Fat.

She sat in the back of the room like every day.
She hung her head to her lap,  avoiding the people sitting around her
like
a
swarm
of
bugs.
She never spoke to them unless for group work
in which she was never chosen.
But on this day
when she was sitting
as she always did
away from view,
a boy spoke to someone else
quite blatantly.
This girl whom he spoke to
was the size of a chopstick.
But her height was that
of a paperclip.
The girl who sat in the far back spot
was very insecure.
She had a lot of muscle
which made her quite dense.
She wasn't large by any means
but her weight was much different than people guessed
because she was one-thirty-four.
And she was five-foot-six-and-a-half feet tall.
She usually wore heeled boots.
This made her roughly five-foot-nine.
For someone at that height, was healthy.
Her muscle
was
healthy.
But this boy spoke to the tiny girl
"Ew, you're one-hundred-and-thirty pounds? That's f***ing disgusting you fat a**."
"Oh my god you're so fat."
"Fat."
"Fat."
"Fat."
This tiny girl was laughing
knowing it wasn't true
but the girl who sat in the back
was hiding her tears
because she weighed more than that
she was fat
fat
fat
fat.
She felt embarrassed.
So much so
that when she got to her next class, she couldn't stop staring at the girl who had taken up modelling.
She was the girl's height.
But she was thin.
So much so
that it made the girl who sat in the same spot everyday
upset.
She wanted to be as thin as her.
Have no flab on her arms
Be able to wear t-shirts freely
Be pretty
Beautiful
even.
"You're eyes are so pretty."
People say to her.
"I love your hair."
People say to her.
"Oh wow, you have runner's legs."
People say to her.
What they don't say
is if she's skinny.
They don't say fat.
They don't say skinny.
She just
is.
And the girl in the back was torn a part
from hearing indirectly how fat she was.
And she's tearing herself up
everyday
because of these things she hears.

Allice

Looking up into the freezing snow, her eyes slowly blinked.  She stood on a jagged boulder that looked out onto the city beneath her.  But she didn't make her way to the glowing lights.  Instead, she made her way through the woods behind her to begin her search.  She had known that she would have to look for this since she was a mere tot, and she never knew that it would be this calming to try to find it.  She always imagined she would be frightened, her legs buckling.  That she would be too much of a wimp to go out on her own.
To say goodbye to her loved ones.
But she never did say goodbye.
She simply said goodnight.
And then she left.

She shook her head, getting rid of the familiar smiles that her adoptive mother and father gave her.
The sun would be rising soon.  They'd start making coffee in a few hours.  They'd be waking her up for training in a few hours.

But she wouldn't be there to be awoke.

Hopefully she'd be long gone by then.

She shuddered at the thought of their reactions.  She swallowed roughly and wiped her brow as she pictured them sending out the hounds to find her.

Her footsteps became sprints.
She couldn't go through this heartache just to be brought back.
She silently thanked the sky for snowing, hoping it would snow enough to get rid of her scent and tracks.  She thought about using the trees as travel, but realised that even if she was safer, she wouldn't get very far in a few hours.
She adjusted her bag as she swiftly made her way through the trees.

After a while she found herself in front of a cliff.  She swore as she collapsed in rage, pounding her gloved fists into the foot of snow.
She scanned the edges of the cliff, focused on getting across.  Her heart lifted when she saw the two edges of cliffs grew closer a few kilometres to the right.  She moved as fast as she could in her tired state, and she sat in the snow for a moment when she came to the close cliff edges.

"C'mon, Allice."  She punched the ground with agitation for how exhausted she was.
She shakily stood up and peered to the bottom of the cliff.
Pitch black.
She swatted her thick black locks out of her face.
Allice moved to the base of a pine tree, then pushed off to gain speed for her leap of faith.
Her breath froze as she glided over the crevasse,   choking her as she fumbled ungracefully into the piles of snow on the other side.
She coughed roughly into the powder, cursing when a spout of blood splattered the icy rain.
She forced herself up, falling down several times in the process.
Her breath was shallow as she continued down the snow filled field.  She felt uneasy about how open the area was, but she made her way quickly.

She didn't know how she knew where she was going, but her body seemed to move her like a map and a compass.
The sun was setting as she came across the stone building she sought out.
It had runes along each side of the doorway, and without a second thought she placed her palm over the moon symbol.
Her eyes flashed ivory, blinding her vision completely.  Fear shot through her as her body began moving forward by itself.  She felt herself walk forward into a tight space that was quite damp.
After several moments her vision returned, but she couldn't see through the tunnel because it was pitch dark.  She kept walking cautiously forward- if she was moving forward.  Her equilibrium became unbalanced as she became confused as to where she was going.

