The simple fluttering of eyelashes
Turn and become that of a dream;
Inescapable.
The easy going reassurance
Turn into that of a sewing seam;
Shapeable.
In a flick of the wrist,
A delicate twist,
There again
To be pulled away,
Falling back
Into the day.
Birds. Birds are singing now.
Green. The leaves are green now.
When did the season change?
How am I here?
Why is the sun setting?
My heart is holding dear.
But.. The silence is speaking.
My veins are creaking.
My thoughts are peaking.
In a moment my nails are going to my arms.
My doubt is leaking.
My words are shrieking.
Silence.
There is a warmth within now,
Full of potential.
My hands retract from my arms.
The simple fluttering of eyelashes
Turn and become that of reality;
A beauty that can't be described.
The easy going reassurance
Turned into that of a zipper;
One that is open and untied.
With a single motion,
Tugged to the ocean,
Back again
To run from sight,
Falling back,
Into the night.
Waves. Waves are crashing now.
Noise. My thoughts are restless now.
When did the season change?
How am I here?
The sun is rising.
My heart holds no fear.
Monday 14 December 2015
Monday 7 December 2015
Time
I walked hurriedly towards the bus stop, blowing my warm breath into my hands. The breaths twisted out of my mouth in smooth clouds, contrasting into the chilled winter air.
My runners crunched into the snow in a fast pace, and I made an effort to make it in time.
I did.
First period. I sit in my seat, Aria sits in front of me like usual. She turns around and smiles at me. It makes my heart stutter.
We chat while walking to our next class and she grabs my hand playfully. She kisses my cheek and flutters away to her classroom.
I'm happy.
Lunch time. My stomach growls. But mum spent all her paycheck on the apartment and on liquor. It's been a week and we still haven't had a proper meal.
Aria shares her ham sandwich with me.
It tastes really good.
I hop on the bus. The driver seems angry. He's yelling to move back. We can't, we are already suffocating in each others breaths.
I'm sweating.
I walk home, relieved it's so cold out. I feel refreshed and light. I get home when it's dark out, and notice the entire apartment building is dark.
My gut twists.
I have to climb the stairs because the elevators aren't working. I get to the 5th floor a bit winded, but I'm okay.
I open the door. Mum is sleeping on the couch with a piece of paper in her hand. Curiosity fills me and I pull it out.
In large, upper case letters, EVICTION NOTICE.
I put it back.
I wake up late again. Mum is watching the news. It's weird that she's up so early. I hear the newscaster say how the bombing in our country are getting more frequent as well as more intense.
I find an apple under a pile of rags.
I don't have time to wash it.
I run to the bus in the frosted air.
Aria sits down and talks to me about the bombings. I tell her not to worry. She smiles.
My heart stutters.
Lunch again. She splits her sandwich again.
And she gives me her granola bar. She tells me I need to eat more. When I say she should have it she says she needs to lose weight anyways.
I tell her that's far from the truth.
She asks if I'm okay.
I eat the granola bar and kiss her.
I get home and open the pantry. There's half a bottle of whiskey left. I wonder what my mum did with the other ones.
She's not on the couch.
I scrap some money together for a small pizza.
I keep an extra slice for lunch so Aria doesn't worry.
Mum is watching the news again. There's screaming on the television. I ask her if she had breakfast.
She doesn't hear me.
I ask again.
She slowly turns her head. Her blond hair is stringy and greasy. Her brown eyes are bloodshot. She slurs something.
I leave.
The bus didn't come today. I went to Aria's. Her bus didn't come either.
We lay in silence while listening to the radio.
They're saying our city is a target for the bombings.
She doesn't think I realize she's crying.
I stay the night.
We catch a ride to school. The principle says class isn't cancelled.
First period goes slowly. When Aria looks back at me it makes things better.
Second period comes, Aria and I part ways.
Aria gives me a piece of her sandwich. When I got home after staying at her house I found my slice of pizza was gone.
I thanked her.
She gave me her granola bar again.
I thanked her again.
We go out after school and grab coffee. She pays. I hug her for a long time.
Her hair smells like flowers.
She always smells like flowers.
I get home later. Mum is on the couch. She yells at me for eating all the food. I don't tell her she's the one who ate it, just to vomit it up.
Instead, I go to bed early.
I wake up late and run out the door. My shoes are slipping on the ground as I run.
I just make the bus.
A few people laugh at me.
I watch the scenery pass as we drive.
A lot of people are walking around with large bags filled with what seems to be basic necessities.
We get to school.
First period.
Aria isn't here today.
I walk to second period alone.
I find a spot to sit at lunch. My stomach growls.
I catch the bus home.
Mum isn't in her room or on the couch. Her bathroom door is shut.
When I knock there's no reply.
I try to open it.
It won't.
The doorknob must be jammed again.
I notice there's no more alcohol.
Maybe she stopped.
I leave early, mum wasn't watching the news. I didn't hear her come home last night.
I wonder if she's seeing someone.
The snow is melting into ice and it's even more slick. I'm glad I left early because it takes me twice as long to get to the stop.
First period, Aria arrives late.
She whispers to me that her brother was sick, and her mum couldn't stay home to take care of him.
Her dad is out of town again.
I give her her homework.
We have time in class to work together.
She turns her chair.
Her hair flows behind her back.
She blinks at me.
Everything goes silent.
Suddenly, a loud ringing stings my ears.
Aria's eyes are wide. They look like an endless void of fear.
Her hair is blowing to the side like in a photo shoot.
But the air is coming from the window.
The window that is shattering towards us.
Glass flies into our skin.
By the time that I see blood specking her face, everything is already black.
Everything is already pitch black.
My runners crunched into the snow in a fast pace, and I made an effort to make it in time.
I did.
First period. I sit in my seat, Aria sits in front of me like usual. She turns around and smiles at me. It makes my heart stutter.
We chat while walking to our next class and she grabs my hand playfully. She kisses my cheek and flutters away to her classroom.
I'm happy.
Lunch time. My stomach growls. But mum spent all her paycheck on the apartment and on liquor. It's been a week and we still haven't had a proper meal.
Aria shares her ham sandwich with me.
It tastes really good.
I hop on the bus. The driver seems angry. He's yelling to move back. We can't, we are already suffocating in each others breaths.
I'm sweating.
I walk home, relieved it's so cold out. I feel refreshed and light. I get home when it's dark out, and notice the entire apartment building is dark.
My gut twists.
I have to climb the stairs because the elevators aren't working. I get to the 5th floor a bit winded, but I'm okay.
I open the door. Mum is sleeping on the couch with a piece of paper in her hand. Curiosity fills me and I pull it out.
In large, upper case letters, EVICTION NOTICE.
I put it back.
I wake up late again. Mum is watching the news. It's weird that she's up so early. I hear the newscaster say how the bombing in our country are getting more frequent as well as more intense.
I find an apple under a pile of rags.
I don't have time to wash it.
I run to the bus in the frosted air.
Aria sits down and talks to me about the bombings. I tell her not to worry. She smiles.
My heart stutters.
Lunch again. She splits her sandwich again.
And she gives me her granola bar. She tells me I need to eat more. When I say she should have it she says she needs to lose weight anyways.
I tell her that's far from the truth.
She asks if I'm okay.
I eat the granola bar and kiss her.
I get home and open the pantry. There's half a bottle of whiskey left. I wonder what my mum did with the other ones.
She's not on the couch.
I scrap some money together for a small pizza.
I keep an extra slice for lunch so Aria doesn't worry.
Mum is watching the news again. There's screaming on the television. I ask her if she had breakfast.
She doesn't hear me.
I ask again.
She slowly turns her head. Her blond hair is stringy and greasy. Her brown eyes are bloodshot. She slurs something.
I leave.
The bus didn't come today. I went to Aria's. Her bus didn't come either.
We lay in silence while listening to the radio.
They're saying our city is a target for the bombings.
She doesn't think I realize she's crying.
I stay the night.
We catch a ride to school. The principle says class isn't cancelled.
First period goes slowly. When Aria looks back at me it makes things better.
Second period comes, Aria and I part ways.
Aria gives me a piece of her sandwich. When I got home after staying at her house I found my slice of pizza was gone.
I thanked her.
She gave me her granola bar again.
I thanked her again.
We go out after school and grab coffee. She pays. I hug her for a long time.
Her hair smells like flowers.
She always smells like flowers.
I get home later. Mum is on the couch. She yells at me for eating all the food. I don't tell her she's the one who ate it, just to vomit it up.
Instead, I go to bed early.
I wake up late and run out the door. My shoes are slipping on the ground as I run.
I just make the bus.
A few people laugh at me.
I watch the scenery pass as we drive.
A lot of people are walking around with large bags filled with what seems to be basic necessities.
We get to school.
First period.
Aria isn't here today.
I walk to second period alone.
I find a spot to sit at lunch. My stomach growls.
I catch the bus home.
Mum isn't in her room or on the couch. Her bathroom door is shut.
When I knock there's no reply.
I try to open it.
It won't.
The doorknob must be jammed again.
I notice there's no more alcohol.
Maybe she stopped.
I leave early, mum wasn't watching the news. I didn't hear her come home last night.
I wonder if she's seeing someone.
The snow is melting into ice and it's even more slick. I'm glad I left early because it takes me twice as long to get to the stop.
First period, Aria arrives late.
She whispers to me that her brother was sick, and her mum couldn't stay home to take care of him.
Her dad is out of town again.
I give her her homework.
We have time in class to work together.
She turns her chair.
Her hair flows behind her back.
She blinks at me.
Everything goes silent.
Suddenly, a loud ringing stings my ears.
Aria's eyes are wide. They look like an endless void of fear.
Her hair is blowing to the side like in a photo shoot.
But the air is coming from the window.
The window that is shattering towards us.
Glass flies into our skin.
By the time that I see blood specking her face, everything is already black.
Everything is already pitch black.
Thursday 19 November 2015
A Memory
A simple memory passed through his mind.
Where was he heading?
A hushed wind blew over the hills, and he saw his old self standing on the top of the grassy dune. His chest heaved.
That's right, he ran.
He had forgotten.
His eyes looked upon the rising sun, and the stark yellows being blown across the lightening sky.
Why did he come up here?
Insomnia?
Loneliness?
What made watching a sunrise make you feel content?
What made watching it make you feel in company?
He inhaled a chilled breath of air and pondered.
His thoughts dropped to Julie.
Wondered... where she was.
Wondered... what she was doing.
Just simply... wondered.
His eyes looked down below him, and he watched waves crash against the cliff.
His memories reached back to the last day.
She was tear stained.
Her short black hair was frizzy and unkempt.
Her red lips were puffy and quivering.
His legs were shaking.
He reached for her, but she stepped backwards.
"Get out."
He stepped forward.
It felt like she ripped his heart out.
She was angry.
This would pass.
She didn't mean it.
Another step.
He reached out again.
She screamed.
Why was she resisting?
Another step.
He felt defeated.
Why is this coming up?
Out of the blue?
Julie... Julie listen.
I didn't mean to.
He could hear the waves clearer now.
Her face.
Red lips.
Black hair.
He felt the wind as he grew closer to the ocean.
Red lips.
Black hair.
He was so close now.
Red lips.
Black hair.
He felt like he was flying.
Red lips.
Black hai-
Where was he heading?
A hushed wind blew over the hills, and he saw his old self standing on the top of the grassy dune. His chest heaved.
That's right, he ran.
He had forgotten.
His eyes looked upon the rising sun, and the stark yellows being blown across the lightening sky.
Why did he come up here?
Insomnia?
Loneliness?
What made watching a sunrise make you feel content?
What made watching it make you feel in company?
He inhaled a chilled breath of air and pondered.
His thoughts dropped to Julie.
Wondered... where she was.
Wondered... what she was doing.
Just simply... wondered.
His eyes looked down below him, and he watched waves crash against the cliff.
His memories reached back to the last day.
She was tear stained.
Her short black hair was frizzy and unkempt.
Her red lips were puffy and quivering.
His legs were shaking.
He reached for her, but she stepped backwards.
"Get out."
He stepped forward.
It felt like she ripped his heart out.
She was angry.
This would pass.
She didn't mean it.
Another step.
He reached out again.
She screamed.
Why was she resisting?
Another step.
He felt defeated.
Why is this coming up?
Out of the blue?
Julie... Julie listen.
I didn't mean to.
He could hear the waves clearer now.
Her face.
Red lips.
Black hair.
He felt the wind as he grew closer to the ocean.
Red lips.
Black hair.
He was so close now.
Red lips.
Black hair.
He felt like he was flying.
Red lips.
Black hai-
Sunday 15 November 2015
A Question
Isn't it funny how
a moment before
you could not feel your lips
and now,
in a second,
they're vibrantly alive.
Isn't it curious how
what seemed like forever
was a split time frame
that
didn't
even
last
a
day?
The thoughts are tumbling
through my mind
like a wave crashing
and circling down into the sand.
My breaths are caught like a hit
in the gut,
and the fear of never being able to
breathe again
strikes
me
down
in
a
constant.
I blinked.
My lips parted.
As a question.
Without
an
answer.
Saturday 19 September 2015
The Feelings of Silence
His smile was slight, but I saw it. There was an awkwardness between us that I didn't really understand.
"It's weird," He sighed. Before I could ask what he meant he continued, "How we feel about each other." A silence hung between us and I blinked, not knowing what to say. We were walking now. "How we feel so much towards one another but we don't hold hands or hug or--" He paused for a second, "Kiss."
I felt my face burn, but I agreed. We began walking between the trees quietly, and all I wanted to do was reach out for his hand and pull it into mine. I wanted to look at his face and let his mouth draw my own in.
But I couldn't make myself do it. It seemed that even though I wanted to so badly and even to have his reassurance about how we both felt, I just... couldn't do it.
I wondered why.
Looking back, I thought about our strange relationship.
It seemed as though no matter what I did or didn't do nothing changed. It seemed like there was always an invisible wall.
I wondered if he tried to kiss me whether or not our lips would actually meet. It felt strange thinking about it.
I don't think they would meet.
But I wanted them to.
The silence seemed like a wall too. Something we couldn't really get past. It made my heart heavy not being able to.
I turned to face him and watched his lips move into words. But nothing came out. I squinted and asked his to repeat himself. I watched him laugh and 'speak' again. But again, nothing came out.
It felt like he was further than ever.
I reached forward, but the gap grew. He tilted his head in confusion and opened his mouth again.
"I miss you," His voice sounded like he was speaking under water.
I brought my hands to my face, and I felt a subtle dampness under my eyes.
I choked, "I miss you too."
The distance grew, and the trees seemed to thicken.
He spoke again.
"I can't--" My throat cracked, "I can't hear you."
His face fell with sadness. He tried again. I read his lips.
I was falling in love.
My heart broke.
"I was too," I brushed away tears, "I was too."
"It's weird," He sighed. Before I could ask what he meant he continued, "How we feel about each other." A silence hung between us and I blinked, not knowing what to say. We were walking now. "How we feel so much towards one another but we don't hold hands or hug or--" He paused for a second, "Kiss."
I felt my face burn, but I agreed. We began walking between the trees quietly, and all I wanted to do was reach out for his hand and pull it into mine. I wanted to look at his face and let his mouth draw my own in.
But I couldn't make myself do it. It seemed that even though I wanted to so badly and even to have his reassurance about how we both felt, I just... couldn't do it.
I wondered why.
Looking back, I thought about our strange relationship.
It seemed as though no matter what I did or didn't do nothing changed. It seemed like there was always an invisible wall.
I wondered if he tried to kiss me whether or not our lips would actually meet. It felt strange thinking about it.
I don't think they would meet.
But I wanted them to.
The silence seemed like a wall too. Something we couldn't really get past. It made my heart heavy not being able to.
I turned to face him and watched his lips move into words. But nothing came out. I squinted and asked his to repeat himself. I watched him laugh and 'speak' again. But again, nothing came out.
It felt like he was further than ever.
I reached forward, but the gap grew. He tilted his head in confusion and opened his mouth again.
"I miss you," His voice sounded like he was speaking under water.
I brought my hands to my face, and I felt a subtle dampness under my eyes.
I choked, "I miss you too."
The distance grew, and the trees seemed to thicken.
He spoke again.
"I can't--" My throat cracked, "I can't hear you."
His face fell with sadness. He tried again. I read his lips.
I was falling in love.
My heart broke.
"I was too," I brushed away tears, "I was too."
Friday 10 July 2015
Birthdays.
Growing up, I used to think about my birthday always. I would watch shows and movies and be in awe about how caring and loved a person could be on their birthday. Plus there was one thing that I fantasized about.
Surprise parties.
