non_existent_memory lostgirl we didn’t know that a crime would be committed that night. quickly and without concern, we hastily fled the safe confines of her loveless house in exchange for the open road, just the two of us, singing, laughing, long hair carelessly wind-tangled, our headlights the lone beacons in the post-midnight black. humid mist shone like wet etched glass on the asphalt while ghostly bare branched trees whizzed hypnotically past, one after the next, after the next. when those eyes appeared, reflective circles of red in center of the road,the quiet night quickly shattered into a dissonance of screeching brakes and earsplitting screams heard by no one, then spiraling, spinning, whirling, like an amusement park ride stuck on ‘repeat.’ when the embankment came to greet our chariot, it was not in silent embrace. the angry fist of crushing metal coupled with the impact of skulls to crumbling chunks of glass was punctuated only by the incessant blaring of the horn. leaving the scene of the accident out of fear was the first offense. the second and hundred after that came when her mean-spirited father told me i had to lie to the police. “you don’t exist” he said, with his harsh tongue and furious eyes. “you remember that, girl, or else.” he assured me that his insurance rates would skyrocket if it came to light that she was out joyriding after midnight on a cinderella license. but i knew he would just beat the shit out of aggie if i didn’t do as he wished. his image was at stake. i knew all about him. i had seen her broken ribs, swollen lips and blackened eyes carefully camouflaged with her amateur attempt at stage makeup. and so, i did it. with my stomach churning acid, i spoke with the dry mouth of deceit, and i lied. over and over again. i lied with the finesse of an actress reciting scripted lines. my untrue story never wavered simply because i feared for my best friend's safety if i didn’t comply. (it was difficult to justify being invisible because my purse had been found in the car, but i did.) the police knew i was lying. my parents knew about the lie. everyone knew, and no one cared that i was bothered, really bothered that i was asked to lie. made to lie, i didn’t want to be invisible then. i still don’t. i existed. i was real. i am real. truth is real. and truth is truth, unchangeable, and genuine, even if you are told you don’t exist. 100624 what's it to you? who go blather from