The tunnel opened up suddenly, and a bright white orb floated in the centre of the room.  Torched filled the walls, giving off a warm yellow glow.  And as she brushed her hair out of her face, she realised it wasn't black anymore.  Instead, it was a vibrant glowing opal.
She swallowed her fear and stepped closer to the orb.
She found it.
She found herself.
She stalked towards the orb carefully, afraid of what would happen.
But as she grabbed the orb, its light shot into her body sending out screams of pain as she shot into the air.
Her hair was flying around her face by forces of wind, growing out in long strands.
Her eyes glowed beautifully as her skin radiated white light.
As the scene calmed, she knew.
She knew everything about her.

Because she wasn't Allice anymore.
She never was.
She was the goddess of light, saviour of lands and creator of being.

But instead of staying in the tomb, she left.
Her light radiated constantly as she went out into the snow land.
By now, the sky had fallen dark, but  still she sent out light to extreme lengths.
She shot up into the sky, meeting the moon as its grace, and she placed herself into the atmosphere.
She knew what she was doing would be helpful to all people.
She knew that this is what she had to do.
And yet, sadness filled her.

Her light became unstable, glowing at immense power.
Until, the light consumed her completely.  Sending sparks of ivory throughout the entire sky.
It formed a shield around the mountains, forest and cities beyond travel.
And by the time the sparks had settled in their cloaking, Allice was no longer a being.
She was a saviour.

The 'Love' Bite

I remember seeing my grandmother's cat for the first time. 
Big Red.
What a scary name.
But she was so beautiful.  With thick orange fur that kissed her emerald eyes gently.  The way she strutted through the large wooden house with pride made me want her to love me.
So I wanted to pet her, love her, kiss her, hug her.
But when I asked my grandmother about the cat, she told me not to chase or bother her because she wasn't a friendly cat.
But I was young.
That isn't an excuse now, but I was just so curious.
Wanting an animal to love me.
So when my grandmother was in the garden I set out to find Red.
Once I found her in the kitchen I started running at her.
Of course she ran.
Into the living room.  I finally caught her though, feeling my tiny hands fold into her thick fur.
And then it was like a scene from jaws.
Her head turned sideways, her mouth seemed to unhinge, and she submerged her fangs  between my left eye and temple.
I dropped her.
Not from the pain, but from fear of what my grandmother would do.
I was scared she'd be angry.
I disobeyed her.
I just wanted to love the kitten.
So I sprinted upstairs into the bathroom with tears down my cheeks.
I looked in the mirror in horror.
Blood was gushing from my face, no matter how many tissues I used it wouldn't stop.
My grandmother knocked on the door after a while asking if I was alright.
I told her I would be out in a minute.
So me.
Thinking oh so cleverly.
Plastered tissue to the side of my face.
And walked out of the bathroom.
My grandmother of course instantly asked what happened, and I told her about Red.
She hugged me then.
Which startled me.
And she took me to the doctors.
I had to take pills to make sure it didn't get infected or anything.
And that was that.
It took weeks to heal.
But me and that cat...
We're on good terms now.
Sometimes if I'm lucky, she'll let me pet her.
Sometimes, if I'm really lucky, she'll lay in my lap.
She's a good cat.
I was just a bad child.

My Love For You

It is the act of not doing to save others happiness
that feels as though you are stabbing your own heart
but instead of falling into your grave
you live through the ever growing anguish you created.
So why, why harm someone you adore so ravenously
when the answer isn't as simple as you care.
It is done because my love for you goes beyond
anything I could possible imagine.
My love for you and your joy is something
that I don't even manifest for myself
because my love for you is indescribable.
Even if it seems as though I'm hurting you,
oh sweet,
If I act on anything I will bring sorrow to your heart
and you will live through it
as I live through my knife wound
and that,
is something I can not allow happen to you.
I apologise in ways you don't see
each apology runs down my face
and all I can do is let the dampness become
absorbed into my sleeves
as I wipe them away.
Because my love for you,
is something I will not let you fret about
I will not allow you to be desolate
in my hands
so I will not hold you
so you will be free.