What says 'We all love you so much and wanted to surprise you to make you feel bombarded with love' better than a surprise party itself?
And every year I would pick up hints like, "Let's go out for the day and just have a nice quiet evening at home." And of course, people not mentioning my birthday at all.
So for the entire day I would get so excited about a possible surprise party, only to feel crushed to see that there was no one.
And every year, that hope had lessened ever so slightly.
My brother's birthday and my own are a month a part, so we would go on vacation in the summer and a month after my own birthday we would celebrate both of our birthdays. But it would be on his birthday.
And my young little self always felt so defeated and sad on this day. Because it wasn't like the shows or movies.
You see, I loved seeing people picking out these heart-filled gifts for people without having to ask the question "What do you want for your birthday?"
Because when people ask that it feels like a jab in the heart.
They don't know you.
They don't care to put thought into the gift.
All of these thoughts just jumble together and make the sad day a depressing day.
I wouldn't want to get out of bed on my birthday. Not because of growing older, but because of how isolated and lonely I felt.
How I feel.
I love other people's birthday's. I enjoy picking out a gift for them and celebrating with them.
But it's never happened to me.
The go to is a dinner out.
I don't like going out for dinner.
Yet every year it's the same "Where do you want to go for dinner?"
And the worst thing about this day?
How incredibly selfish I feel.
Because saying all these things seem awful to me because that isn't who I am. Yet obviously it is because these are my feelings about it.
So it makes me feel like shit.
With telling people how I feel about my birthday, whether I say I just want something they put thought into (or even just hanging out. I really like being with my friends) or saying I don't want to go out for dinner (in which they get sad and don't know how to respond), they do comply.
They'll say, "What do you want to do then?"
And the most horrible thing is I don't know.
If I were to say a surprise party, it would 1. not be a surprise and 2. I would feel depressed then too because I brought it up. Not them.
So maybe television warped my views on birthdays.
I just want today to end and not talk about my birthdays anymore.
Surprise parties.
What says 'We all love you so much and wanted to surprise you to make you feel bombarded with love' better than a surprise party itself?
And every year I would pick up hints like, "Let's go out for the day and just have a nice quiet evening at home." And of course, people not mentioning my birthday at all.
So for the entire day I would get so excited about a possible surprise party, only to feel crushed to see that there was no one.
And every year, that hope had lessened ever so slightly.
My brother's birthday and my own are a month a part, so we would go on vacation in the summer and a month after my own birthday we would celebrate both of our birthdays. But it would be on his birthday.
And my young little self always felt so defeated and sad on this day. Because it wasn't like the shows or movies.
You see, I loved seeing people picking out these heart-filled gifts for people without having to ask the question "What do you want for your birthday?"
Because when people ask that it feels like a jab in the heart.
They don't know you.
They don't care to put thought into the gift.
All of these thoughts just jumble together and make the sad day a depressing day.
I wouldn't want to get out of bed on my birthday. Not because of growing older, but because of how isolated and lonely I felt.
How I feel.
I love other people's birthday's. I enjoy picking out a gift for them and celebrating with them.
But it's never happened to me.
The go to is a dinner out.
I don't like going out for dinner.
Yet every year it's the same "Where do you want to go for dinner?"
And the worst thing about this day?
How incredibly selfish I feel.
Because saying all these things seem awful to me because that isn't who I am. Yet obviously it is because these are my feelings about it.
So it makes me feel like shit.
With telling people how I feel about my birthday, whether I say I just want something they put thought into (or even just hanging out. I really like being with my friends) or saying I don't want to go out for dinner (in which they get sad and don't know how to respond), they do comply.
They'll say, "What do you want to do then?"
And the most horrible thing is I don't know.
If I were to say a surprise party, it would 1. not be a surprise and 2. I would feel depressed then too because I brought it up. Not them.
So maybe television warped my views on birthdays.
I just want today to end and not talk about my birthdays anymore.
Thursday 25 June 2015
Yours Truly, Jenny
I adjusted my jacket and moved the rear-viewing mirror to check my hair. My hands smoothed down the brown spikes and I stared at my light blue eyes for a moment. With nerves in my stomach I cleared my throat and pushed open my car door.
I looked at the home in front of me and began feeling giddy. I had been abroad for the army for about six months. I told Jenny I'd be home withing seven, so she wouldn't be expecting me.
I felt my dopey smile fill my face and I adjusted my jacket once more before bounding up the stairs to our home.
I felt the small box in my pocket and I closed my hand around it gently.
With a deep inhale, I knocked on the door once. Twice. Two more times. How many times was too much? I'm not hearing anything, maybe another knock--
The door opened a crack, and I was met with a familiar pair of brown eyes. Her hair was a lot shorter than it was; no longer falling behind her. It framed her face gracefully.
"Danny?" The shock from her face drained, and I realized I was gripping the box now.
"Hey Jenny." My smile widened.
"Danny, I--" She half-laughed and fell into my arms, "I thought you weren't coming home for another month."
I inhaled the soft lilac that coated her and squeezed her against me.
"I wanted to surprise you, babe." I put my hands on her shoulders and pushed her arm length away to take her in. "You're so beautiful. Oh my God, you're so beautiful." I hugged her again.
She motioned me inside, "Come in, come in, oh you must be so tired." Jenny wiped at her eyes and tugged me into our humble abode.
Upon entering, I noticed everything was still the same. The living room still had the old white leather couch, light wood coffee table and matching side tables. The pictures above the fireplace were at the same angles and it felt the same. It just felt the same. Like home.
That's when I noticed something different.
"Hey, hon, where's--" There was a excited yap and in a fluid motion a black blur whirled around the corner and into my arms, "Luna!" The black lab nuzzled under my arms and sniffed me for what felt like forever, but that dog, my god, was the sweetest thing. I played with her, letting her get out her whining and loving barks. Finally she spun in my lap (with difficulty because she doesn't realize that she's not a puppy anymore. In fact she's one of the largest dogs I've met, but she acts like a cat. It really is the cutest thing.) and rested her head on the ground.
"Danny, when you left she got so sad. She would stare out the window and just cry," Said Jenny as she leaned down to rub Luna's head. "I'm surprised she didn't come out sooner, but she was sleeping. So I think she assumed the door was just some random person."
I laughed, "What, you have a lot of random people coming over lately?"
She squinted, "Just Lina and Jeff with their boys." Her eyes widened, "They're expecting another! Lina said she hopes it's a girl because all that testosterone is just consuming her femme fatale, also, my mother wanted to know when would be a good time to visit her and dad-- when you came back, but we don't have to decide anything right now as that would be-"
"Overwhelming?" I interrupted while laughing.
She grew bashful and kissed my forehead, "Sorry, babe. I know you just came home. There's just so much to tell you and I missed you so much. You got my letters, right?"
I nodded and reached for Jenny's hand, "I got them, read them, and held onto them every time I went out on duty."
She smiled with tears in her eyes. "Good." Something caught her eye and her smile faltered, "Hon, why did you come back early?"
Luna turned on my lap onto her back, exposing her tummy. I rubbed it as I explained, "I got shot on duty. Went clean through my calf. Hurt like a bitch- excuse me, it hurt a lot." I corrected after her look of horror.
"I don't care about you swearing, Daniel, I care about whether or not you're okay. What-- how? Are you okay?"
I nodded, "I'm fine. I was shocked when it happened and didn't realize it had happened because of the adrenaline state I was in. A buddy stopped me and called in help. I had to calm him down in order to tell me what was up." I laughed again, but grew solemn, "He ah, he died while covering my ground when I was in emergency care. Grenade." My throat grew thick.
"Danny... oh my god, I'm so sorry." She pulled me against her, "I am so sorry." I put my hand on her cheek and looked at her eyes.
"It's okay. I'm okay. They discharged me and I am going to be looking for a therapist so I don't develop PTSD, or if I do have it then I can work through it." I kissed her. "I missed you so fucking much." She laughed.
"Language, Danny." We both sat there, hugging, kissing, talking, laughing, and every once in a while I ended up crying. Or she would. I told her stories about my travels and she told me about what had happened here.
And we didn't notice how late it was until we saw the sun peeking through the window.
We were exhausted physically, but mentally we were wired.
So we went for a walk by the park. See, it had this huge hill that let you watch both the sunrises and sunsets.
And when the sun was high enough to bring tears to her eyes I went on one knee and pull out the tiny box.
And when I opened it she cried.
And nodded really aggressively.
Like, I thought her head would topple off.
And I put the small little ring on her fourth finger.
And we fell asleep watching the sunrise.
Thursday 18 June 2015
Sometimes Goodbye Doesn't Have to Last
The flower you hold so delicately
has thorns on its stem as it is not so fragile.
The way you caress the satin petals
is as though it will fall through your fingers like sand.
The same fingers that pulls through your hair
as a habit.
But the moment will come when the petals will wilt
and the thorns will grow weak.
And your hands will drop
this limp plant
and it will lay by your feet,
fallen.
But memories last
and the silk that you felt
will linger
hesitantly.
The flower you held so closely
with the thorns that broke your skin
will always reside withing you.
You'll brush your hair
with the same gentleness
that stroked those simple petals.
But there will be another.
With more vibrant colours.
Striking petals.
A stem with less thorns.
A stem without a weight on its shoulders.
But maybe the goodbye to the flower with an ethereal glow
Is not a different greeting other than that of 'Hello'.
has thorns on its stem as it is not so fragile.
The way you caress the satin petals
is as though it will fall through your fingers like sand.
The same fingers that pulls through your hair
as a habit.
But the moment will come when the petals will wilt
and the thorns will grow weak.
And your hands will drop
this limp plant
and it will lay by your feet,
fallen.
But memories last
and the silk that you felt
will linger
hesitantly.
The flower you held so closely
with the thorns that broke your skin
will always reside withing you.
You'll brush your hair
with the same gentleness
that stroked those simple petals.
But there will be another.
With more vibrant colours.
Striking petals.
A stem with less thorns.
A stem without a weight on its shoulders.
But maybe the goodbye to the flower with an ethereal glow
Is not a different greeting other than that of 'Hello'.
Tuesday 9 June 2015
Tragedies
She sat on the wooden stairs leading to her home.
Her small fingers tapped the dark oak wood and she began clicking the toes of her Mary Jane's together.
She was so used to this place, for she grew up here.
Or, she grew up to her age now.
Which, seeing her short stature and little limbs, a person would assume she would be roughly eight years of age.
Which would be a proper assumption.
This little girl knew every nook and cranny within and outside of this house.
She knew the dark forest green paint chipped every summer and that he papa had to repaint it.
She knew that the wooden steps that she sat upon creaked no matter how little a person weighed.
She knew that when you walked through the bright white door you were hit by the steep staircase- also old dark oak, and when you got to the second floor and made an immediate right her room would be there.
She knew that if you decided to take a left there would be a bathroom.
And if you decided to keep going left there would be her parent's room.
She knew if you walked into the kitchen there was a loose floor board exactly six steps forward and three right, and under this floorboard was enough room for a little eight year old girl to hide during hide-and-go-seek.
She knew that in the endless forest backyard there was a 'cave' made out of logs and dead trees that she never did figure out how it was made before she--- ran out of time.
Her attention snapped away from her thoughts and she pulled the hand that was playing mindlessly with her long dark hair away from her face.
She never did find out what she looked like. Oh no, see, mama had a belief about vanity evolving from when you were a young girl, so she wouldn't let her daughter look in any mirrors.
But her parents told her how lovely and cute she looked every day nonetheless.
Because compliments don't cause vanity.
She moved her hands from her sides to her dress, which was speckled with ash for some reason.
A reason she couldn't remember. But she found it curious nonetheless.
The little girl's blue eyes looked in front of her now, as she watched a mother and father drive up to her home.
Curiosity spiked within her again as she watched the bug-looking car pull up the gravel road.
The car was a pale blue with silver trimmings.
She thought it looked rather boring.
Blue was such a common car colour at this day and age.
But maybe they'll make better cars with better colours.
Come on, Susan. The man spoke. She thought he looked rather dashing. Slicked light brown hair with what seemed to be deep brown eyes. Hm. Handsome. She had decided.
I'm coming, James. Oh my... it really is in rough shape ain't it? The little girl decided the woman was Susan.
The little girl looked up at her house. Rough shape? Never. The paint was just re-painted and everything seemed to have an unearthly pale glow to it.
She looked back to Susan and James. Susan seemed to hobble from the car, and as soon as she got on her feet she caressed her bulging stomach.
She was pregnant, the little girl decided.
She was a very pretty pregnant woman. Her dark blond hair was braided into a bun and even though the little girl couldn't see Susan's eyes due to the large bulbous glasses she was wearing, she decided her eyes were as blue as the darkest pits of the sea.
She clicked her Mary Jane's.
Well the family before us... well I told you already. It was devastating. This was James.
Susan cleared her throat, I am not too sure about this, darling. It could be haunted.
But James scoffed and held out his hand for his darling wife and led them up to the oak stairs leading to the little girl's home.
They paused, admiring the home. The little girl watched them.
Susan was much prettier up close. She had fleshy pink lips that seemed a bit too large for her face and a petite nose that kept her sunglasses up snobbishly. But she was a very pretty woman, the little girl decided.
It'll take some work hon, but my gosh will it be worth it. James was glowing now.
Susan gasped suddenly, reaching to her stomach.
What is it? What's wrong? Is the baby okay? James lurched towards her, bringing her close to his body.
Susan's sunglasses fell off.
The little girl lifted the corners of her lips. Her eyes were as blue as the darkest depths of the sea.
Black.
Yes, yes... it was just flailing. Oh James, I don't know about this. I feel really uneasy. Like someone is watching us... As Susan said this she looked at the little girl sitting in front of her.
The little girl looked at her ebony irises.
And didn't blink as the woman and the man walked up the steps through her after the man cooed her into entering the home.
But when the little girl did blink and look at her home, the dark green paint was splattered with broken windows and beams that had collapsed. The pristine exterior was black and burnt up. The roof had half fallen off, leaving a large wooden rubble pile on the side of the house.
The little girl stood up slowly.
And she looked at her home.
A bright flash crossed her eyes and suddenly she was in her light blue nightgown, sleeping in her bed with light blue bed sheets.
She was very calm.
She was wide awake.
She heard it first.
A strange crackling that was unfamiliar to her, but familiar at the same time.
It was loud.
She shuffled out of her bed after pulling the covers off of her.
She leaned her ear against her ivory door and listened.
It was loud.
Carefully, in a confused state, she opened her door.
And was hit by a thick billowing column of smoke.
Startled, she leaped back, not shutting her door fully.
She could see the bright red flames licking the wooden floor.
And she realized why it sounded familiar in its unfamiliar state.
It sounded like the fireplace at Christmas time.
The little girl smiled a bit then, thinking about Christmas.
How, she won't get Christmas this year.
But how she hoped her mama and papa would get one.
She went to the wall furthest from the door and slid down it until she had her head in her lap. She was coughing a lot now, as though her lungs were burning.
She was getting tired now, and the room was spinning.
The little girl brought her head against the wall, staring at the whirling ceiling.
It was a pretty ceiling.
A pretty home.
Her pretty home.
Then she saw a glint of something, and noticed the window.
Why hadn't she thought of the window?
She opened her mouth, only to be greeted by the smoke.
She was really warm now. She had a thick layer of sweat consuming her.
She tried to get up, placing her hands on the floor to push her up. But her arms gave and her knees buckled, and she lay on the floor. It felt so cool. She wondered if it would cool her down.
Her cheek was on the dark oak floor, and she could see the flames licking the ground around her.
She was hurting a lot now, she knew what was happening and she wanted it to end now.
She was closing her eyes now, thinking about how thirsty she was.
She tried to mover fingers. It hurt, but she still had them. They still moved.
And as she fell asleep she closed her hand around her pretty home.
Another flash crossed her vision. She parted her lips, and she noticed how she wasn't thirsty anymore.
As the couple opened the door she could see the stairs stained black from the fire that hurt her. From the fire that hurt her home.
She felt attachment, but understood what happened and understood what was to happen next.
She was closing her eyes, picturing her pretty home with the dark green paint and dark oak floors and light blue decor.
And she thought about her mama and papa and knew where they were they were okay.
...What did they do with the... bodies? Susan's high pitched voice broke her thoughts. And she kept her eyes open long enough to hear James' reply.
The mother and father were saved in time, but the little girl-- Viola, the fire damaged the way to her room. They couldn't get her in time. They say she died from carbon monoxide poisoning before she was... too injured.
Viola felt herself smile and she closed her eyes.
Mama and papa have another Christmas.
Her small fingers tapped the dark oak wood and she began clicking the toes of her Mary Jane's together.
She was so used to this place, for she grew up here.
