Free Forget Me Not by Carolee Dean

insist
    that I had to stay with you,
    when it was so obvious
    you didn’t give a damn
    and never had a clue?
    She wanted to take me
    when she left.
    I screamed and cried.
    Pleaded and begged.
    You locked me in my room.
    I didn’t even get to say good-bye.
    You said it was for my own good,
    though you wouldn’t tell me why.
    But there was something more.
    I could see it in your eyes.
    Were you afraid to be alone?
    Did you want to make a point?
    Was it about control?
    Or about being right?

BACK TO SCHOOL DAYS
    “If you’re done here,
    then it’s time for us
    to go to the school,”
    Elijah tells me.
    “Why?”
    “You have to go back where it happened
    and make a different choice.”
    “No. I can never go up there again.”
    “Okay. Not right away.
    But remember,
    you don’t have a lot of time.”
    “Never,”
    I say, but then again,
    I don’t want to stay
    here, either.
    Because I can’t stand
    to be
    in the hospital
    for another minute
    with my broken body,
    with my token dad,
    with my pain.

NEWTON’S APPLE
    Elijah and I
    get to school just after the
    tardy bell rings. We
    slip into Sci-Tech and then
    hurry down the hall to our
    physical science
    class. Today Mr. M. is
    dropping textbooks to
    see if they fall faster than
    feathers. Or maybe he’s just
    trying to make a
    noise loud enough to get through
    to the kids with i-
    Pods. He gave up on sending
    them to the office because
    they got lost along
    the way and usually
    didn’t come back. Now
    he’s dropping a book on the
    desk of a girl who’s asleep.
    She jerks her head up
    to look at him, turns off her
    music, and says, “What?”
    “What does Newton’s apple mean
    to you?” he asks. “Is it a
    cookie filling?” she
    answers. He groans and explains
    gravity once more.
    Drops another five textbooks.
    Goes back to his desk and takes
    a Valium. It must
    get tedious having to
    repeat everything
    five times per class, six classes
    per day, for year after year.
    He must feel just like
    a robot, but then, aren’t we
    robots too? Going
    from class to class at the sound
    of a bell doesn’t really
    make you feel like an
    entity with free will. I
    never considered
    that the teachers were just as
    trapped as we are. Maybe more.
    Mr. M. has been
    here for twenty-five long years.
    I could make it out
    in four. . . . That is, if I live
    long enough to graduate.

THE BELL RINGS
    Second period and it’s time for
    Elijah’s history class in Humanities.
    I freeze as we walk toward
    the steps leading up to the
    second-floor balcony, because
    the H Hall is on the other side
    of the glass window.
    I can’t see the Hangman,
    but I know he’s
    looking down at me.
    “How can you go in there day after day?” I ask.
    “There’s a lot of stuff in life
    you just have to walk through.
    Every time I walk through
    that building, it reminds me
    of where I don’t want to go.”
    I look up on the second floor
    and think about
    the Hangman in the hallway.
    I see
    a baby pigeon
    fall from the rafters
    onto the ground below.
    The two black birds are instantly on it,
    like Brianna on a salad buffet.
    I once wrote a poem
    about a dead rapper
    with a raven tattoo.
    Ms. Lane talked
    me into signing up
    to perform it
    at the school talent show.
    She said I could be a great
    writer if I stuck
    with it long enough.
    I told her what I really wanted
    was to be an actress, and the real
    reason I was taking her class
    was so that I could write
    better lines for myself.
    She said that whether I became
    an actress, a writer,
    or both,
    I needed to remember
    that connecting with people
    was more important
    than outshining them.
    But now I’m not sure
    I’ll get the chance
    to do either one.

THE TARDY BELL RINGS
    and we’re still standing on the steps.
    “I’ve got to get to class,” says Elijah.
    “If I miss another day, I’m gonna get ISS.”
    I look up at the second floor.
    “I can’t go in there.”
    “You can stay out on the quad.”
    “I don’t want to be