Lost in the Mourning Forest

Written by Ludmila Barros

I couldn’t remember how I got lost in there. I used to know that path like the back of my hand when I was a child. I used to be the leader of the scouts and my job was, mostly, to guide the rest of the girls during hikes in that specifically forest. However, here I am now, lost, thirsty and near desperation. I was searching in my memories all the knowledge of those times. Should I follow the stars? It was day, maybe the sun. Or should I go North? Or South? Everywhere I looked seemed to be leading me into circles.

I was genuinely afraid of losing my mind and I was feeling the madness just behind that tree, or maybe the other tree, or maybe behind those other ones. Then I looked up, just trying to escape those horrible feeling that I knew was made up by my mind. Yet, who am I to dare facing the reality. I am lost. And as I can remember, I am lost for more than two days by now.

I sat by one quite tall maple tree, I succeed on controlling my breath and by that I calmed down. Those yoga lessons helped a lot with the anxiety problem, especially in that moment. I looked up to all those branches and all those leafs falling. I closed my eyes and started remembering the previous events that lead me to that situation

I woke up early in the morning, by the 6 o’clock alarm. I dressed up, had a great breakfast and gathered all my stuff. I went to my car and there I found a sticky note on the driver’s window - We gotta meet today - just that, no name, no nothing, just an intimation. And even there was no identification, when you date an artist for such a long time, you can expect this, as I call it “nonsenses” or as he calls it “art”.

I was dating Greg for more than 5 five years if I am not mistaken, these commemorative dates were never my thing, I kept forgetting every important anniversary and he would always remind me with a sweet gift. We met as we were finishing College and we were trying to move in together, but it was too hard for him to leave him own place.

Anyway, even though I was used to Greg’s weird stuff, I actually found that note quite scary. Just because for him to leave it there, he must have came to my house during the night. And everybody knows that when the phone rings or door bells in  the middle of the night, the message is definitely no good news. Ignoring that, I just drove to my job.

About half an hour I arrived, he called me, asking for us to meet for lunch, or something like that. But when I said I was busy he made a fuss and almost yelled at me. That was the moment I understood something was wrong with him. I left everything and went to his place right away.

I had the key, so I got in without announcing myself. I was choked by the mess his apartment was. There was trash everywhere, dirty clothes thrown by the floor and the couch, not to mention the smell. As he probably heard me entering, he appeared running on the living room. He was sweating and his face was pure panic. Then I started talking.

- What the hell happened here, Greg? Look at this apartment. It is disgusting.

- I didn’t tell you to come here, why the hell are you here?

- I came because you seemed upset on the phone, I was worried, and I was right.

- I don’t buy it. What you’re doing here? You just came to judge me.

- I didn’t even know your place was like this, I can’t even remember the last time I came here. - I tried to calm down a bit - Let’s sit down, we gotta talk, you’re acting super weird, you gotta say what happened.

Trying to talk slower, I went to the couch to sit, or to find a free space to sit.

- Greg, please, seat with me. - he did - Talk to me, you don’t have to be afraid. I didn’t know you were like this, please, opened up, I wanna help you.

- You don’t.

He was angry and pissed, I could have guessed why, but I didn’t believe he was still thinking about that.

- Lorenza, I truly believe our relationship is over, some people had opened my eyes, my mom did it and now I understand everything you did was to fuck with my life, with my head. I want you to go away, you can take anything that is yours from here, and please, do never come back. - he stood up and got away from me.

- That’s what you wanted to talk with me? You wanna break up? - I got so angry that I am pretty sure my cheeks went pink.

- Now I can see all the things you did to hurt me, in all these years.

- All five fucking years? I got with you just to fuck with you?

- It got pretty clear last year.

I couldn’t believe him, I stood up and went against him. I almost felt like crying.

- Say it, SAY IT ONE MORE, say it loud this nonsense of yours, you went mad and you not realizing it. You even have your fucking mom to support you on this fucking idea. You say it again, it doesn’t matter how many times you insist on that, it is not becoming true. Because it is not fucking true.

- You aborted my baby. You killed it.

I felt all my energy getting out of my body, I felt weak, like my legs stopped working. I went back to the couch to sit again. But he stayed there, defensively standing up, looking at me from above, like he was superior.

- For the millionth time, Greg, it was spontaneous, the doctor said it himself.

- You were not supposed to have done that hiking, but you insisted, you did it anyway, you deliberately killed my baby, and you know that.

- Right in the moment I was almost getting over it, almost forgetting it, you bring it back to the surface. I lost that baby as much as you did, it hurted in me more than it hurted in you. And YOU know that!

- Don’t be a cunt, you did that on purpose! I couldn’t stand looking at your face for the last couple of weeks. Your fucking face just bring me sadness and sorrow, it just remind me of all the misery you brought into my life.

I stayed there, nerveless. The man I was considering marrying was torned. He had turned into someone totally different than I knew, and I hated him for that. All the mean words he said to me, I knew he was crazed, but I couldn’t not believe in that.

- You’re having some problems, I believe you should go ask for help, because I know this is not who you are. - with my hands in my face, I started crying, crying and sobbing. I broke down and sobbed weakly. - You used to be so sweet to me, so kind and loving, what happened in your mind?

Then, surprisingly, he also started crying, yet, he remained angry and furious.

- You ruined my life. In this last year I lost every opportunity I had. People came to me with unrepeatable job offers and turned down all of them. - he paused - I was diagnosed with depression.

- What? When? Why you didn’t tell me? - I got really scared. - How many things do you keep secret from me? We’re together…

- I don’t care any more. - he stopped crying - I am leaving. I going to live with my mom back in Russia. I don’t feel like staying here anymore, I don’t see a reason to do so.

- That’s why your house is a mess? You’re packing? You’re sure you can live without me? - I couldn’t help laughing and I felt he getting angrier with my laugh.

- You know what? I may never had loved you. Looking back I can see all the shit you put me into. I don’t even know why I am talking to you anymore. GET OUT. Get out of my life, you whore.

He grabbed my arm so hard it hurt, I felt the blood being pressured.I tried to scape, hopeless, obviously he was stronger than me. He dragged me to the front door, I stumbled and fell, he pushed me and straightened me back on my feet again. All that while he was yelling nonstopping “get out”. He opened the door and threw me on the hallway. He went back for my purse and threw it on me. And just slammed the door on my face.

After some hours sitting by that tree, I made a decision, and I chose South, after all, I was in Canada, South is the way, there’s nothing in the North, just snow right?

No, I died three days after that.

Yet, sadly, my body was found just three hours later, afterwards they found out that I was actually going to opposite direction I should’ve gone. I was going deeper and deeper into the woods. I don’t know how that happened, maybe I was confused, what the hell, I was a fucking mess.

And that is the story of how my former future husband caused my premature death. Maybe, probably, most certainly it’s not the end you’re expecting. And I must say I FUCKING AGREE. However, life just happens, it does not ask for permission.

And if you’re wondering, Gregory went back to his mother’s house in Russia, got married to a nice girl, had two beautiful kids and died in a terrible car accident. But who cares, right?