Or, she grew up to her age now.
Which, seeing her short stature and little limbs, a person would assume she would be roughly eight years of age.
Which would be a proper assumption.
This little girl knew every nook and cranny within and outside of this house.
She knew the dark forest green paint chipped every summer and that he papa had to repaint it.
She knew that the wooden steps that she sat upon creaked no matter how little a person weighed.
She knew that when you walked through the bright white door you were hit by the steep staircase- also old dark oak, and when you got to the second floor and made an immediate right her room would be there.
She knew that if you decided to take a left there would be a bathroom.
And if you decided to keep going left there would be her parent's room.
She knew if you walked into the kitchen there was a loose floor board exactly six steps forward and three right, and under this floorboard was enough room for a little eight year old girl to hide during hide-and-go-seek.
She knew that in the endless forest backyard there was a 'cave' made out of logs and dead trees that she never did figure out how it was made before she--- ran out of time.
Her attention snapped away from her thoughts and she pulled the hand that was playing mindlessly with her long dark hair away from her face.
She never did find out what she looked like. Oh no, see, mama had a belief about vanity evolving from when you were a young girl, so she wouldn't let her daughter look in any mirrors.
But her parents told her how lovely and cute she looked every day nonetheless.
Because compliments don't cause vanity.
She moved her hands from her sides to her dress, which was speckled with ash for some reason.
A reason she couldn't remember. But she found it curious nonetheless.
The little girl's blue eyes looked in front of her now, as she watched a mother and father drive up to her home.
Curiosity spiked within her again as she watched the bug-looking car pull up the gravel road.
The car was a pale blue with silver trimmings.
She thought it looked rather boring.
Blue was such a common car colour at this day and age.
But maybe they'll make better cars with better colours.
Come on, Susan. The man spoke. She thought he looked rather dashing. Slicked light brown hair with what seemed to be deep brown eyes. Hm. Handsome. She had decided.
I'm coming, James. Oh my... it really is in rough shape ain't it? The little girl decided the woman was Susan.
The little girl looked up at her house. Rough shape? Never. The paint was just re-painted and everything seemed to have an unearthly pale glow to it.
She looked back to Susan and James. Susan seemed to hobble from the car, and as soon as she got on her feet she caressed her bulging stomach.
She was pregnant, the little girl decided.
She was a very pretty pregnant woman. Her dark blond hair was braided into a bun and even though the little girl couldn't see Susan's eyes due to the large bulbous glasses she was wearing, she decided her eyes were as blue as the darkest pits of the sea.
She clicked her Mary Jane's.
Well the family before us... well I told you already. It was devastating. This was James.
Susan cleared her throat, I am not too sure about this, darling. It could be haunted.
But James scoffed and held out his hand for his darling wife and led them up to the oak stairs leading to the little girl's home.
They paused, admiring the home. The little girl watched them.
Susan was much prettier up close. She had fleshy pink lips that seemed a bit too large for her face and a petite nose that kept her sunglasses up snobbishly. But she was a very pretty woman, the little girl decided.
It'll take some work hon, but my gosh will it be worth it. James was glowing now.
Susan gasped suddenly, reaching to her stomach.
What is it? What's wrong? Is the baby okay? James lurched towards her, bringing her close to his body.
Susan's sunglasses fell off.
The little girl lifted the corners of her lips. Her eyes were as blue as the darkest depths of the sea.
Black.
Yes, yes... it was just flailing. Oh James, I don't know about this. I feel really uneasy. Like someone is watching us... As Susan said this she looked at the little girl sitting in front of her.
The little girl looked at her ebony irises.
And didn't blink as the woman and the man walked up the steps through her after the man cooed her into entering the home.
But when the little girl did blink and look at her home, the dark green paint was splattered with broken windows and beams that had collapsed. The pristine exterior was black and burnt up. The roof had half fallen off, leaving a large wooden rubble pile on the side of the house.
The little girl stood up slowly.
And she looked at her home.
A bright flash crossed her eyes and suddenly she was in her light blue nightgown, sleeping in her bed with light blue bed sheets.
She was very calm.
She was wide awake.
She heard it first.
A strange crackling that was unfamiliar to her, but familiar at the same time.
It was loud.
She shuffled out of her bed after pulling the covers off of her.
She leaned her ear against her ivory door and listened.
It was loud.
Carefully, in a confused state, she opened her door.
And was hit by a thick billowing column of smoke.
Startled, she leaped back, not shutting her door fully.
She could see the bright red flames licking the wooden floor.
And she realized why it sounded familiar in its unfamiliar state.
It sounded like the fireplace at Christmas time.
The little girl smiled a bit then, thinking about Christmas.
How, she won't get Christmas this year.
But how she hoped her mama and papa would get one.
She went to the wall furthest from the door and slid down it until she had her head in her lap. She was coughing a lot now, as though her lungs were burning.
She was getting tired now, and the room was spinning.
The little girl brought her head against the wall, staring at the whirling ceiling.
It was a pretty ceiling.
A pretty home.
Her pretty home.
Then she saw a glint of something, and noticed the window.
Why hadn't she thought of the window?
She opened her mouth, only to be greeted by the smoke.
She was really warm now. She had a thick layer of sweat consuming her.
She tried to get up, placing her hands on the floor to push her up. But her arms gave and her knees buckled, and she lay on the floor. It felt so cool. She wondered if it would cool her down.
Her cheek was on the dark oak floor, and she could see the flames licking the ground around her.
She was hurting a lot now, she knew what was happening and she wanted it to end now.
She was closing her eyes now, thinking about how thirsty she was.
She tried to mover fingers. It hurt, but she still had them. They still moved.
And as she fell asleep she closed her hand around her pretty home.
Another flash crossed her vision. She parted her lips, and she noticed how she wasn't thirsty anymore.
As the couple opened the door she could see the stairs stained black from the fire that hurt her. From the fire that hurt her home.
She felt attachment, but understood what happened and understood what was to happen next.
She was closing her eyes, picturing her pretty home with the dark green paint and dark oak floors and light blue decor.
And she thought about her mama and papa and knew where they were they were okay.
...What did they do with the... bodies? Susan's high pitched voice broke her thoughts. And she kept her eyes open long enough to hear James' reply.
The mother and father were saved in time, but the little girl-- Viola, the fire damaged the way to her room. They couldn't get her in time. They say she died from carbon monoxide poisoning before she was... too injured.
Viola felt herself smile and she closed her eyes.
Mama and papa have another Christmas.
Saturday 6 June 2015
Your Story
There are so many possible stories that occur throughout your life.
Possible choices that lead to possible relationships,
Possible relationships that lead to possible romances,
Possible romances that lead to possible loves,
Possible loves that lead to possible lives.
And each choice you make
Shifts the new outcome.
For instance,
Deciding to take a leap of faith and saying hello to someone
you for some reason find intriguing.
Even
If
You
Don't
Know
Them.
The scariest part though isn't asking them how their day was, oh no this is easy.
The scary part is seeing their response.
From how their faces will either light up or grow bored,
From the way they shuffle their feet or clear their throats.
You only have so much power.
Half the power.
They carry the other half, even though it feels like they carry all the power.
You both need to step forward.
And even that is a new possible story.
Another story is if you step forward and they step back.
Or they step to you but you pull down a veil.
The hardest part is accepting who you are for them to accept who you are.
The hardest part is very similar to the scariest part,
But the hardest part is what you do rather than what they do.
But this is the mentality portion.
You have to build up the courage to force yourself to step forward.
You have to remind yourself to breathe and to stop shaking.
That's the hard part.
But the best thing about this story
Is the story itself.
The build up to events,
The reactions they give.
The best part is going to bed at night feeling waves of content and overriding joy fall asleep with you into pale dreams of a happiness you never thought you would have at this time two, three years ago.
The best part is that the story you are in is your story.
It is intriguing and scary and hard.
But my god,
It's beautiful.
Possible choices that lead to possible relationships,
Possible relationships that lead to possible romances,
Possible romances that lead to possible loves,
Possible loves that lead to possible lives.
And each choice you make
Shifts the new outcome.
For instance,
Deciding to take a leap of faith and saying hello to someone
you for some reason find intriguing.
Even
If
You
Don't
Know
Them.
The scariest part though isn't asking them how their day was, oh no this is easy.
The scary part is seeing their response.
From how their faces will either light up or grow bored,
From the way they shuffle their feet or clear their throats.
You only have so much power.
Half the power.
They carry the other half, even though it feels like they carry all the power.
You both need to step forward.
And even that is a new possible story.
Another story is if you step forward and they step back.
Or they step to you but you pull down a veil.
The hardest part is accepting who you are for them to accept who you are.
The hardest part is very similar to the scariest part,
But the hardest part is what you do rather than what they do.
But this is the mentality portion.
You have to build up the courage to force yourself to step forward.
You have to remind yourself to breathe and to stop shaking.
That's the hard part.
But the best thing about this story
Is the story itself.
The build up to events,
The reactions they give.
The best part is going to bed at night feeling waves of content and overriding joy fall asleep with you into pale dreams of a happiness you never thought you would have at this time two, three years ago.
The best part is that the story you are in is your story.
It is intriguing and scary and hard.
But my god,
It's beautiful.
Saturday 30 May 2015
The Past, Present, Future
She tugged her thick wool coat tightly to her core as she trudged through the Serbian storm. Her jaw was clenched shut, and she tried her hardest not to focus on the piercing cold attacking any bare skin. Almost there, Atty. Almost there. Breathe out, breathe in. A few more steps.
She was standing in a busy market, with a light brown shawl wrapped around her shoulders. People were crowding past her, shoving Atty in no specific direction. But for a split second, there was a break in the crowd, and she saw two little girls holding large baskets of goods.
Atty stepped forward, intrigued by these two figures, but as soon as the crowd filled out again she knew they were lost. She stood still, listening to the clatter of the market.
A saleswoman was trying to persuade a few passerby's how rare her jewelry wares were, a man was juggling different vegetables and had a small tin can by his feet, little children were racing through the plaza while shooting peas at one another.
It was a comforting chaos.
All the stands seemed pulled together by worn wooden logs and rope, but there were a few ones that really caught certain attention.
Maybe one or two of the stands had large, royal blue fabric outlining their small walls. And the intricate crest in the centre could only mean they belonged to Royal Family of Karadjodje. Not surprisingly, people seemed to swarm around those booths in awe and wishful thinking to purchase wares that had touched royalty.
A high pitched giggle erupted from the pottery booth, and Atty saw the two girls pointing at different styles of pottery. Atty could see them clearly now. Both of their dark hair twisted into braids that swung down their back, and long brown skirts that collected the dirt that filled the ground.
But they were smiling so brightly. Even with dirt on their faces, they seemed so playful and joyous.
A pang of nostalgia ran through Atty.
She watched the girl with dark blue eyes lead the girl with pale grey ones down the market street.
In a moment, the scene changed to a dark, small house.
She knew if she were to exit the small creaking door she would be surrounded by towering spruce trees and a few miles north would be a long winding river.
A sound caught her attention, and she turned in the dark. She could over-hear whispering coming from the next room over. She walked carefully, and reached out her hands instinctively to feel around her.
Atty felt the hard edge of a shelf, and she brought herself closer to the sound of voices. Finally, she felt a small round door knob that she proceeded to pull open.
There, in the middle of an empty room with nothing more than a few cushions that were piled in the center, were the two girls with a small candle in between them.
They seemed a bit older now, maybe fourteen years of age. Their hair was no longer braided, but free flowing down their shoulders.
The girl with the dark eyes spoke in a hushed tone, "Papa has been lookin' out for a marriage proposal for me, Atty. He says I'm t' be married off to one of them lords."
Younger Atty's mouth quivered, "But you're just a girl. And you are meant t'be watchin' me because if someone finds out where I came from--"
"No one's gunna find out, Atty," The girl reached over and took younger Atty's hands, "You're still safe. B'sides, I'm sure your family stopped lookin' for ya. No one survives winters alone, and you've been gone for so many years now."
"But Celeste--"
"They stopped lookin'." Younger Celeste's voice was hard. She spoke with a tone hinting that the conversation was over.
There was silence in the room, until Celeste's mouth twitched into a grin, "Papa said it may be one of Karadjodje's boys."
A gasp from little Atty startled her, "How can he do that? You're a farmer's child. A daughter of a farmer!"
But Celeste simply smirked and ran a free hand through her hair.
She never answered.
Instead she brought her finger to the wick, and snuffed out the light.
Atty was woken up with a gentle nudge, and welcomed by a hot bowl of porridge. Relieved to see she still had her fingers and toes, she ate ravenously.
Sitting across from her was Celeste. No longer fourteen, and no longer holding a smirk.
They ate in silence, and it wasn't until Celeste put down her spoon that she asked what she had been wanting to since she pulled Atricia through her doors.
"Where did you go, Atty?" Sadness clouded her eyes, and she stared directly at Atricia.
She froze, her spoon to her lips. Atty looked at Celeste, feeling the cool range of emotions she was giving off.
"Where," Celeste's voice cracked, "Where were you?"
Atty placed her spoon into her bowl. "You told me you were leaving. I had to... find a new place that was safe."
"I never said I was leaving anytime soon. You warped it in your mind and you-" Celeste covered her eyes to regain composure, "You just left."
"I didn't come to fight about who was in the wrong--"
"Then why did you come at all?" She was pushing away from the table, flicking her dark hair over her shoulders.
"I heard about what happened. I was working for a family by the water mill. I knew you would hear of me working for them so I changed my name so when they spoke about me your family wouldn't recognize me." Atty pushed herself up from the table, "And when I was sowing the wheat I heard 'em say that Miss Celeste's husband had gone on a trip for goods and hadn't come home this winter." She stepped closer to Celeste, who had brought both hands to her face to stifle cries.
"You think he's dead." Her voice was bitter.
"I think that no one can survive by themselves in these winters. Heck, I barely managed to survive myself and-"
Celeste slammed her hands on the table, "You were stupid enough to travel through this god forsaken storm! But my Andrew is smart, and he wasn't alone! He has our dogs and another man-- Ludriv's sell sword."
Atty fell back to the table, sitting down.
Celeste picked up the wooden bowls and brought them to the compact kitchen. Over he shoulder she called, "How did you get down here anyway? The mill is as far north as crops can grow."
"When one of our wagons were being sent to the marketplace, I caught a ride in the back. But I had to walk the rest of the way after they delivered the goods."
Her eyes widened, "Atty, that isn't a short walk."
Atty genuinely laughed, "Yes I know. I almost lost a few limbs, Cel."
And then Celeste joined her laughter. The air around them seemed to lighten and a comfortable silence lifted between them.
"Cel?" Atty stood up and walked towards her, "What happened?"
"Well," Celeste brushed the back of her hands against her long woven skirt, "I heard you banging on the door, and thought it was the wind at first, but then I heard something crash against it so I rushed over to see what in the world had happened--"
"Not about last night, Celeste. What happened with your husband? Andrew, you said?" Light left Celeste's eyes as she cleared her throat. She pulled her shoulders back and gracefully pulled Atty into the small living area.
"He was in a rage when he decided to leave," She said once they were sitting on the cushions of a two-seated couch, "We had been arguing again about where to put the dogs. We have four of them. All Alaskan malamutes, so they're quite large, and he wanted to keep them outside, but I would not have their deaths on our hands if we could protect them. But he didn't want fleas in the house, so I told him if they had fleas they would've frozen to death by now, and he got all red in the face, yanked open the door and told me he was leaving for a goods run." She inhaled deeply and tried to brush her tears away, "He didn't say where he was goin'. But I saw another man by our wagon. And he had Ludriv's colours on. Y'know, them red and yellows."
Atty nodded, listening intently.
"But he left earlier this week. And the storm has only gotten worse."
"If he passes, you won't be sent notice until spring."
"He won't pass away, Atricia." Celeste glared at her, "As I said before, he is a smart man. With a swordsman. And dogs."
"A man who wields a sword and a few strong dogs won't protect a man from frost." Atty recoiled with how harshly she spoke, but regained herself, "What I mean is, there is a chance he can survive, but he has to be lucky."
Celeste didn't respond. She simply stood up and began cleaning the room, straightening books and what little belongings she really had.
"Celeste... Andrew isn't a name of one of Karadjodje's boys," Celeste froze, "What happened?"
She gave a harsh laugh, "Like you care. You bolted, Atricia. You left."
"You know why I had to leave!" Atty was sitting on the edge of the couch, "I would've been hung! Or crucified, or drowned, or something!"
"That doesn't mean I didn't need you! My mother was tried as soon as you left because you caused such a disturbance! Everyone had thought she was a witch, Atty. And then she was drowned."
