Band-aid

On the fourth day, her fingers began to burn. It had become an uncomfortable habit, to pick at flesh as her fingers bear the consequences of thinking, and the burn is her punishment. And in between the punishment and thinking she wondered if it was a mistake. To know of the very thing that should never be revealed. But the cards were already laid out. And again, they told Eden she would die. She knew that fate is for everyone, but the soothsayer looked in pity and apologized for her misfortune. As had the others. 

On the fourth day, her fingers began to burn. She tore at the skin and she was undefeated. With her victory she went to church, the Sunday of her mother’s death anniversary for her mother hated it there and thought of all the ways she could go. Thought of the way her mother went, not knowing who she was or where. In an unforgivable silence only to hear her say she saw angles. But even with her deteriorating mind, her mother never forgot how to lie. She supposed she should thank the spirits, for promising to take her before genetics bled through.

So on the fourth day, her fingers began to burn. She rubbed her thumbs over the wounds as someone sat down next to her. And she's 10 years old again. “Beautiful day today, isn’t it?”. 

On the fourth day, her fingers began to burn. But she doesn’t understand why the pastor speaks in tongues. “My mother died today.” 

On the fourth day, her fingers began to burn. And she doesn’t know who the woman in the casket is. “oh, I’m-“

On the fourth day, her fingers began to burn. But her mother is crying so she cries too. “Nine years ago.”

“Oh.…it's agony, isn’t it?”

On the fourth day, her fingers began to burn. “No,” she breathed in and whispered, “it’s a beautiful day.” 

On the fourth day, her fingers began to burn. And she heard the creek of the church bench falter, and a weight gone. So she thought of how often her mother said that there was no point in trying. And Eden got a tattoo on her arm at fifteen. But the rebellion proved unsuccessful when her mother cut off the sleeves on her shirts. Then she had ten, and dementia took over her mother, and she would scream. For Eden was no longer herself but was her grandmother and her thick tattoo sleeve became all her mother could see. She bought a long sleeve shirt every time she went shopping. 

On the fourth day, her fingers began to burn. And she spreads them out and thinks when she dies, she hopes it tames her in her sleep. Slipping from reality to the beyond, with the knowledge of who she is. Or maybe that was the curse. Perhaps that’s why when her mother died, the only tell was the flatline.

On the fourth day, her fingers began to burn. As she stared at the box of her mother’s stuff for the fifth time that night. But the box remained unopened. And time and time again Eden went to the soothsayers, for the impossible truth. For when. But they were only human. And she blamed them for not being something more. She had needed her mother to be something more. More than a blank face in her memories, or boys from bars, and the too many drinks later. But still, she did not get the knife. 

On the fourth day, her fingers began to burn. And she slept with the knowledge of it all and woke up with a sigh. Everything in between remained, but one night she screamed from the unbearable wait. Then there was a knock at the door of a police officer on the other side. 

On the fourth day, her fingers began to burn. She’s thirty again holding a phone. And she opens the door“Are you Eden Tatcher?” 

On the fourth day, her fingers began to burn. The nursing home had called to say her mother getting increasingly sick. She nods, folding her arms together. 

On the fourth day, her fingers began to burn. And for a moment she had thought she should not go at all.  “We got a call from your neighbor… they uh, heard screaming coming from inside your house. Asked us to check up on you.”

On the fourth day, her fingers began to burn. And what an awful thought to have. “I’m fine.”  

On the fourth day, her fingers began to burn. But she's holding her mother's hand.“Are you sure?”

On the fourth day, her fingers began to burn. Though, she does not want to be there. “Yes, I’m sorry for any trouble I’ve caused.” 

On the fourth day, her fingers began to burn. And she's wrapping her arms around herself outside her mother's room. “No trouble, ma’am.” The man had not stepped away yet. “Is it uh…alright if we take a look around?” 

On the fourth day, her fingers began to burn. She did not have a funeral for her mother. She stayed still for a moment, then stepped to the side. 

On the fourth day, her fingers began to burn. And the officer looked in every room and closet. From the hallways to the basement. But he did not see. He did not see the stain on the stair wall, where her mother’s boyfriend threw the bottle of alcohol. Nor the way she gripped her stuffed animal that night. He did not see the cabinet that wilts because her mother slammed it when they turned off the water. He did not see any of her. But Eden lives in it. When the officer walked onto the porch again, he stopped and turned. 

On the fourth day, her fingers began to burn. And they stung unforgivingly against her skin. “Are you sure your alright?” 

On the fourth day, her fingers began to burn. She knows she should stop now. “Yes.” 

On the fourth day, her fingers began to burn. But there was no time to change. “Okay.” He stayed for a moment. 

On the fourth day, her fingers began to burn. And they both knew of the spoken lie, he heard it as often as she said it. But it was midnight and his shift had ended thirty minutes ago. This was just a favor owed. She watched him walk away. 

On the fourth day, her fingers began to burn. So she slept next to the box that night. And She dreamt of the time she and her mother made her a bracelet from flowers in the forest just as she had when she was a kid. She wore it until the flowers began to rot and the roots could not hold together. And then her mother's mind fell. She did not make another bracelet. 

On the fourth day, her fingers began to burn. She dreamt while her neighbor noticed that she had not come outside of her house for a while. She dreamt when they called the police a second time. So it was the fourth day and her fingers began to burn. But she never had any bandaids.