at hand I inch forward and toward my goal. My excitement rises as I realize that I am now close enough to startle my dearest friend. I hesitate as I imagine the possible outcomes: BOO! She falls off the bench, unaware of my proximity. BOO! She yawns and wakes from her slumber.. “Oh you’re early..” she might croon. BOO! She responds instinctively and attacks the ghoul who dare attempt to fright her. BOO! Perhaps she does nothing. I smile as I rise to my feet and stand above her. She has her eyes shut, nothing but a helpless victim caught up in the plot of a devious mastermind… a supervillain bent on world domination. “BOO!”

I fall flat on my ass. My heart is racing at a pace that a world class athlete could not compete with. As I stare up into the bright white clouds that dot the ocean above me I can not help but be surprised. I certainly had not expected THAT. Mya stands over me, her laughter like that of an African hyena fresh off a kill. My forehead runs hot with an anger that soon subsides as I begin to notice minute details about her. How the breeze catches her brunette bangs, how the dimples of her cheeks deepen with every second that passes, how the hand with which she ever so politely covers her mouth as she laughs at me has a different hue of paint for each of the nails of her varying digits. I can not help but be delighted as she collapses in a fit of her own hilarity next to me on the lawn.

“You thought you had me.”

“I hate you, Mya.” A statement so untrue the world ought to define it not as a lie, but as something inherently more devious. People say every lie has a kernel of truth at its foundation with which it pops into existence, yet the words that part my lips are the primal antithesis of truth. Had this realm in which we reside never known anything but complete honesty, my words would be the force that shattered its peaceful existence.

“You’re just mad that you did not strike when you had the chance.”

“Are you psychic? Did you creep into my brain and steal my thoughts? I mean really… How could you have possibly known I was there?”
“It’s all about perception.”
“How so?”
“Did you not perceive me to be unaware?”
“Well.. Yes.”
“See? Perception!”

A devious smirk only enhances her otherwise striking features. Beautiful beyond nature, with wit to exceed her aesthetics. I sometimes feel as if I am stealing the light from the world everytime I see her face brighten with a smile, yet I would gladly plunge my existence into darkness to know that she continue to do so.

“Guess you got me on that one. I should’ve known you wouldn’t be that easy to sneak up on. Why are you here so early anyway?”

“Why are YOU here so early? I don’t think I’ve ever known you to wake up and get out of your house before noon on your day off. Yet here you are, up earlier than you would normally be even if you were going to work.”

“Are you just going to answer my question with a question? You know how I hate that.”

“Don’t you know that’s the exact reason I’m doing it?”

Subconsciously I did know because Mya is exactly like me. She is my other half. Stubborn to a fault and yet she gets away with it because I tolerate her sense of humor. She knows all my buttons and just when to press them. If I was an elevator she would be the little kid who slides her hands up and down the control panel calling the cart to every floor. I wonder sometimes if I am the luckiest guy in the world to be graced with her presence or if she, like me, is alone simply because no one can put up with her hardheaded attitude. In the end, I didn’t quite know how to respond. She seemed quick to pick up on this.

“I’m here because I was waiting for you.”, she said in a voice that seemed not much louder than a whisper but echoed through to the core of my very existence. A few seconds ticked by that felt like eternity and I think she believed me to be playing the strong silent type as she began to blush slightly, though that was most certainly not the case. It seemed my brain had simply forgotten how to produce sound and I was having enough trouble as it was simply trying to fight off the onslaught of thought-waves that crashed upon the shores of this desolate beach that is my ability to flirt.

“Well that much is apparent.”
“Is it now? How so?”

I grinned and looked up to the sky in an attempt at acting contemplative.
“Well you see my dear… It’s all about perception.”

“Eff off.” Mya blurted as she pushed me playfully and got up. I extended a hand toward her, begging her to help me from the ground and she grasped it, digging her heels into the soil as she struggled to lift me. Together we moved as one and took our places on the bench. It was our own unique spot in this city. The park consisted of about the area of a city block where what was an old vacant lot had since become the community’s refuge from an endless expanse of townhomes and failing small businesses. There are swings, slides, and a junglegym for the kids, as well as barbecue pits and strategically placed benches for the adults. Also surprisinigly there is a merry-go-round, one of those old metal wheels with bars that children could spin to cause excessive disorientation to their peers, that ever so increasingly seem to be disappearing from playgrounds in the modern age because of safety concerns. I’ve heard whispers that the forces that be in the neighborhood are wishing to continue this trend. In the northeast corner of the space is a large expanse of grass constantly showered in sunlight. In this spot is where our bench was located, seated under the shade of a large oak tree the only of its kind around this section of the park. When we’d meet, we would sit there for hours talking about all the random and incomprehensible things that intrigued us. Music, art, what we thought was the best sandwich shop in town, how we loved the idea of going back to a gold standard, personal philosophies about life, love, happiness, among other countless topics. Though we did tend to exclude politics as we had both casually decided to be non-participants in the democratic society that we live in. Not to say that we were ignorant of the world at large or even that we did not care about the future of our people or our country, but more so because we felt that the only things that concerned us at this particular moment in time were our day to day activities, our love for our mutual conversation, and our ability to never lose sight of the present. Plus, we liked the merry-go-round… our first kiss happened there.

And so we would sit until the shadows grew long, exchanging our ideas, narcissistic babble, and the occasional yet extremely lame knock knock joke.

“Knock, Knock.”
“Who’s there?”
“Me.” she said with an awkward look on her face as I then proceeded to mimic a drummer to accentuate her non-existent punchline.

“Ba-Dum-Tish!”

Our absurdness only caused us to erupt into a fit of laughter for the umpteenth time that day. We’d talk and talk, and when there was a silence it was anything but awkward. Sometimes words were not needed and we simply fed off the vibe of our situation, exchanging quick glances that spoke volumes. As the Sun set in front of us, the stars foretold our sad departure. If only I could sit with her forever. If only the day never turned to night. If only I didn’t have to get up to face the doldrums that is my pathetic day job and we could sit and laugh as we are now until we grow old. Unfortunately, my dream world must come to an end. We agree to meet again as soon as possible, exchange a long hug, and part ways for the time being.

*BZZT BZZT BZZT BZZT*

4 walls. Two windows. Six outlets. A lamp knocked to the ground and unplugged. A mattress seated directly on the floor. A man sprawled out on the mattress. Clothes thrown about the room. Alarm clock blaring. I see the time is not what I wish it was, and I am NOT a morning person. I intend to steal a few more minutes out of my morning and reminisce on the events of the prior evening. My hand hits the snooze button and gravity proceeds to show me that I should really stay grounded as the clock falls to the floor, and just like the lamp it also becomes unplugged.
Today, I decide I shall visit Mya before I go to work even though she is not expecting me. I get up, get ready, and head out the door. On the way to her place I stop by a small corner bodega and buy a bouquet of white roses, her all-time favorite. Today is a day in which I shall show her just how much I truly love her. I follow the concrete sidewalk down the empty road as it takes me to the edge of town where she resides. I creak open the large metal gate and step inside. The air is quiet. Dew still soaks the grass of the hill she is on. The Sun reflects off each individual droplet as I climb to the heights of her home. I see her once more and tears begin to blur my vision. I give her the flowers and sink to one knee in front of her.

Mya Rivera
1991 – 2012
Taken too soon.

“Mya, my dear.. I dreamt of you again last night.”