The blood drained from Atricia's face. Celeste was breathing heavily, gripping her skirt so tightly that Atty could clearly see the veins running up her arms.
"And that's when they began thinking I was a witch. But they couldn't prove it because my father was an important farmer. But then he stood up for my mother, Atricia. And he was killed while rounding the pigs for the winter last season. Shot through the heart," Celeste's hands began shaking, "His murderer said that he was seeing if his heart was in the center of his chest like a normal person. Because witches don't have hearts." Their eyes met, "But you would know that, Atty."
She was in a forest, and in front of her was a tiny cottage. The stones were dislodged in a few areas, and it almost seemed like a pile of rubble. But she knew it well. Atty stepped forward, feeling the crunch of branches and leaves under her bare feet. The air was crisp, but winter didn't fully envelop these areas. It was too far south.
She saw a child, maybe seven years of age running towards her. The girl had short dark hair tucked behind her ears, and large grey eyes.
The girl flurried past her in a long grey dress. And she smelled a faint scent of smoke.
Looking back to the cottage, she saw a small line of smoke exiting the roof. But she wasn't afraid, for she knew the house wasn't on fire. It was the fireplace. She knew that if she would walk through the narrow spruce door it would be immediately to her right, and a middle aged woman would be scrubbing clothes in front of it. The woman may be sitting on her knees, or on a small worn cushion. But there would be no man in that house, for he had died before this little girl was born.
There was a sharp scream that split the air, and Atty ran involuntarily towards it.
In the middle of a ring of mushrooms sat the girl, with a gaping cut from her ankle to her knee. Atty saw immediately what had caused it. But she already knew. Even if she didn't see the jagged stick poking up from the ground, she would have known the little girl had tripped over her feet and caught her leg on it.
And she knew that the little girl was going to place her hand on her leg in panic and cry for help.
And how in a few moments the cut would seal and there would be no evidence of the cut except for dry blood.
The girl stopped crying-- and slowly she stood up.
And she left the fairy ring.
"Atricia?" Celeste was snarling, "You come here and you don't even listen to me! Unbelievable."
"No- I'm sorry, Celeste. I was just remembering something. Please, please continue."
She hesitated, still angry.
"Andrew isn't a lord. In fact, he was as poor as we were. A merchant. But his cousin is a duke." She shrugged like that explained why she was still alive, "He offered protection in exchange for marriage. I said yes in a heartbeat." She looked away, "I love him... it took some time. But I do."
She lifted her chin, "Really I should thank you. I wouldn't've met him if you hadn't run off."
"I'm so sorry, Cel. I didn't know your parents would be targeted."
"Yeah right, you and your freakish powers probably foretold you'd die if they didn't. I can give you some blankets, but you need to leave soon, Atty. I don't want you here. This isn't your home anymore."
Atty noticed then how solemn this house was. Celeste would talk for hours on how she wanted a home full of children. But there were none. This wasn't anyone's home.
Atty's voice was a mere whisper, "Cel... did you two ever have kids?"
Celeste grew frigid.
She whispered, "They gave me something. So I couldn't carry children. They didn't want to chance it if I were a witch."
The same heavy silence separated them and Atty stood up.
"I'm so sorry. I just wanted to come to see if you needed help until Andrew came back. I didn't mean to be such a disturbance." Atty began to pass Celeste to gather her heavy jacket, but Celeste gripped her arm.
"You weren't a disturbance until you decided to leave."
She was watching the little girl hurry to her home-- Atty's home, and she followed close behind.
Inside, just as she knew, was the woman kneeling by the fire scrubbing at stained clothes.
The girl passed behind carelessly, knocking a metal basin over.
"Atricia!" The woman shouted as the girl hurried away, "Atricia, get back here and help me clean this up!"
Cautiously, the little girl entered again, mumbling an apology and kneeling down to help.
But the woman saw the scarlet colouring on her leg, and her brows furrowed.
Little Atty noticed this, and slowly adjusted her skirt over her legs.
Neither of them moved.
Little Atty glanced at the door, contemplating whether or not she would make it in time.
She brought her gaze back to the woman's.
The lady spoke, "Atricia... are you alright?"
Little Atty licked her dry lips, "Of course, Serena. I am ever so sorry about knocking this tub over, but I remember that I had forgotten something outside," She stood up, "If you were to excuse me..." She bowed and began towards the door.
"A slave girl does not exit the owner's household until they are dismissed or told to do so."
Her voice was cold.
Atty could see the little girl begin to look for ways to get out.
But the door was the safest.
"Of... of course, my lady." The little girl responded.
"Oh my," Serena exclaimed, "I haven't run to the market yet. I need to go collect some pieces of clothing," Serena stood up and brushed her long brown hair behind her neck, "It is supposed to snow soon." They stared at each other, waiting. Serena stepped forward quickly, and in a swift movement Serena lurched towards little Atty, and the girl let out a scream.
"Help!" The little girl yelled.
Serena trapped the girl easily within her arms, and when the girl bit Serena's arm she cussed.
The lady spat, "How dare a witch be livin' on my lands. I took you in and you have lied to me you piece of filth!"
The little girl got out of her hold and bolted to the door. Being so much smaller than the woman, she dodged what sounded like a plate smashing against the wall.
She was outside in a blur, and Atty watched her sprint into the woods, her short dark hair fading into the trees.
She was staring into the ocean. She always thought Celeste's eyes were like the ocean. So blue and dark and endless.
But Atty had never seen an ocean, but she liked to imagine that the colour would be the same as Celeste's irises.
That night she slept on the couch, listening to the wind howl outside.
And the next morning she grabbed her coat after a swift meal, and opened Celeste's door.
Celeste was standing behind her, watching her leave.
They hadn't spoken all morning.
Atty looked over her shoulder, and caught sight of the ocean.
Celeste's face cracked a bit, and she reached out towards Atty. They hugged for a long while, saying the goodbye that should have happened a few years prior.
And as Atty pulled away she said, "I hope your faith keeps your husband safe."
Then she walked through the doorway to the open sky.
The sky was a pale blue, clear of any clouds.
With each step she began to feel the chill of the winter.
But the wind had passed and the sun was shining.
She pulled her hood around her face and she began away from the market place, away from her friend.
Atty watched the little girl scurry through the woods, panting with exhaustion. She was confused as to where to go, but didn't want to stop running in fear of what would happen.
Serena would tell the towns folks.
If any lord or duke found out then she would be killed.
Hunted like a dog.
And Serena wasn't one to forget.
The little girl stumbled upon a strange home with tiny blue flowers dotting the front grassy region.
Tired and cold, she knocked on the door.
An old man emerged with a long white beard. He squeezed his eyes together to see the girl before him. He broke out into a tooth-less grin and motioned her inside.
"Ah, sweet little Atty." But as he bent down, he pointed over the mountains and whispered something to her.
She nodded thoughtfully and bowed to him. She then began walking north.
Atty was freezing. But she was there.
Familiar blue flowers dotted her way, and she found herself before a compact home.
She knocked, just as before, and the old man appeared.
He smiled his tooth-less smile.
"Ah, sweet little Atty. You're ready now."
He let her inside, the overwhelming scent of lilac.
And she felt relieved when he rose his hand in the air, flicked it, and shut the door.
She could see it now-- a tiny brown roof that seemed to glow in the middle of the snow. Her heart leaped to her throat as her pace quickened.
Yes. Yes. You made it. You made it Atty!
Her breathing was increasing, and in a moment she was banging on the large oak door. She tried to yell, but her throat was too frozen to speak. She couldn't feel her face, and as she was banging on the door she felt her fingers begin to fade.
No. Come on. Celeste. Answer. The. Door.
Finally she had to put her hand back into her coat with defeat.
Fear hit her then, as she didn't know what was going to happen to her. She was feeling rather sleepy, and she knew if she closed her eyes she would not open them.
Suddenly the door flew open, and she felt a flurry of hands pull her into a shield of warmth.
"Atty? Atricia Belvrom?" Atty saw a familiar pair of dark blue eyes, and then all she saw was black.
There was a slight sound of crackling, and Atty wiggled her fingers reflexively. Beneath her she felt a soft fabric. Wool. There was an overwhelming smell of campfire, as well as... lilac. She parted her lips to speak, only to be attacks by the dry sandpaper that was her tongue.
This pulled her eyes open with confusion. The room around her was dim, with only a faint glow of orange.
She was excessively thirsty, but she couldn't for the life of her pull herself up. Her legs hurt. Her face was numb. Her torso was throbbing.
She was excessively thirsty, but she couldn't for the life of her pull herself up. Her legs hurt. Her face was numb. Her torso was throbbing.
"Drink this." A warm voice cooed and brought a large jug to Atty's lips. As soon as the water hit her tongue she was inhaling it.
"Don't drink too fast, you'll just--" Before the voice could finish, Atty rolled over and heaved up the water she drank.
"Vomit." The woman exhaled as a parent would a child, and began mopping up the water.
Atty was able to see her now, and she was struck with familiarity. The woman who was bending to clean up had long wavy dark hair that hit her waist, and the way she carried herself was with an utmost pristine confidence that only one person she had ever known would have.
Celeste Ilik.
"Celeste," Atty's voice sounded scratchy and raw, but she continued, "Cel. Oh thank the lord. I was hoping you still lived 'ere." She broke into a smile and found herself fumbling into Celeste's arms.
"Oh!" Taken by surprise, it took a moment for Celeste to return the hug. "What in god's send are you doing here, Atty? No, ignore me. You need to sleep and we can speak in the morning." Atty didn't need a second offer, as she was asleep moments after Celeste tugged a thick blanket on top of her.
She was standing in a busy market, with a light brown shawl wrapped around her shoulders. People were crowding past her, shoving Atty in no specific direction. But for a split second, there was a break in the crowd, and she saw two little girls holding large baskets of goods.
Atty stepped forward, intrigued by these two figures, but as soon as the crowd filled out again she knew they were lost. She stood still, listening to the clatter of the market.
A saleswoman was trying to persuade a few passerby's how rare her jewelry wares were, a man was juggling different vegetables and had a small tin can by his feet, little children were racing through the plaza while shooting peas at one another.
It was a comforting chaos.
All the stands seemed pulled together by worn wooden logs and rope, but there were a few ones that really caught certain attention.
Maybe one or two of the stands had large, royal blue fabric outlining their small walls. And the intricate crest in the centre could only mean they belonged to Royal Family of Karadjodje. Not surprisingly, people seemed to swarm around those booths in awe and wishful thinking to purchase wares that had touched royalty.
A high pitched giggle erupted from the pottery booth, and Atty saw the two girls pointing at different styles of pottery. Atty could see them clearly now. Both of their dark hair twisted into braids that swung down their back, and long brown skirts that collected the dirt that filled the ground.
But they were smiling so brightly. Even with dirt on their faces, they seemed so playful and joyous.
A pang of nostalgia ran through Atty.
She watched the girl with dark blue eyes lead the girl with pale grey ones down the market street.
In a moment, the scene changed to a dark, small house.
She knew if she were to exit the small creaking door she would be surrounded by towering spruce trees and a few miles north would be a long winding river.
A sound caught her attention, and she turned in the dark. She could over-hear whispering coming from the next room over. She walked carefully, and reached out her hands instinctively to feel around her.
Atty felt the hard edge of a shelf, and she brought herself closer to the sound of voices. Finally, she felt a small round door knob that she proceeded to pull open.
There, in the middle of an empty room with nothing more than a few cushions that were piled in the center, were the two girls with a small candle in between them.
They seemed a bit older now, maybe fourteen years of age. Their hair was no longer braided, but free flowing down their shoulders.
The girl with the dark eyes spoke in a hushed tone, "Papa has been lookin' out for a marriage proposal for me, Atty. He says I'm t' be married off to one of them lords."
Younger Atty's mouth quivered, "But you're just a girl. And you are meant t'be watchin' me because if someone finds out where I came from--"
"No one's gunna find out, Atty," The girl reached over and took younger Atty's hands, "You're still safe. B'sides, I'm sure your family stopped lookin' for ya. No one survives winters alone, and you've been gone for so many years now."
"But Celeste--"
"They stopped lookin'." Younger Celeste's voice was hard. She spoke with a tone hinting that the conversation was over.
There was silence in the room, until Celeste's mouth twitched into a grin, "Papa said it may be one of Karadjodje's boys."
A gasp from little Atty startled her, "How can he do that? You're a farmer's child. A daughter of a farmer!"
But Celeste simply smirked and ran a free hand through her hair.
She never answered.
Instead she brought her finger to the wick, and snuffed out the light.
Atty was woken up with a gentle nudge, and welcomed by a hot bowl of porridge. Relieved to see she still had her fingers and toes, she ate ravenously.
Sitting across from her was Celeste. No longer fourteen, and no longer holding a smirk.
They ate in silence, and it wasn't until Celeste put down her spoon that she asked what she had been wanting to since she pulled Atricia through her doors.
"Where did you go, Atty?" Sadness clouded her eyes, and she stared directly at Atricia.
She froze, her spoon to her lips. Atty looked at Celeste, feeling the cool range of emotions she was giving off.
"Where," Celeste's voice cracked, "Where were you?"
Atty placed her spoon into her bowl. "You told me you were leaving. I had to... find a new place that was safe."
"I never said I was leaving anytime soon. You warped it in your mind and you-" Celeste covered her eyes to regain composure, "You just left."
"I didn't come to fight about who was in the wrong--"
"Then why did you come at all?" She was pushing away from the table, flicking her dark hair over her shoulders.
"I heard about what happened. I was working for a family by the water mill. I knew you would hear of me working for them so I changed my name so when they spoke about me your family wouldn't recognize me." Atty pushed herself up from the table, "And when I was sowing the wheat I heard 'em say that Miss Celeste's husband had gone on a trip for goods and hadn't come home this winter." She stepped closer to Celeste, who had brought both hands to her face to stifle cries.
"You think he's dead." Her voice was bitter.
"I think that no one can survive by themselves in these winters. Heck, I barely managed to survive myself and-"
Celeste slammed her hands on the table, "You were stupid enough to travel through this god forsaken storm! But my Andrew is smart, and he wasn't alone! He has our dogs and another man-- Ludriv's sell sword."
Atty fell back to the table, sitting down.
Celeste picked up the wooden bowls and brought them to the compact kitchen. Over he shoulder she called, "How did you get down here anyway? The mill is as far north as crops can grow."
"When one of our wagons were being sent to the marketplace, I caught a ride in the back. But I had to walk the rest of the way after they delivered the goods."
Her eyes widened, "Atty, that isn't a short walk."
Atty genuinely laughed, "Yes I know. I almost lost a few limbs, Cel."
And then Celeste joined her laughter. The air around them seemed to lighten and a comfortable silence lifted between them.
"Cel?" Atty stood up and walked towards her, "What happened?"
"Well," Celeste brushed the back of her hands against her long woven skirt, "I heard you banging on the door, and thought it was the wind at first, but then I heard something crash against it so I rushed over to see what in the world had happened--"
"Not about last night, Celeste. What happened with your husband? Andrew, you said?" Light left Celeste's eyes as she cleared her throat. She pulled her shoulders back and gracefully pulled Atty into the small living area.
"He was in a rage when he decided to leave," She said once they were sitting on the cushions of a two-seated couch, "We had been arguing again about where to put the dogs. We have four of them. All Alaskan malamutes, so they're quite large, and he wanted to keep them outside, but I would not have their deaths on our hands if we could protect them. But he didn't want fleas in the house, so I told him if they had fleas they would've frozen to death by now, and he got all red in the face, yanked open the door and told me he was leaving for a goods run." She inhaled deeply and tried to brush her tears away, "He didn't say where he was goin'. But I saw another man by our wagon. And he had Ludriv's colours on. Y'know, them red and yellows."
Atty nodded, listening intently.
"But he left earlier this week. And the storm has only gotten worse."
"If he passes, you won't be sent notice until spring."
"He won't pass away, Atricia." Celeste glared at her, "As I said before, he is a smart man. With a swordsman. And dogs."
"A man who wields a sword and a few strong dogs won't protect a man from frost." Atty recoiled with how harshly she spoke, but regained herself, "What I mean is, there is a chance he can survive, but he has to be lucky."
Celeste didn't respond. She simply stood up and began cleaning the room, straightening books and what little belongings she really had.
"Celeste... Andrew isn't a name of one of Karadjodje's boys," Celeste froze, "What happened?"
She gave a harsh laugh, "Like you care. You bolted, Atricia. You left."
"You know why I had to leave!" Atty was sitting on the edge of the couch, "I would've been hung! Or crucified, or drowned, or something!"
"That doesn't mean I didn't need you! My mother was tried as soon as you left because you caused such a disturbance! Everyone had thought she was a witch, Atty. And then she was drowned."
