Shed Part Two: Moving On

By request, the second part to Shed.

The last couple of weeks crept by. She went through the motions. She had become kind of a recluse, only doing what she had been hired to do. When her duties were complete, she would withdraw to her room to get away from the rest of the staff and campers. Seeking solace and sympathy in sleep.

Word had leaked out amongst the camp. Whispers hinting of what had been lost. Immature giggles following her as she passed. Cheerful songs during all camp meals, torturing and poking fun at her expense. She chose to take her meals back to her room. Hoping fickleness would take over the camp and they’d move on to something more newsworthy to gossip about.

She was miserable. But she masked it behind, what she hoped looked like a smile. Although it felt made of crumbling porcelain.

Confusion. Not quite understanding why she felt so ashamed and angry. Was it because she was ashamed at herself for just giving it away. Stupidly. Or was it anger directed at him for taking it when she was vulnerable and drunk? She shrugged at the thought. She guessed it just didn’t matter anymore. What was done was done. Time to move on.

Summer ended. Quickly enough, she supposed. Despite the fact that, although hopeful at a surprise visit to take her for that promised ice cream, he never returned.

She never kid herself. She hoped, beyond hope. With sadness and disappointment giving her strength. That he would come back.

Although, if he did return, she didn’t know what she would have said to him. She didn’t know how she would make him realize what he had taken and tossed aside. Without remorse. Carelessly.

The last night, while the campers and staff sang James Taylor songs and roasted marshmallows around a campfire, she crept off into the shadows. It didn’t seem to matter. She didn’t feel like part of that group surrounding the guitar playing camp leader anymore.

By now, no one was missing her. She had emotionally checked out after the teasing got unbearable. She didn’t really speak to anyone. Unless, of course, she was spoken to. And in return, the friends she had were just cordial.

She headed towards the field.
Towards the shed.
To mourn. And to say goodbye. So that she could be over and done with this.
She walked in. She sat down. Touching the floor gently with her open palm. Shifting the grit that accumulated on the concrete.
She said her goodbye.
To a part of her innocence.
A part of her that she won’t get back.
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
She wiped them away disgustedly.
Sick to death of her own pity party.

Suddenly, a noise in the dark startled her from her reverie.
A familiar silhouette, highlighted by the bright moon, stood at the opening of the shed.
“Hey.” He said.
“Hey.” She replied.
“I thought I’d find you here.” he said, quietly. Hesitantly. “I came looking for you.”
“Oh?” she responded. Curious. “Why?”
“I wanted to tell you I was sorry. It was your first time. It shouldn’t have been like that. It isn’t like that. That was my fault. And I am so sorry.”

She let out a deep breath. As though she had been holding her breath for days. All the emotions from the last couple weeks, released. And disappeared.

He sat down next to her.
He felt for her hand, there in the dark, in the shed.
And he held it, tightly.
They sat that way, for a long time.
Lost in their own thoughts.
Both of them, forgiving.
He, himself.
And she, more than anyone, herself.
He took something important. But, she had given it to him.
But in return, he brought back to her, hope.
And just like that, without another thought.
Holding his hand tightly in the dark.
She moved on.

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