“The world is always gonna be beautiful, but sometimes it’s covered in ugly.” – Hennessy Echemendia
Fiction. Based on a true fear.
by Amanda Springob
This journal entry is inspired by true events. Some of the characters, names, businesses, incidents, and certain locations and events have been fictionalized for dramatic purposes. Any similarity to the name, character or history of any person is entirely coincidental and unintentional.
Your voicemails live inside my phone
Evidence that I should leave alone
Your words still shock me like a crime scene
That gravel voice that will always haunt me
I flash back to the night I left your place
That thousand-yard stare upon your face
I think of the cops and the threats and the calls
How I couldn’t sleep through most of last fall.
I was tortured by the whole ordeal
And you had the nerve to make an appeal
I had all the evidence of your truest form
You lied to the judge like it was the norm
In the end I won the battle we fought
Except sometimes it feels all for naught
I sit here at night with voicemails in my phone
Reminders of when you wouldn’t leave me alone
When it comes down to it, it’s just paper
Not a guarantee that I’m any safer
Though I hold the restraining order
I still check behind every corner
And the evidence is mine to hold onto forever
To show people the truth, in case you get clever
I hold the proof that shows your crazy
And I try to act like it never fazed me
But at night when I lay here on my own
I wait for the day when you’re out of my phone
But you’re unpredictable, scary, and hence
That’s why I’m saving the evidence.