The blood drained from Atricia's face. Celeste was breathing heavily, gripping her skirt so tightly that Atty could clearly see the veins running up her arms.
"And that's when they began thinking I was a witch. But they couldn't prove it because my father was an important farmer. But then he stood up for my mother, Atricia. And he was killed while rounding the pigs for the winter last season. Shot through the heart," Celeste's hands began shaking, "His murderer said that he was seeing if his heart was in the center of his chest like a normal person. Because witches don't have hearts." Their eyes met, "But you would know that, Atty."
She was in a forest, and in front of her was a tiny cottage. The stones were dislodged in a few areas, and it almost seemed like a pile of rubble. But she knew it well. Atty stepped forward, feeling the crunch of branches and leaves under her bare feet. The air was crisp, but winter didn't fully envelop these areas. It was too far south.
She saw a child, maybe seven years of age running towards her. The girl had short dark hair tucked behind her ears, and large grey eyes.
The girl flurried past her in a long grey dress. And she smelled a faint scent of smoke.
Looking back to the cottage, she saw a small line of smoke exiting the roof. But she wasn't afraid, for she knew the house wasn't on fire. It was the fireplace. She knew that if she would walk through the narrow spruce door it would be immediately to her right, and a middle aged woman would be scrubbing clothes in front of it. The woman may be sitting on her knees, or on a small worn cushion. But there would be no man in that house, for he had died before this little girl was born.
There was a sharp scream that split the air, and Atty ran involuntarily towards it.
In the middle of a ring of mushrooms sat the girl, with a gaping cut from her ankle to her knee. Atty saw immediately what had caused it. But she already knew. Even if she didn't see the jagged stick poking up from the ground, she would have known the little girl had tripped over her feet and caught her leg on it.
And she knew that the little girl was going to place her hand on her leg in panic and cry for help.
And how in a few moments the cut would seal and there would be no evidence of the cut except for dry blood.
The girl stopped crying-- and slowly she stood up.
And she left the fairy ring.
"Atricia?" Celeste was snarling, "You come here and you don't even listen to me! Unbelievable."
"No- I'm sorry, Celeste. I was just remembering something. Please, please continue."
She hesitated, still angry.
"Andrew isn't a lord. In fact, he was as poor as we were. A merchant. But his cousin is a duke." She shrugged like that explained why she was still alive, "He offered protection in exchange for marriage. I said yes in a heartbeat." She looked away, "I love him... it took some time. But I do."
She lifted her chin, "Really I should thank you. I wouldn't've met him if you hadn't run off."
"I'm so sorry, Cel. I didn't know your parents would be targeted."
"Yeah right, you and your freakish powers probably foretold you'd die if they didn't. I can give you some blankets, but you need to leave soon, Atty. I don't want you here. This isn't your home anymore."
Atty noticed then how solemn this house was. Celeste would talk for hours on how she wanted a home full of children. But there were none. This wasn't anyone's home.
Atty's voice was a mere whisper, "Cel... did you two ever have kids?"
Celeste grew frigid.
She whispered, "They gave me something. So I couldn't carry children. They didn't want to chance it if I were a witch."
The same heavy silence separated them and Atty stood up.
"I'm so sorry. I just wanted to come to see if you needed help until Andrew came back. I didn't mean to be such a disturbance." Atty began to pass Celeste to gather her heavy jacket, but Celeste gripped her arm.
"You weren't a disturbance until you decided to leave."
She was watching the little girl hurry to her home-- Atty's home, and she followed close behind.
Inside, just as she knew, was the woman kneeling by the fire scrubbing at stained clothes.
The girl passed behind carelessly, knocking a metal basin over.
"Atricia!" The woman shouted as the girl hurried away, "Atricia, get back here and help me clean this up!"
Cautiously, the little girl entered again, mumbling an apology and kneeling down to help.
But the woman saw the scarlet colouring on her leg, and her brows furrowed.
Little Atty noticed this, and slowly adjusted her skirt over her legs.
Neither of them moved.
Little Atty glanced at the door, contemplating whether or not she would make it in time.
She brought her gaze back to the woman's.
The lady spoke, "Atricia... are you alright?"
Little Atty licked her dry lips, "Of course, Serena. I am ever so sorry about knocking this tub over, but I remember that I had forgotten something outside," She stood up, "If you were to excuse me..." She bowed and began towards the door.
"A slave girl does not exit the owner's household until they are dismissed or told to do so."
Her voice was cold.
Atty could see the little girl begin to look for ways to get out.
But the door was the safest.
"Of... of course, my lady." The little girl responded.
"Oh my," Serena exclaimed, "I haven't run to the market yet. I need to go collect some pieces of clothing," Serena stood up and brushed her long brown hair behind her neck, "It is supposed to snow soon." They stared at each other, waiting. Serena stepped forward quickly, and in a swift movement Serena lurched towards little Atty, and the girl let out a scream.
"Help!" The little girl yelled.
Serena trapped the girl easily within her arms, and when the girl bit Serena's arm she cussed.
The lady spat, "How dare a witch be livin' on my lands. I took you in and you have lied to me you piece of filth!"
The little girl got out of her hold and bolted to the door. Being so much smaller than the woman, she dodged what sounded like a plate smashing against the wall.
She was outside in a blur, and Atty watched her sprint into the woods, her short dark hair fading into the trees.
She was staring into the ocean. She always thought Celeste's eyes were like the ocean. So blue and dark and endless.
But Atty had never seen an ocean, but she liked to imagine that the colour would be the same as Celeste's irises.
That night she slept on the couch, listening to the wind howl outside.
And the next morning she grabbed her coat after a swift meal, and opened Celeste's door.
Celeste was standing behind her, watching her leave.
They hadn't spoken all morning.
Atty looked over her shoulder, and caught sight of the ocean.
Celeste's face cracked a bit, and she reached out towards Atty. They hugged for a long while, saying the goodbye that should have happened a few years prior.
And as Atty pulled away she said, "I hope your faith keeps your husband safe."
Then she walked through the doorway to the open sky.
The sky was a pale blue, clear of any clouds.
With each step she began to feel the chill of the winter.
But the wind had passed and the sun was shining.
She pulled her hood around her face and she began away from the market place, away from her friend.
Atty watched the little girl scurry through the woods, panting with exhaustion. She was confused as to where to go, but didn't want to stop running in fear of what would happen.
Serena would tell the towns folks.
If any lord or duke found out then she would be killed.
Hunted like a dog.
And Serena wasn't one to forget.
The little girl stumbled upon a strange home with tiny blue flowers dotting the front grassy region.
Tired and cold, she knocked on the door.
An old man emerged with a long white beard. He squeezed his eyes together to see the girl before him. He broke out into a tooth-less grin and motioned her inside.
"Ah, sweet little Atty." But as he bent down, he pointed over the mountains and whispered something to her.
She nodded thoughtfully and bowed to him. She then began walking north.
Atty was freezing. But she was there.
Familiar blue flowers dotted her way, and she found herself before a compact home.
She knocked, just as before, and the old man appeared.
He smiled his tooth-less smile.
"Ah, sweet little Atty. You're ready now."
He let her inside, the overwhelming scent of lilac.
And she felt relieved when he rose his hand in the air, flicked it, and shut the door.
Saturday 23 May 2015
A Thought
I have always been told I am "Pretty cute" or "Pretty pretty."
And I have been told "You're pretty but..." and then have them drift off without finishing their thought.
As I grew up I always wondered why it was just "Cute" or "pretty".
Why was the glass so close to being full, but so far away?
Why wasn't no matter what I did make a person say I was something rather than partially something?
I still don't know.
And I probably won't.
And I have been told "You're pretty but..." and then have them drift off without finishing their thought.
As I grew up I always wondered why it was just "Cute" or "pretty".
Why was the glass so close to being full, but so far away?
Why wasn't no matter what I did make a person say I was something rather than partially something?
I still don't know.
And I probably won't.
Friday 15 May 2015
To My Father
What an awful person I'm becoming,
I'm terribly sorry.
I guess I'm just in the wrong.
Always stuck between who I am
What I'm feeling
and how people want me to act.
I guess since it seems like I have been doing so well
you have forgotten what has happened
what is happening.
"But you're adult." You say.
"You can't live in college dorms. Too many awful things happen there." You contradict yourself with.
"I'm going to get a house with a basement quite for you to live." You contradict yourself with.
And no matter what I say
Act
Or do
I will never
ever
be
or have enough
to convince you
otherwise.
What a terribly awful person I'm becoming.
I'm stuck
and my heart hurts a lot right now.
And I don't know what to say
because my emotions aren't proper right now
and you get angry with me
and say how I need to act like an adult
because my disrespect
is unacceptable
and I'm stuck
and I don't know what to do
and it's really hard to breathe
and I just need to get away
and you're pulling my by reigns
and choking words down my throat
so quickly that I can't answer
so I stay silent
so you get angrier
so I close my eyes
so you exhale
and everything gets quiet.
And I don't know what to do
what to say
how to think.
And you mutter something that I could only imagine
and you leave.
And I know that you've left a part of me in this room
and you won't take it back
and this will happen again
and again
and again
until you have nothing left of me
and I am nothing
to
you.
I'm terribly sorry.
I guess I'm just in the wrong.
Always stuck between who I am
What I'm feeling
and how people want me to act.
I guess since it seems like I have been doing so well
you have forgotten what has happened
what is happening.
"But you're adult." You say.
"You can't live in college dorms. Too many awful things happen there." You contradict yourself with.
"I'm going to get a house with a basement quite for you to live." You contradict yourself with.
And no matter what I say
Act
Or do
I will never
ever
be
or have enough
to convince you
otherwise.
What a terribly awful person I'm becoming.
I'm stuck
and my heart hurts a lot right now.
And I don't know what to say
because my emotions aren't proper right now
and you get angry with me
and say how I need to act like an adult
because my disrespect
is unacceptable
and I'm stuck
and I don't know what to do
and it's really hard to breathe
and I just need to get away
and you're pulling my by reigns
and choking words down my throat
so quickly that I can't answer
so I stay silent
so you get angrier
so I close my eyes
so you exhale
and everything gets quiet.
And I don't know what to do
what to say
how to think.
And you mutter something that I could only imagine
and you leave.
And I know that you've left a part of me in this room
and you won't take it back
and this will happen again
and again
and again
until you have nothing left of me
and I am nothing
to
you.
The Chapel
She walked through the doorway, a smile lingering on her her lips.
"You're late." His calm voice echoed through the empty house.
She stepped into the kitchen, gently folding her hands in front of her. She felt the soft fabric of her dress and inhaled the smell of the forest.
"At least I showered." She replied playfully.
The man walked into the light. His jet black hair was greased back, and even though he was wearing a suit, she could see the dirt stains on his hands. They watched each other for a moment before he rose his hand slowly, and closed the space between them.
In a fluid motion he brushed a stray curl away from her face, "You look lovely, Vi."
Her smile only widened, "Are you ready, Jackson?"
He didn't reply quickly, instead he stepped back and took her in.
Vi's smile began to falter, but before she could begin to doubt herself he grabbed her hands.
"I've been ready for a long time."
In the quiet house, they held still.
Jackson led her to the door, and they walked down to their small town car. He waited for her to get comfortable in her seat before he shut the door and moved to the driver's seat.
The drive was quite. Comfortable. Vi watched the trees soar past them as they made their way to the building. She tried to count how many trees they passed, but lost count almost right away.
They didn't turn on the radio, but instead listened to one another's heart beat.
It felt like a moment, but it took them half an hour to get there.
He pulled up and they sat there. Comfortable.
He then turned to her and leaned to kiss her cheek. He paused to inhale her perfume. It was a mix of lilacs and fresh, light air.
As he pulled away he muttered, "I'll see you soon, darling."
Jackson exited the car, only to stop to pull her door open to let her out. But she waited in the car for several moments until the man was inside the white marble building.
Vi squeezed her fingers, and let her right forefinger linger on the small, thin band that wrapped around her left ring-finger.
She smoothed out her dress and stood out, into the wind.
Vi pulled her little purse out in front of her, and pulled out a small, compact mirror. She rose it to her face and began fixing minor make-up mistakes. She smoothed out her kohl eye-liner, re-applied her deep red lipstick, and pinched her cheeks for a rush of red. Then she fixed any dark stray hairs by tucking them back against her head into the already made bun.
Then she walked into the hauntingly beautiful building, and saw the man with dark slicked back hair standing at the very end of the aisle, staring at her with a slim, silent smile.
By the time she took a step forward she understood.
She was never late.
"You're late." His calm voice echoed through the empty house.
She stepped into the kitchen, gently folding her hands in front of her. She felt the soft fabric of her dress and inhaled the smell of the forest.
"At least I showered." She replied playfully.
The man walked into the light. His jet black hair was greased back, and even though he was wearing a suit, she could see the dirt stains on his hands. They watched each other for a moment before he rose his hand slowly, and closed the space between them.
In a fluid motion he brushed a stray curl away from her face, "You look lovely, Vi."
Her smile only widened, "Are you ready, Jackson?"
He didn't reply quickly, instead he stepped back and took her in.
Vi's smile began to falter, but before she could begin to doubt herself he grabbed her hands.
"I've been ready for a long time."
In the quiet house, they held still.
Jackson led her to the door, and they walked down to their small town car. He waited for her to get comfortable in her seat before he shut the door and moved to the driver's seat.
The drive was quite. Comfortable. Vi watched the trees soar past them as they made their way to the building. She tried to count how many trees they passed, but lost count almost right away.
They didn't turn on the radio, but instead listened to one another's heart beat.
It felt like a moment, but it took them half an hour to get there.
He pulled up and they sat there. Comfortable.
He then turned to her and leaned to kiss her cheek. He paused to inhale her perfume. It was a mix of lilacs and fresh, light air.
As he pulled away he muttered, "I'll see you soon, darling."
Jackson exited the car, only to stop to pull her door open to let her out. But she waited in the car for several moments until the man was inside the white marble building.
Vi squeezed her fingers, and let her right forefinger linger on the small, thin band that wrapped around her left ring-finger.
She smoothed out her dress and stood out, into the wind.
Vi pulled her little purse out in front of her, and pulled out a small, compact mirror. She rose it to her face and began fixing minor make-up mistakes. She smoothed out her kohl eye-liner, re-applied her deep red lipstick, and pinched her cheeks for a rush of red. Then she fixed any dark stray hairs by tucking them back against her head into the already made bun.
Then she walked into the hauntingly beautiful building, and saw the man with dark slicked back hair standing at the very end of the aisle, staring at her with a slim, silent smile.
By the time she took a step forward she understood.
She was never late.
Wednesday 13 May 2015
My Star
A year ago, I found you at the store
watching your little world explode out of the water.
Because I chose you, to start a life for
and now, I can only apologize.
For, I wish I had made your life a little better
rather than sticking you in a tank.
Oh, my little Luce.
People laughed at me for naming you such a thing.
"Lucifer, the angel fish."
For-- it was irony, you see.
Because Lucifer means 'Star'.
As in the stars in the sky
that reflect off the ocean, lakes and rivers.
Star is a beautiful twinkle that floods the milky way
and brings a sense of awe through even the most intelligent people.
You were a star that stood out to me
through your little glass captor.
You made it so far, Luce.
Such a beautiful name
for such a beautiful fish.
It was an honor to sing to you,
and thank you for listening to me play my instruments.
Thank you for letting me talk to you
and thank you for being there for me and your tank
in times of need.
I wish I could do more.
I'm sorry I couldn't do more.
watching your little world explode out of the water.
Because I chose you, to start a life for
and now, I can only apologize.
For, I wish I had made your life a little better
rather than sticking you in a tank.
Oh, my little Luce.
People laughed at me for naming you such a thing.
"Lucifer, the angel fish."
For-- it was irony, you see.
Because Lucifer means 'Star'.
As in the stars in the sky
that reflect off the ocean, lakes and rivers.
Star is a beautiful twinkle that floods the milky way
and brings a sense of awe through even the most intelligent people.
You were a star that stood out to me
through your little glass captor.
You made it so far, Luce.
Such a beautiful name
for such a beautiful fish.
It was an honor to sing to you,
and thank you for listening to me play my instruments.
Thank you for letting me talk to you
and thank you for being there for me and your tank
in times of need.
I wish I could do more.
I'm sorry I couldn't do more.
Tuesday 12 May 2015
It Doesn't Always Start With a Bang
Flashing skies
Illuminated nights
But silence forever before.
Lilting laughs
Stained from grass
Crumbling to the floor.
Simple moments
Silents poets
Invisible memories to hold dear.
