Things That Should Stay Buried - Casey L. Bond


Things That Awaken

There are things that ruled the earth long before humans began to scribble their histories.

Things that were forgotten.

Lost to time and memory.

Things that became myths.

Wicked things.

Things that should stay buried.


This morning in Physics we learned how momentum often led to collisions.

But that lesson extended to more than just mass and velocity. It was applicable to life. I was barreling toward the last rites of every high school senior: prom, graduation, college acceptance, and the beginning of life as my parents let go of the reins and handed them to me.

Maybe I was looking too far ahead and forgot to look at what was right in front of me.

When I emerged from the locker room in fresh running gear and saw Brant and Reagan standing next to one another, my stomach dropped. He nudged her, teasing her as she tied her shoe. She flirted as he stretched, showing a tan, taut sliver of stomach.

If I was being honest with myself, my pride had been hurt worse than my feelings. I wasn’t planning on forever with him, but we’d dated for a few months and I had come to really like Brant, to respect him. He told me things I was absolutely positive he’d never told anyone else and let me in when he usually pushed people away. We’d made plans to go to prom together this weekend, and then hang out at the bonfire planned for after.

I thought we’d date until graduation and new beginnings separated us, but he had other plans. I couldn’t stomach a liar, much less a cheater. He should’ve broken it off when he first thought of hooking up with Reagan. And he sure as hell shouldn’t have told the entire student body he only slept with her because I wouldn’t sleep with him. While it was true, it was none of anyone else’s business.

Some girls would’ve cowered. They would’ve stayed home and wallowed or ducked down hallways to avoid interacting, maybe even skipped practice since we were all on the same cross-country team. But I wasn’t about to let Brant or Reagan ruin my last days of high school. However, I also didn’t want to watch them paw each other.

I jerked the laces to my shoes tighter than necessary and inserted Air Pods into my ears, queuing my running playlist. When angry lyrics poured into my ears, I tucked my phone into the little zipper pouch built into my leggings at the small of my back and did what I did best. I ran.

Ignoring the warning from my Physics teacher and letting the world blur into nothing more than controlled breaths, dribbles of sweat, and the stubborn will to leave everything and everyone behind me, I pushed myself to finish first.

I didn’t even know I’d taken a misstep until my ankle cracked and I collided with the earth.

I pushed myself up, spitting out a leaf stuck to my bottom lip, and rolled onto my backside. My palms were shredded and already stinging. Blood welled into the gashes. It oozed into the cuts on my knees, too, but it was my ankle I was worried about. The pain in it was sharp. Both sides of the joint were swelling fast and it was already bruising. It was probably broken.

I wanted to cry. Because of the pain, yes, but also because I’d had entirely enough this week.

My brother could heal all of this in seconds if I could get ahold of him. I just hoped he answered.

I rolled over far enough to pull my phone out, brought up my favorite contacts, and pushed Kes’s name. Twigs, dirt, and leaves dug into my skin as I tried to sit up.

“Practice is already over?” Kes asked. He never answered the phone with a normal hello, but then again, he wasn’t exactly normal.

“I need you. I’m hurt and I need your help.” My voice cracked as searing pain shot through my ankle.

“Where are you?”

I looked down the hill at the football field just below, where my stuff was waiting. Where if I could just make it, I could leave before I had to see the happy new couple again. “Almost to the end of the trail.”

Kes appeared in front of me just like I hoped. His eyes snapped from my face, to my hands, and then to my knees before zeroing in on my ankle. He took it in his hands and I watched as the swelling bled from the joint, along with the blood that had pooled