Exploding firecrackers
Shadowed afterwards
Crowd filled with content, not fear.
Dancing freely
Tongues like melee
Mountains being moved from emotion.
Walking on water
Chest feeling hotter
Able to control the ocean.
Dark nights
Faded lights
Glowing bright heart.
There was slow breeze
Gentle leaves
and the hurricane did start.
Illuminated nights
But silence forever before.
Lilting laughs
Stained from grass
Crumbling to the floor.
Simple moments
Silents poets
Invisible memories to hold dear.
Exploding firecrackers
Shadowed afterwards
Crowd filled with content, not fear.
Dancing freely
Tongues like melee
Mountains being moved from emotion.
Walking on water
Chest feeling hotter
Able to control the ocean.
Dark nights
Faded lights
Glowing bright heart.
There was slow breeze
Gentle leaves
and the hurricane did start.
Friday 1 May 2015
To a Person With Flames Under Their Feet and the Sky in Their Heart
You deserve a thousand flowers
for the thousands of cracks in your heart.
You deserve millions of stars to bend at your whim
to help your inner mind restart.
You deserve a billion fish for your eyes to watch
and your infinite love to admire.
You deserve an infinite amount of expression
to redirect the sickly flames from the fire.
But how can a person be gifted the sky,
Sun,
Earth,
Galaxy?
When it is not meant to be packaged and given away?
But when you look up at the night sky
realize that
'the world is your oyster'
and you've made it thus far.
It's scary, but necessary
and that doesn't make this right.
But you've been doing so well.
You've been struggling to fight.
You deserve a vast amount of things
but you did not deserve this.
And I know your heart may be shaken
and your mind may be numb,
but look at how you've been awaken.
And when you look back, you'll see you've won.
for the thousands of cracks in your heart.
You deserve millions of stars to bend at your whim
to help your inner mind restart.
You deserve a billion fish for your eyes to watch
and your infinite love to admire.
You deserve an infinite amount of expression
to redirect the sickly flames from the fire.
But how can a person be gifted the sky,
Sun,
Earth,
Galaxy?
When it is not meant to be packaged and given away?
But when you look up at the night sky
realize that
'the world is your oyster'
and you've made it thus far.
It's scary, but necessary
and that doesn't make this right.
But you've been doing so well.
You've been struggling to fight.
You deserve a vast amount of things
but you did not deserve this.
And I know your heart may be shaken
and your mind may be numb,
but look at how you've been awaken.
And when you look back, you'll see you've won.
Thursday 23 April 2015
Dreams Are a Strange Thing.
She stood in front of the mirror, but the girl who she saw was not her--- even though it was.
For her hair, it was much shorter.
Her nose, it was much smaller.
Her eyes, they were much larger.
Her lips, they were much fuller.
Her skin, it was much paler.
But it was her.
For, you see, as she lifted her arms-- so did the other girl's.
When she moved her mouth-- so did the other girl's.
But when the girl in the mirror spoke, the girl who was standing before it did not.
They girl with short hair said robotic-ally, as she poked her cheek "I am so much paler than you."
"But aren't we the same person?" Asked the original girl.
A large smile was planted on the short haired girl's lips. "Oh no. You'll never be me."
For her hair, it was much shorter.
Her nose, it was much smaller.
Her eyes, they were much larger.
Her lips, they were much fuller.
Her skin, it was much paler.
But it was her.
For, you see, as she lifted her arms-- so did the other girl's.
When she moved her mouth-- so did the other girl's.
But when the girl in the mirror spoke, the girl who was standing before it did not.
They girl with short hair said robotic-ally, as she poked her cheek "I am so much paler than you."
"But aren't we the same person?" Asked the original girl.
A large smile was planted on the short haired girl's lips. "Oh no. You'll never be me."
Tuesday 21 April 2015
Unearthly World that is
I want to dip my hands in a river of stars
and pull them up through my fingers.
Watch as the black liquid drips with tiny suns
while the millions of supernovas linger.
I want to soar in a sky of sea creatures
and dance and twirl with the orca whales.
Breathe in the ocean whilst gripping my reality
but my mind being pulled like wind sails. .
I want to climb down into the depths of a cavern of light
and be consumed by the glittering crystals.
To feel my chest float with awe; ecstasy bound
as my heart becomes torn from a pistol.
I want to sing in the mountains while losing my breath
to feel the chilled air envelope my lungs.
And as I shut my eyes, I would feel the gentle kiss
from the snowflakes that perish so young.
I want to see through the rain to feel its pain
only to have it become my own.
I want to lift up the world, give it a twirl
to shake away the sadness, creating a home.
But more than that, I want to see the Earth smile
beaming like its Savior the sun.
To sense the ease it would bring, opening the sky
making this land feel like one.
But I can't do that.
And I know that.
It is most outrageous to think.
But it's not bad to hope.
And it's not bad to wish.
For this idea,
concept,
foundation;
it's a small step.
So small.
But so real.
and pull them up through my fingers.
Watch as the black liquid drips with tiny suns
while the millions of supernovas linger.
I want to soar in a sky of sea creatures
and dance and twirl with the orca whales.
Breathe in the ocean whilst gripping my reality
but my mind being pulled like wind sails. .
I want to climb down into the depths of a cavern of light
and be consumed by the glittering crystals.
To feel my chest float with awe; ecstasy bound
as my heart becomes torn from a pistol.
I want to sing in the mountains while losing my breath
to feel the chilled air envelope my lungs.
And as I shut my eyes, I would feel the gentle kiss
from the snowflakes that perish so young.
I want to see through the rain to feel its pain
only to have it become my own.
I want to lift up the world, give it a twirl
to shake away the sadness, creating a home.
But more than that, I want to see the Earth smile
beaming like its Savior the sun.
To sense the ease it would bring, opening the sky
making this land feel like one.
But I can't do that.
And I know that.
It is most outrageous to think.
But it's not bad to hope.
And it's not bad to wish.
For this idea,
concept,
foundation;
it's a small step.
So small.
But so real.
Saturday 11 April 2015
A Police Statement
"I counted to four while standing on the edge. My swimsuit wasn't like everyone else's in how every one else's was already wet from their jumps. But my trousers were still dry and I knew they were laughing at me.
I counted to five while clenching my teeth. It was a high jump, but there was water below. I knew this. I drove past this every day.
I counted to six when I heard them yelling to me from several feet back.
"Come on, Christian!" I think that was Kyle.
"Deep breath and go, Chris!" Definitely Sean.
"Don't be such a pussy!" I didn't recognize that voice, so I'm guessing it was one of the random guys that tagged along with us.
I counted to seven, wondering how I got here.
We were talking at lunch about how crazy it would be to jump off one of the cliff's near Lindell Beach when someone said it would send an incredible adrenaline rush. Then someone else piped up how you don't grow hair on your chest until you've pushed your boundaries to the extreme.
That's when Sera scolded us for talking about something so dangerous. About how we were making it seem heroic where so many people died from cliff diving; especially considering the recent deaths from a few people who jumped off the cliff's near Lindell.
I counted to eight as I began to notice how shaky I had gotten.
One of the boys-- I think it was Kyle, he said it could be a gateway to manhood or some shit- crap, sorry. But we all got pumped up about it and psyched ourselves up. About two hours later we were cramming into Kyle's van with a few guys from our class as we drove to Lindell Beach.
I counted to nine as I looked over the edge. The waves crashed against the cliff, and I couldn't see past the thick black water. I heard a bit of commotion behind me, but before I could turn I felt someone spin me around.
"Hey!" I exclaimed while trying to not tumble off the cliff. I noticed the green eyes I was looking at belonged to Sera.
"Are you seriously so stupid as to do this?" Her lips quivered a bit, and she kept fumbling to keep her brown hair from being blown into her face.
"How did you get here? You don't drive."
She laughed a bit, "Neither can you, but you managed to catch a ride too."
I looked over her shoulder and noticed how restless the guys were getting. Kyle scowled as he pointed to the cliff.
When I didn't respond she pointed behind her, "Danielle drove me up."
Just as she said Danielle, I noticed her short tan frame leaning against a vibrant, red convertible. I'm surprised I didn't hear her smacking her gum before. Then I noticed something. They were both in their swimsuits. Danielle was in a two-piece yellow one with large round sunglasses-- red of course to match her lipstick.
But when I looked back to Sera, she was wearing a simple black one-piece.
"We realize it's stupid. But, I dunno, we thought since we know CPR and stuff we could just make sure if one of you got hurt we could help." She shrugged, "Besides we're here now, and it's a bit of a drive to go back. And Danielle wanted to be around boys." She smiled at her last comment and we caught ourselves laughing at it.
I ran my hand through my hair as I turned back towards the cliff, "Well, I'm about to jump, so if I need help I won't shout up. But if you hear me shouting, don't jump after me, okay?" I grinned as she nodded.
"Just jump as far away from the cliff as you can, alright?"
I answered by putting some distance between me and the edge. I looked at her before sprinting to the edge.
I lost track of which number I had counted to, so I just let myself leap off.
And then I felt the rush as I fell through the air. My breath became the air and my face was absorbing the sunlight. My limbs were light and my hair was as soft as feathers. I had to remember to position my body properly to land so I didn't hurt myself.
And in an instant, water consumed me. I felt exhilarated as I let myself stay floating under the water. I felt like I was in another world. I felt incredible and soft and peaceful.
I slowly swan up to the surface, inhaling deeply as my lungs felt oxygen. I heard someone yelling, but I was in such a haze that I couldn't make out what they were saying. I looked up at the sky and noticed how the pale yellow light kissed the water so beautifully that it created a liquid gold. A few seagulls squealed above me and I watched in awe as their wings spread wide to take the air current against the cliff. They seemed to fly so easily. I wondered what it would be like to fly like that.
But then I realized I was just exposed to that feeling. It felt like I was flying. I want to keep flying.
Suddenly a giant splash exploded beside me, sending me into shock as to what happened.
A head full of long brown hair popped up gasping and yelling, "Christian!"
I felt my stomach drop when I recognized her.
I choked a bit on water, "Sera?"
Her eyes widened and I saw anger flow through her as she splashed me, "Christian! For God's sake, I thought you were hurt! You didn't shout up, and you said you would if you weren't hurt, and so you were making it seem like you were hurt, and I was so scared because I didn't know what to do when I would get down here because right now I can't see a way to get back up--" I started laughing. Really, really hard. "Why are you laughing? Christian. Christian!" She splashed me again.
I spoke between breaths and water, "I was in awe with everything. The jump was incredible, I was just in another world. I barely heard you yelling, and it was like every image and feeling was amplified. I'm so sorry Sera." I was laughing again. But she sank a bit in the water and moved away from me. I grew a bit solemn, "Sera?"
She went to splash me again but I grabbed her wrists, which is really awkward when you're treading water. I had to push her hands down and continue treading water. She looked at me through her eyelashes and muttered something.
"What?" I swam a bit closer.
"I said you're a jerk for making me think you were hurt!" She splashed me before I could stop her.
"Okay, you really need to stop doing that." I wiped my face. Sera glared at me and smacked her hand into the water to me, and she kept spraying the water for a good minute. Finally, she stopped, huffing a bit.
"Are you done?" I asked.
"Yes." She mumbled, looking unhappy.
"C'mon, let's head up. With how long we're taking, they might be a bit freaked too." Her face lit up a bit with hearing that we're leaving.
We swam over to the cliff and I told her if we held on and moved to the right, there'd be a pathway that some people made so it's easy to get back up.
When we got to the top again, the guys were sitting casually while Danielle was sun bathing. You could see her talking to Sean, who seemed so into the conversation that he didn't even check out her body. I gave him props. When Danielle spotted Sera, she leaped up and shimmied over to her, all the guys swooned pretty hard that I could hardly refrain my laughter.
She dramatically swept Sera up in large hug, "We were all so worried, Ser." She air kissed both her cheeks and went back down to Sean.
Kyle nodded to me, "Not so bad, eh?" He smiled, "And you got Sera to jump, so you killed two birds with one stone!" My smile felt a bit forced, but I asked anyways.
"What do you mean?"
"Everyone who's here has to jump." I felt cold suddenly.
"If they don't want to jump they don't have to." I replied. But the problem wasn't who jumped, but who hadn't. And the only person who hadn't was Danielle.
She waved her hand dismissing the idea, "Oh please, I'm not jumping. I'm tanning. See?" The patted her towel.
Kyle smirked, "Oh, if you don't want to jump that's fine, babe." I saw her clench her teeth.
"Don't call me babe." She stood up, beginning to roll up her towel, "Well, Ser, since you've had your fun and saved Mr. Dreamy, let's haul ass and get out of here." But as she kissed Sean's cheek and stood up-- leaving a bright read kiss mark, may I add-- Kyle stepped in front of her.
"Go? But you haven't made your mark yet, babe." He smiled with his bright white teeth.
I stepped up now, realizing how serious this was getting. I chuckled a bit to break the tension, "Okay, guys, if she doesn't wanna jump, she doesn't have to." I turned to Danielle, "We'll see you at school, have a nice weekend," I stepped to Sera and leaned to her ear, "And I hope to see you this weekend, maybe?" She grinned and gave me her phone to put my number in. As I was finishing it and Danielle was walking to her car, Kyle ran forward to her and picked her up.
I rushed the number, gave Sera my phone back and stopped Kyle. I noticed Sean was standing up now too.
"Kyle, put her the fuck down. What are you thinking? This isn't the time, or area to be fooling around." Sean sounded pretty scary when he was serious,
Kyle snorted, "What, you want your little girl toy back? Come get her." And with that, he sprinted to the cliff edge. Everyone was shouting now, and I felt Sera grip my arm.
Sean, with his height, easily ran to the edge and pulled Danielle out of his arms. He placed her on the ground and shoved Kyle in the chest, "What the fuck is your problem?"
Danielle slowly crawled away, shaking vehemently. I rushed to her side and helped her to sit next to Sera. Danielle had taken off her sunglasses, and you could see the fear in her blue eyes. Sera ran to the car and grabbed the towel, wrapping Danielle in it.
I heard a bloodcurdling scream from Danielle as she pointed to the cliff with her sunglasses.
I spun on my heels and saw that Kyle was standing over the edge, his back heaving from his lungs. But I didn't see Sean.
I whispered while stepping towards him, "Kyle?" His back was still rising quickly, "Kyle, where's Sean?" All the guys were in shock. But Kyle didn't turn around. I felt a gust of wind fly by me, and I saw Sera's brown hair flowing like the waves below as she jumped off the edge.
"Sera!" I was jumping before I knew what was happening, and I smashed into the water faster than a second. I broke through the water, gasping for air, and saw Sera swimming through the waves, diving, coming back up, scanning for where he could be. I dove under the water, trying to see him, but the water was so dark I couldn't see anything.
I came to the surface, and panic struck me as I couldn't see Sera anymore either. I looked up at the cliff and saw Kyle staring down intensely. I squinted my eyes because something felt off. But I went over to the path, to find Sera sitting, clutching her hands.
"Sera, it's okay, we'll find him." She shook her head.
"I can't see him if he's hurt. I know CPR, Chris, not how to save someone's life. I can go call the ambulance."
I reached for her hands and squatted in front of her, "When you go call the ambulance, please come straight down. Take the path if you need to, but when I find him I need your help to keep him conscious." I tried to smile, and she stood up nodding.
"Okay. I'll come straight down." With that, she sprinted up the path.
I hurried back to the water and saw that Kyle was still staring down. I spent about five minutes scouring the water, and diving as deep as I could go.
Then something came to my mind. When Sera came back down-- by the path-- I asked her about what the water looked like when she jumped in after me, the first time.
"The water was really choppy. But not like how they were crashing against the cliff. It was like a bulls eye." She tilted her head, "Why?" But then her eyes widened. "The water. It wasn't disturbed from Sean when I went down." She covered her mouth as tears formed in her eyes, "He never made it to the water, Chris. He never made it." She was hysterical now, sobbing into her arms. I comforted her for a moment before I had to pull away.
"I have to find him, Ser. Stay here. Breathe through your nose out through your mouth." She nodded.
When I went into the water I looked up at the cliff. There were a few spots where Sean could have fallen, but something told me it would be easy to see where he was. Because Kyle was staring at him.
It was all a blur after that.
I'm sorry. I don't remember anything other than climbing up the cliff, and having to push his body into the water. Then I had to pull it by the pathway. I had to help Sera try to help Sean. And she cried a lot. I began crying too. I had been best friends with Sean for twelve years. We used to play video games on NES when we were younger. Especially Donkey Kong. We loved DK.
I held Sera because she couldn't stop crying. So eventually we stopped trying to help Sean because he wasn't responding. He wasn't breathing. So we held each other as we waited for the ambulance.
I'm sorry officer, I can't remember anything else."
I counted to five while clenching my teeth. It was a high jump, but there was water below. I knew this. I drove past this every day.
I counted to six when I heard them yelling to me from several feet back.
"Come on, Christian!" I think that was Kyle.
"Deep breath and go, Chris!" Definitely Sean.
"Don't be such a pussy!" I didn't recognize that voice, so I'm guessing it was one of the random guys that tagged along with us.
I counted to seven, wondering how I got here.
We were talking at lunch about how crazy it would be to jump off one of the cliff's near Lindell Beach when someone said it would send an incredible adrenaline rush. Then someone else piped up how you don't grow hair on your chest until you've pushed your boundaries to the extreme.
That's when Sera scolded us for talking about something so dangerous. About how we were making it seem heroic where so many people died from cliff diving; especially considering the recent deaths from a few people who jumped off the cliff's near Lindell.
I counted to eight as I began to notice how shaky I had gotten.
One of the boys-- I think it was Kyle, he said it could be a gateway to manhood or some shit- crap, sorry. But we all got pumped up about it and psyched ourselves up. About two hours later we were cramming into Kyle's van with a few guys from our class as we drove to Lindell Beach.
I counted to nine as I looked over the edge. The waves crashed against the cliff, and I couldn't see past the thick black water. I heard a bit of commotion behind me, but before I could turn I felt someone spin me around.
"Hey!" I exclaimed while trying to not tumble off the cliff. I noticed the green eyes I was looking at belonged to Sera.
"Are you seriously so stupid as to do this?" Her lips quivered a bit, and she kept fumbling to keep her brown hair from being blown into her face.
"How did you get here? You don't drive."
She laughed a bit, "Neither can you, but you managed to catch a ride too."
I looked over her shoulder and noticed how restless the guys were getting. Kyle scowled as he pointed to the cliff.
When I didn't respond she pointed behind her, "Danielle drove me up."
Just as she said Danielle, I noticed her short tan frame leaning against a vibrant, red convertible. I'm surprised I didn't hear her smacking her gum before. Then I noticed something. They were both in their swimsuits. Danielle was in a two-piece yellow one with large round sunglasses-- red of course to match her lipstick.
But when I looked back to Sera, she was wearing a simple black one-piece.
"We realize it's stupid. But, I dunno, we thought since we know CPR and stuff we could just make sure if one of you got hurt we could help." She shrugged, "Besides we're here now, and it's a bit of a drive to go back. And Danielle wanted to be around boys." She smiled at her last comment and we caught ourselves laughing at it.
I ran my hand through my hair as I turned back towards the cliff, "Well, I'm about to jump, so if I need help I won't shout up. But if you hear me shouting, don't jump after me, okay?" I grinned as she nodded.
"Just jump as far away from the cliff as you can, alright?"
I answered by putting some distance between me and the edge. I looked at her before sprinting to the edge.
I lost track of which number I had counted to, so I just let myself leap off.
And then I felt the rush as I fell through the air. My breath became the air and my face was absorbing the sunlight. My limbs were light and my hair was as soft as feathers. I had to remember to position my body properly to land so I didn't hurt myself.
And in an instant, water consumed me. I felt exhilarated as I let myself stay floating under the water. I felt like I was in another world. I felt incredible and soft and peaceful.
I slowly swan up to the surface, inhaling deeply as my lungs felt oxygen. I heard someone yelling, but I was in such a haze that I couldn't make out what they were saying. I looked up at the sky and noticed how the pale yellow light kissed the water so beautifully that it created a liquid gold. A few seagulls squealed above me and I watched in awe as their wings spread wide to take the air current against the cliff. They seemed to fly so easily. I wondered what it would be like to fly like that.
But then I realized I was just exposed to that feeling. It felt like I was flying. I want to keep flying.
Suddenly a giant splash exploded beside me, sending me into shock as to what happened.
A head full of long brown hair popped up gasping and yelling, "Christian!"
I felt my stomach drop when I recognized her.
I choked a bit on water, "Sera?"
Her eyes widened and I saw anger flow through her as she splashed me, "Christian! For God's sake, I thought you were hurt! You didn't shout up, and you said you would if you weren't hurt, and so you were making it seem like you were hurt, and I was so scared because I didn't know what to do when I would get down here because right now I can't see a way to get back up--" I started laughing. Really, really hard. "Why are you laughing? Christian. Christian!" She splashed me again.
I spoke between breaths and water, "I was in awe with everything. The jump was incredible, I was just in another world. I barely heard you yelling, and it was like every image and feeling was amplified. I'm so sorry Sera." I was laughing again. But she sank a bit in the water and moved away from me. I grew a bit solemn, "Sera?"
She went to splash me again but I grabbed her wrists, which is really awkward when you're treading water. I had to push her hands down and continue treading water. She looked at me through her eyelashes and muttered something.
"What?" I swam a bit closer.
"I said you're a jerk for making me think you were hurt!" She splashed me before I could stop her.
"Okay, you really need to stop doing that." I wiped my face. Sera glared at me and smacked her hand into the water to me, and she kept spraying the water for a good minute. Finally, she stopped, huffing a bit.
"Are you done?" I asked.
"Yes." She mumbled, looking unhappy.
"C'mon, let's head up. With how long we're taking, they might be a bit freaked too." Her face lit up a bit with hearing that we're leaving.
We swam over to the cliff and I told her if we held on and moved to the right, there'd be a pathway that some people made so it's easy to get back up.
When we got to the top again, the guys were sitting casually while Danielle was sun bathing. You could see her talking to Sean, who seemed so into the conversation that he didn't even check out her body. I gave him props. When Danielle spotted Sera, she leaped up and shimmied over to her, all the guys swooned pretty hard that I could hardly refrain my laughter.
She dramatically swept Sera up in large hug, "We were all so worried, Ser." She air kissed both her cheeks and went back down to Sean.
Kyle nodded to me, "Not so bad, eh?" He smiled, "And you got Sera to jump, so you killed two birds with one stone!" My smile felt a bit forced, but I asked anyways.
"What do you mean?"
"Everyone who's here has to jump." I felt cold suddenly.
"If they don't want to jump they don't have to." I replied. But the problem wasn't who jumped, but who hadn't. And the only person who hadn't was Danielle.
She waved her hand dismissing the idea, "Oh please, I'm not jumping. I'm tanning. See?" The patted her towel.
Kyle smirked, "Oh, if you don't want to jump that's fine, babe." I saw her clench her teeth.
"Don't call me babe." She stood up, beginning to roll up her towel, "Well, Ser, since you've had your fun and saved Mr. Dreamy, let's haul ass and get out of here." But as she kissed Sean's cheek and stood up-- leaving a bright read kiss mark, may I add-- Kyle stepped in front of her.
"Go? But you haven't made your mark yet, babe." He smiled with his bright white teeth.
I stepped up now, realizing how serious this was getting. I chuckled a bit to break the tension, "Okay, guys, if she doesn't wanna jump, she doesn't have to." I turned to Danielle, "We'll see you at school, have a nice weekend," I stepped to Sera and leaned to her ear, "And I hope to see you this weekend, maybe?" She grinned and gave me her phone to put my number in. As I was finishing it and Danielle was walking to her car, Kyle ran forward to her and picked her up.
I rushed the number, gave Sera my phone back and stopped Kyle. I noticed Sean was standing up now too.
"Kyle, put her the fuck down. What are you thinking? This isn't the time, or area to be fooling around." Sean sounded pretty scary when he was serious,
Kyle snorted, "What, you want your little girl toy back? Come get her." And with that, he sprinted to the cliff edge. Everyone was shouting now, and I felt Sera grip my arm.
Sean, with his height, easily ran to the edge and pulled Danielle out of his arms. He placed her on the ground and shoved Kyle in the chest, "What the fuck is your problem?"
Danielle slowly crawled away, shaking vehemently. I rushed to her side and helped her to sit next to Sera. Danielle had taken off her sunglasses, and you could see the fear in her blue eyes. Sera ran to the car and grabbed the towel, wrapping Danielle in it.
I heard a bloodcurdling scream from Danielle as she pointed to the cliff with her sunglasses.
I spun on my heels and saw that Kyle was standing over the edge, his back heaving from his lungs. But I didn't see Sean.
I whispered while stepping towards him, "Kyle?" His back was still rising quickly, "Kyle, where's Sean?" All the guys were in shock. But Kyle didn't turn around. I felt a gust of wind fly by me, and I saw Sera's brown hair flowing like the waves below as she jumped off the edge.
"Sera!" I was jumping before I knew what was happening, and I smashed into the water faster than a second. I broke through the water, gasping for air, and saw Sera swimming through the waves, diving, coming back up, scanning for where he could be. I dove under the water, trying to see him, but the water was so dark I couldn't see anything.
I came to the surface, and panic struck me as I couldn't see Sera anymore either. I looked up at the cliff and saw Kyle staring down intensely. I squinted my eyes because something felt off. But I went over to the path, to find Sera sitting, clutching her hands.
"Sera, it's okay, we'll find him." She shook her head.
"I can't see him if he's hurt. I know CPR, Chris, not how to save someone's life. I can go call the ambulance."
I reached for her hands and squatted in front of her, "When you go call the ambulance, please come straight down. Take the path if you need to, but when I find him I need your help to keep him conscious." I tried to smile, and she stood up nodding.
"Okay. I'll come straight down." With that, she sprinted up the path.
I hurried back to the water and saw that Kyle was still staring down. I spent about five minutes scouring the water, and diving as deep as I could go.
Then something came to my mind. When Sera came back down-- by the path-- I asked her about what the water looked like when she jumped in after me, the first time.
"The water was really choppy. But not like how they were crashing against the cliff. It was like a bulls eye." She tilted her head, "Why?" But then her eyes widened. "The water. It wasn't disturbed from Sean when I went down." She covered her mouth as tears formed in her eyes, "He never made it to the water, Chris. He never made it." She was hysterical now, sobbing into her arms. I comforted her for a moment before I had to pull away.
"I have to find him, Ser. Stay here. Breathe through your nose out through your mouth." She nodded.
When I went into the water I looked up at the cliff. There were a few spots where Sean could have fallen, but something told me it would be easy to see where he was. Because Kyle was staring at him.
It was all a blur after that.
I'm sorry. I don't remember anything other than climbing up the cliff, and having to push his body into the water. Then I had to pull it by the pathway. I had to help Sera try to help Sean. And she cried a lot. I began crying too. I had been best friends with Sean for twelve years. We used to play video games on NES when we were younger. Especially Donkey Kong. We loved DK.
I held Sera because she couldn't stop crying. So eventually we stopped trying to help Sean because he wasn't responding. He wasn't breathing. So we held each other as we waited for the ambulance.
I'm sorry officer, I can't remember anything else."
Wednesday 25 March 2015
A Nightmare
This may trigger some people, so if you are easily triggered, please don't hurt yourself and read this. I don't want you to hurt yourself.
My legs were numb when I woke up. It happens a lot. When ever my hands or legs fall asleep... my dreams become nightmares. I think it's because my mind is trying to make sense of why my body is suddenly not being able to feel.
My legs were numb when I woke up. It happens a lot. When ever my hands or legs fall asleep... my dreams become nightmares. I think it's because my mind is trying to make sense of why my body is suddenly not being able to feel.
This is the nightmare I had when my legs became numb.
The house was tall and dark. Six stories. Each floor was just a small shadowed room. And my mind kept flashing to cut up legs. The legs had thousands of shallow razor cuts, and each person on each floor had cut up legs.
The cuts were from a shaving razor.
The girl that I was speaking to looked like the actress who played Matilda. Dark brown hair, bow head band. She was not on the first, second or third floor.
But before I began stepping up the spiral wooden stairs, she spoke about being cut on her legs. How the people in the house all had cuts on their legs, but a few were the ones doing it--- even to themselves. She seemed terrified, but in a serious way.
After she talked to me she disappeared. And that's when I began on the first floor.
The young adult I met was blond and had a slim build. He had dark brown eyes and I when I found him shaking in the corner of his black, shadowed room with only a queen bed in the middle, I found he only had underwear on. It isn't that kind of dream though, so if that's what you are hoping to read, just leave.
He was curled up, leaning his head against the dark wall when I spoke to him. I couldn't hear myself speaking, but I knew I was asking him questions like 'What's happening?' and 'Who did this to you?' as I was referring to his red, bleeding legs. But he looked past me, and was whimpering and crying. He didn't speak, but he looked up. He looked up.
The young woman I met on the second floor was brief.
In fact, I don't remember it at all.
All I know is that it was the same looking room, only one higher, and that she was sitting in her underwear (white, underwear) and she was silent. I didn't speak to her. But I remember her raven black navy hair. She had black irises.
The third floor is the final floor I got to, but I knew there were a few more above me. The woman in this floor-- same bedroom like the others-- she was laughing the crazed maniacal way that insane people laugh. She was cutting her legs with a shaving razor. Cutting horizontally. She would whisper something, cut, laugh, cut, whisper, laugh, cut, cut, cut.
I said hello. But she was unaware of me. And as I was speaking, I realized she was answering me without me realizing it. I would ask her what's going on, and she would cut and say something in a verse of poetry. When I asked her why she was cutting herself she responded like this:
Living in fear, unaware of here
cut, cut, cut.
I can see, but cannot be
cut, cut, cut.
Wouldn't you rather have control
of the fist that hit you
an hour ago
than not be able to sleep
with a content mind?
If you were the one the dragged the blade
and slept in a bed that's softly made
than not be able to sleep
due to a restless mind?
My hand
My movements
My power
Not theirs.
They can't touch me
with my own cuts
because the room is gone
they've lost their luck.
And that's when I woke up in a panic. I was so terrified I had to turn on the light and was unable to sleep. Because as she spoke, my vision was flooded with images and I knew that the little girl who I first met was in the very top room, and that she was the one that scared every one and cut everyone elses' legs. And Getting that rush of information made me terrified.
But as I say,
I would rather have nightmares than not be able to remember my dreams.
After she talked to me she disappeared. And that's when I began on the first floor.
The young adult I met was blond and had a slim build. He had dark brown eyes and I when I found him shaking in the corner of his black, shadowed room with only a queen bed in the middle, I found he only had underwear on. It isn't that kind of dream though, so if that's what you are hoping to read, just leave.
He was curled up, leaning his head against the dark wall when I spoke to him. I couldn't hear myself speaking, but I knew I was asking him questions like 'What's happening?' and 'Who did this to you?' as I was referring to his red, bleeding legs. But he looked past me, and was whimpering and crying. He didn't speak, but he looked up. He looked up.
The young woman I met on the second floor was brief.
In fact, I don't remember it at all.
All I know is that it was the same looking room, only one higher, and that she was sitting in her underwear (white, underwear) and she was silent. I didn't speak to her. But I remember her raven black navy hair. She had black irises.
The third floor is the final floor I got to, but I knew there were a few more above me. The woman in this floor-- same bedroom like the others-- she was laughing the crazed maniacal way that insane people laugh. She was cutting her legs with a shaving razor. Cutting horizontally. She would whisper something, cut, laugh, cut, whisper, laugh, cut, cut, cut.
I said hello. But she was unaware of me. And as I was speaking, I realized she was answering me without me realizing it. I would ask her what's going on, and she would cut and say something in a verse of poetry. When I asked her why she was cutting herself she responded like this:
Living in fear, unaware of here
cut, cut, cut.
I can see, but cannot be
cut, cut, cut.
Wouldn't you rather have control
of the fist that hit you
an hour ago
than not be able to sleep
with a content mind?
If you were the one the dragged the blade
and slept in a bed that's softly made
than not be able to sleep
due to a restless mind?
My hand
My movements
My power
Not theirs.
They can't touch me
with my own cuts
because the room is gone
they've lost their luck.
And that's when I woke up in a panic. I was so terrified I had to turn on the light and was unable to sleep. Because as she spoke, my vision was flooded with images and I knew that the little girl who I first met was in the very top room, and that she was the one that scared every one and cut everyone elses' legs. And Getting that rush of information made me terrified.
But as I say,
I would rather have nightmares than not be able to remember my dreams.
Friday 13 March 2015
A Cigarette
I brought the cigarette between my lips, pausing for a second- a second so quick no one could notice I breathed outward, before inhaling deeply. I clenched my teeth, refusing to cough. I will not cough. He wouldn't cough. He smoked like it was as easy as breathing. He would place the cigarette against his mouth any second now, inhale, hold, exhale, laugh, inhale, hold, exhale, say something about how my sunglasses have finger prints on them, inhale, hold, exhale, offer me one. I'd say no. I always said no.
I brought the thin white paper to my face, and just held it.
A few girls walked by me, and I felt their steady gaze on the hand by my face. On the cigarette. I inhaled deeply. Do not cough. Do not cough. Jane I swear to god, do not fucking cough.
They were out of site.
I hurled over, choking up my lungs.
"God!" I slammed my hands against the wall I was now leaning against. The rough red bricks scraped my hand, I cursed while pinching the still burning cigarette.
"Is this what you wanted?!" I shouted at the wall. I could see him. His head would be tilting ever so slightly. His mouth would be slightly upturned. The black leather jacket would be crinkled as he would place his hands in his jean pockets. He'd pull out his pack. He's pull out his lighter. He'd bring both to his mouth. And then he'd pause for a second. A second no one could see. But I saw it. I saw it every time. I saw his hesitation.
"Your hesitation should have lasted longer." I spat at the wall, "You should have thrown out your pack. Taken up some activity. For God's sake--!" A sob choked my throat, "Kept your nerves calm some other way." I flicked the built up ash off the tip of the cigarette and leaned against the wall, slowly sliding down into sitting position.
I stared at the cigarette.
"Is this what you wanted?" I flicked off more ash, "This was your plan wasn't it. You do this with a lot of people. You don't have to though. You could stop this. Stop hurting people." More ash.
I didn't expect it to respond.
"You do realize that's an inanimate object, right?" For a second-- only a second-- I freaked out because I thought it was talking to me. To be fair though, I hadn't slept in the past month. But I calmed down when I realized that one, the voice was right. It was an inanimate object. Two, the voice was female. And I know this may be gender biased, but I thought a cigarette would sound kind of like a raspy old man.
I looked up, only to see a pair of green eyes and a quite noticeable chest that was being enclosed by a tank top.
I blinked.
She was brave.
She sat down next to me.
"Cancer?" Her voice did sound kind of raspy.
I didn't look at her dark red hair pulled into a very high pony tail. Or her vibrant green, spider-like nails. Or her stiletto scarlet pumps. And I didn't even notice her very short jean skirt. I brought the cigarette to my mouth, paused, inhaled. Don't cough, Jane. I swear to- well, you already know who.
"You do know you aren't technically aloud to smoke in this area, right? If you want to smoke outside a hospital, there are designated areas." Her bright pink lips popped a perfect bubble with minty gum.
I inhaled.
"You might not want to talk, but I had to speak to ya." Pop.
Inhale.
"You can't smoke here." Pop.
Inhale.
"You may not believe this, but I'm a doctor here. You can't smoke here." Chew. Chew. Chew.
I looked at her. Her green eyes seemed so bright, and that's when I noticed the laugh lines by her eyes.
"Come on." She stood up with ease, and offered me her hand. "Come on, sweets." She tugged my free hand up.
We were walking around the hospital. My limbs felt heavy. I don't like smoking. It makes my body feel gross.
We stopped suddenly.
"Here. You can smoke here." She smiled. Her laugh lines were emphasized.
"Thanks." I mumbled. Inhale.
"She speaks," She said as she rose her eyebrows in awe, "What other words do ya know?" Pop.
"Fuck." Inhale.
She let out a harsh, surprised laugh, "That was unexpected. And crude."
"Aren't you worried about second-hand smoke damage to your lungs?" I asked apathetically. Inhale.
"Sweets, I'm a doctor and I've been smoking since I was ten. I know the risks. I know how addicting it is. I'm a walking oxymoron. A doctor who smokes." She laughed more heartily. I heard the raspy again.
And for a second, while her profile was laughing, I saw him laughing. He didn't have laugh lines though. But I guess he always seemed permanently young. He was supposed to stay young with me.
"So it took you a bit to speak, I'm guessing you're the same with laughing." Her pink lips grinned.
Inhale. Flick.
She exhaled slowly; calmly.
We didn't speak for a while. My cigarette was almost out.
He would be putting it under his shoe, grinding it out. He would be pulling out another one. Pack, lighter, mouth, pause, inhale.
His hands eventually began shaking.
His hair was starting to thin.
By the time we found out, it was too late.
"Why did you say Cancer?" I asked while trying to cover my cough.
She answered while looking ahead, "You'd be surprised, but working in a hospital you see a lot of Cancer patients." Her smile was dripping with sarcasm. But she still seemed happy. Then she turned to me, "I saw you practically vomit. You haven't been smoking long. I'd say you started the past twenty-four hours. And I realize I'm supposed to respect patients privacy, but I was Wesley's doctor."
My throat closed when she said his name.
"Wesley had been smoking for a very long time."
"Don't."
"But just because he died that was, doesn't mean you should." Pop.
Inhale.
"I'm surprised you don't recognize me." She said while chewing, chewing, chewing.
I rose an eyebrow. I think I'd remember her bright pink lips and vibrant green nails. Especially her doctoral dressing habits.
Inhale.
"Let me introduce myself to you again Ms. McKinley." She lobbed her wad of gum into the trash can, pulled a tissue from her pocket to wipe off her lipstick, released her hair from the pony tail and folding her hands carefully in front of her. Her posture suddenly changed, and her voice grew serious. In my sleep deprived state, her name rushed back to me.
"Doctor Hansen." We said in unison.
I groaned, "For--"
"God's sake. I know." She pulled a slender tube from her pocket, and she tugged the cap off revealing a thick bubble gum pink lipstick-- one that was well used. She laughed, "Hey, currently I'm on a break. Losing a patient is hard, and we had to sort out paper work."
I clenched my teeth.
"Oh I'm sorry, did I offend you?" She suddenly sounded angry.
"Yes-"
"Oh, sorry, I didn't realize you could taste my words with nicotine staining your tongue."
I blinked, too shocked to say anything.
"Ms. McKinley, you don't have to take up his dirty habit." She put a new stick of gum in her mouth.
I looked at the cigarette.
"There wasn't anything we could do for Wesley, Ms. McKinley. But you still have so much potential." I brought the last bit of cigarette to my lips and paused.
"He wouldn't want you to go down this path."
I laughed, "He was always offering me them. He wanted me to be like him." I frowned, "I finally am."
"Jane." Our eyes met, "Do you honestly believe he would have asked you if he knew you would have said yes?" We were silent for a moment. The ask was building up. "Well," she sighed, "My break is almost over. Think about what you want, Jane."
And she clicked away in her red pumps.
Click
Click
Click.
I stared at the burning cigarette.
And then I felt it slip out of my fingers.
And I watched the ashes crumble against the cement.
And I brought my sneaker over it.
And I crunched it.
Dr. Hansen stopped at the door and looked at me.
And she smiled.
I brought the thin white paper to my face, and just held it.
A few girls walked by me, and I felt their steady gaze on the hand by my face. On the cigarette. I inhaled deeply. Do not cough. Do not cough. Jane I swear to god, do not fucking cough.
They were out of site.
I hurled over, choking up my lungs.
"God!" I slammed my hands against the wall I was now leaning against. The rough red bricks scraped my hand, I cursed while pinching the still burning cigarette.
"Is this what you wanted?!" I shouted at the wall. I could see him. His head would be tilting ever so slightly. His mouth would be slightly upturned. The black leather jacket would be crinkled as he would place his hands in his jean pockets. He'd pull out his pack. He's pull out his lighter. He'd bring both to his mouth. And then he'd pause for a second. A second no one could see. But I saw it. I saw it every time. I saw his hesitation.
"Your hesitation should have lasted longer." I spat at the wall, "You should have thrown out your pack. Taken up some activity. For God's sake--!" A sob choked my throat, "Kept your nerves calm some other way." I flicked the built up ash off the tip of the cigarette and leaned against the wall, slowly sliding down into sitting position.
I stared at the cigarette.
"Is this what you wanted?" I flicked off more ash, "This was your plan wasn't it. You do this with a lot of people. You don't have to though. You could stop this. Stop hurting people." More ash.
I didn't expect it to respond.
"You do realize that's an inanimate object, right?" For a second-- only a second-- I freaked out because I thought it was talking to me. To be fair though, I hadn't slept in the past month. But I calmed down when I realized that one, the voice was right. It was an inanimate object. Two, the voice was female. And I know this may be gender biased, but I thought a cigarette would sound kind of like a raspy old man.
I looked up, only to see a pair of green eyes and a quite noticeable chest that was being enclosed by a tank top.
I blinked.
She was brave.
She sat down next to me.
"Cancer?" Her voice did sound kind of raspy.
I didn't look at her dark red hair pulled into a very high pony tail. Or her vibrant green, spider-like nails. Or her stiletto scarlet pumps. And I didn't even notice her very short jean skirt. I brought the cigarette to my mouth, paused, inhaled. Don't cough, Jane. I swear to- well, you already know who.
"You do know you aren't technically aloud to smoke in this area, right? If you want to smoke outside a hospital, there are designated areas." Her bright pink lips popped a perfect bubble with minty gum.
I inhaled.
"You might not want to talk, but I had to speak to ya." Pop.
Inhale.
"You can't smoke here." Pop.
Inhale.
"You may not believe this, but I'm a doctor here. You can't smoke here." Chew. Chew. Chew.
I looked at her. Her green eyes seemed so bright, and that's when I noticed the laugh lines by her eyes.
"Come on." She stood up with ease, and offered me her hand. "Come on, sweets." She tugged my free hand up.
We were walking around the hospital. My limbs felt heavy. I don't like smoking. It makes my body feel gross.
We stopped suddenly.
"Here. You can smoke here." She smiled. Her laugh lines were emphasized.
"Thanks." I mumbled. Inhale.
"She speaks," She said as she rose her eyebrows in awe, "What other words do ya know?" Pop.
"Fuck." Inhale.
She let out a harsh, surprised laugh, "That was unexpected. And crude."
"Aren't you worried about second-hand smoke damage to your lungs?" I asked apathetically. Inhale.
"Sweets, I'm a doctor and I've been smoking since I was ten. I know the risks. I know how addicting it is. I'm a walking oxymoron. A doctor who smokes." She laughed more heartily. I heard the raspy again.
And for a second, while her profile was laughing, I saw him laughing. He didn't have laugh lines though. But I guess he always seemed permanently young. He was supposed to stay young with me.
"So it took you a bit to speak, I'm guessing you're the same with laughing." Her pink lips grinned.
Inhale. Flick.
She exhaled slowly; calmly.
We didn't speak for a while. My cigarette was almost out.
He would be putting it under his shoe, grinding it out. He would be pulling out another one. Pack, lighter, mouth, pause, inhale.
His hands eventually began shaking.
His hair was starting to thin.
By the time we found out, it was too late.
"Why did you say Cancer?" I asked while trying to cover my cough.
She answered while looking ahead, "You'd be surprised, but working in a hospital you see a lot of Cancer patients." Her smile was dripping with sarcasm. But she still seemed happy. Then she turned to me, "I saw you practically vomit. You haven't been smoking long. I'd say you started the past twenty-four hours. And I realize I'm supposed to respect patients privacy, but I was Wesley's doctor."
My throat closed when she said his name.
"Wesley had been smoking for a very long time."
"Don't."
"But just because he died that was, doesn't mean you should." Pop.
Inhale.
"I'm surprised you don't recognize me." She said while chewing, chewing, chewing.
I rose an eyebrow. I think I'd remember her bright pink lips and vibrant green nails. Especially her doctoral dressing habits.
Inhale.
"Let me introduce myself to you again Ms. McKinley." She lobbed her wad of gum into the trash can, pulled a tissue from her pocket to wipe off her lipstick, released her hair from the pony tail and folding her hands carefully in front of her. Her posture suddenly changed, and her voice grew serious. In my sleep deprived state, her name rushed back to me.
"Doctor Hansen." We said in unison.
I groaned, "For--"
"God's sake. I know." She pulled a slender tube from her pocket, and she tugged the cap off revealing a thick bubble gum pink lipstick-- one that was well used. She laughed, "Hey, currently I'm on a break. Losing a patient is hard, and we had to sort out paper work."
I clenched my teeth.
"Oh I'm sorry, did I offend you?" She suddenly sounded angry.
"Yes-"
"Oh, sorry, I didn't realize you could taste my words with nicotine staining your tongue."
I blinked, too shocked to say anything.
"Ms. McKinley, you don't have to take up his dirty habit." She put a new stick of gum in her mouth.
I looked at the cigarette.
"There wasn't anything we could do for Wesley, Ms. McKinley. But you still have so much potential." I brought the last bit of cigarette to my lips and paused.
"He wouldn't want you to go down this path."
I laughed, "He was always offering me them. He wanted me to be like him." I frowned, "I finally am."
"Jane." Our eyes met, "Do you honestly believe he would have asked you if he knew you would have said yes?" We were silent for a moment. The ask was building up. "Well," she sighed, "My break is almost over. Think about what you want, Jane."
And she clicked away in her red pumps.
Click
Click
Click.
I stared at the burning cigarette.
And then I felt it slip out of my fingers.
And I watched the ashes crumble against the cement.
And I brought my sneaker over it.
And I crunched it.
Dr. Hansen stopped at the door and looked at me.
And she smiled.
Tuesday 10 March 2015
A Poem
The sky was so blue
that the ocean became angrily wicked
and the mountains were then torn
because their feelings were being twisted
But one moment held strong
between the sea and its song
as the horizon made them kiss
The earth stood still
with a silence that killed
Oh,
Oh,
it wasn't something to miss.
that the ocean became angrily wicked
and the mountains were then torn
because their feelings were being twisted
But one moment held strong
between the sea and its song
as the horizon made them kiss
The earth stood still
with a silence that killed
Oh,
Oh,
it wasn't something to miss.
Sunday 8 March 2015
Lucifer
Lucifer,
I wish I had spent my moments
when I was younger
praying for your pain
to dissipate into the fiery sea
that you know rule over
instead of praying
that my family would be alright.
Because I knew that eventually they would be
but you would suffer
for the rest of eternity.
I wonder if you cry
at night when people are dreaming
of their heaven
and I wonder if you
ever feel lonely in the
pit you were exiled to
and I wonder if the angels
who sided by you
ever felt like they weren't
the ones who were evil
but the ones who wanted
a change of their faith.
I wonder if you pray to
your father
trying to get him to speak to you
to tell him what you meant
and what you wanted
and how you love him
even though he threw you into his greatest creation;
Hell.
I wonder about all the people who pray to God
but never once decided to pray to the one being
who needs to be saved the most.
Not saved as in religion,
but saved from your emotions
and pain
and suffering that you go through
every moment
your lungs expand.
I wonder if you ever think about how your name means
Star.
How it's supposed to guide people through the night
and how it's a reflection of how someone sees them self.
I wonder if you ever say Star slowly
and let it linger on your tongue
because you were guiding
the angels
who wanted
change.
You were
standing up
for what
you believed
in
and
you
got
punched
for
thinking
so
differently.
I prayed to you last night.
I hope that you heard me.
For I said how strong you were
for pushing through
against your father's anger.
How you've held your own.
How you tried to do something taboo,
but when we revolt against the kings down here
they're called revolutions
and what you did was sin.
I prayed that you took a breath in
and felt pride that you went with your heart
passion
goals.
You went with who you were.
Are.
You're a Star, Lucifer.
You're a Star.
I wish I had spent my moments
when I was younger
praying for your pain
to dissipate into the fiery sea
that you know rule over
instead of praying
that my family would be alright.
Because I knew that eventually they would be
but you would suffer
for the rest of eternity.
I wonder if you cry
at night when people are dreaming
of their heaven
and I wonder if you
ever feel lonely in the
pit you were exiled to
and I wonder if the angels
who sided by you
ever felt like they weren't
the ones who were evil
but the ones who wanted
a change of their faith.
I wonder if you pray to
your father
trying to get him to speak to you
to tell him what you meant
and what you wanted
and how you love him
even though he threw you into his greatest creation;
Hell.
I wonder about all the people who pray to God
but never once decided to pray to the one being
who needs to be saved the most.
Not saved as in religion,
but saved from your emotions
and pain
and suffering that you go through
every moment
your lungs expand.
I wonder if you ever think about how your name means
Star.
How it's supposed to guide people through the night
and how it's a reflection of how someone sees them self.
I wonder if you ever say Star slowly
and let it linger on your tongue
because you were guiding
the angels
who wanted
change.
You were
standing up
for what
you believed
in
and
you
got
punched
for
thinking
so
differently.
I prayed to you last night.
I hope that you heard me.
For I said how strong you were
for pushing through
against your father's anger.
How you've held your own.
How you tried to do something taboo,
but when we revolt against the kings down here
they're called revolutions
and what you did was sin.
I prayed that you took a breath in
and felt pride that you went with your heart
passion
goals.
You went with who you were.
Are.
You're a Star, Lucifer.
You're a Star.
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