It was April 27th of this year when I knew I had cancer.
I didn't go to the doctor, or feel a lump or anything.  But the day was just so... different.  Lethargic.  Painful to think.  As though my body couldn't focus on anything except the creeping agony that I couldn't feel yet.
And all I remember doing that day was blinking.
How every time I closed my eyes, it felt as though a lifetime surged through me, creating, well...me.
I didn't go to the doctor right away.
I scanned my body, did all the feeling tests.  Which was weird, because I had never felt my body so much before.  It was like disturbing sacred land. I was trying to comprehend why I was suddenly so panicked when no one in my family had cancer.
There was no reason to be frightened.
"I'm overreacting."
Was what I kept saying every time I didn't feel a lump.
"There's nothing wrong."
Was what I tried saying when I forced myself to breathe.

I never found anything.

But the doctors I went to did.

They found it in my ovaries.

They told me I wouldn't have blood-related kids.

They told me they were sorry.

They told me about the surgeries.

About the Chemo.

About the pain.

About the life altering chaos I was about to go through.

And when they walked out of the door, they muttered to each other, "She's barely twenty.  Her loss must be difficult."

And all I thought was how dare they.
How dare they try to even comprehend the thought of being unable to carry something that was going to mean the world to them.  Because that new life would be my world.
But in a moment, it was gone.
And I had never, ever in my entire life feel so ripped off.
So angry.
So betrayed.

I didn't pray that night.

I showered.

And cried.

And tumbled into my unkempt bed.

And I slept.

Chemo was expensive.  I was in college, far away from family.  They were supportive, sad.
But I felt anger.
Resentment to them.
Because they pitied me.
I felt like kicked dog on the side of an abandoned road.
And I wanted to scream at them.
That they didn't understand.

But they asked me what made me go seek help.  I told them I didn't feel right.

"Was it a lump?"  They would ask.

"Did it hurt when you weren't menstruating?"  They would prod.

"Did something show you something was wrong?"  They would pick.

And I gave them the same answer.

I felt different.

 I went for a check up.

I got the news.

I wanted to die.

Not from Cancer.  But that fucking thing can go kiss my ass.  It should be easy as it's kissed my ovaries. 

I wanted to die in a different way.  By a car accident, heart attack, falling asleep and never waking up.

But now I'm going to die. 

I caught it a while ago,  so they can only slow the cancer.  Not stop it.  

"Three years max."  The doctors said mournfully.  As though I had already died.

I felt dead inside, so I guess that's the same thing.

I stopped doing things I enjoyed. 

I used to ride my bike by the ocean every day.  Twice. 

I didn't have the strength to anymore.

I used to photograph people at their happiest.

I threw my camera against my bedroom wall.

I tore shelves down in my room. 

I stabbed scissors into the wall.

I never went more than one day without crying.

I always cried until I fell asleep.

That was what I was like for  a year. 

It felt excruciating.

I lost my hair.  I used to wear a wig because I felt embarrassed, but I stopped and started wearing a toque. 

I missed my hair a lot.  It wasn't very long, I was always called a lesbian for having a pixie cut.

But I loved it. 

It was a subtle mouse brown that somehow managed to make me look like a rock star every day without doing anything to it. 

I didn't have to shave my legs or anything anymore though. 
That didn't suck. 
It sucked because it reminded me that I was dying.
And my insides were screwed.

But I went to the doctor almost every day for two and a half years.

At this point, I was on edge daily. 
Not angry, just anxious.

Like, I knew I was going to die any day now.

But I didn't.

In three years I was still alive.

And I felt so much hope well inside of me that I thought I was going to burst.

I think I did burst actually.

In tears.

The doctors didn't know what to say. 

I still didn't have any hair, but I strutted with my bald head high. 

I felt amazing.

I even fell in love.

He was amazing.

He knew what I was going through, but stayed with me. 

He wanted us to get married, have children--
Which he knew we would have to adopt.

But he didn't care.

We were in love.

We travelled all around Europe.

We moved to Paris. 

I became fluent in french.

We had an apartment.

We walked down the river ways.

We were in a book.









But, my book ended five years after I had been diagnosed with Cancer. 

I was twenty four when I died holding my husband's hand.

I was twenty four when I had so much cancer in me, that I could have killed twenty other people.

I was twenty four when my little girl had to kiss her mother goodbye. 

I was twenty four when my life ended.

A Poem

09/01/2014

It was as if I was touching the clouds
That the smoke danced me into the sky
our breaths molding to the smog
is that what it's like, say you, to be high?
With the heavy bass trampling our hearts
as though that was what kept us alive
it was constantly a blur
but I swear to you,  I never felt deprived.
Through every seeding moment
it felt like eternity
but as time ran from us
it was merely internally.
You spoke, you spoke with confidence
about how I should write a song
but your harmonising creativity
would make all my work seem wrong.
But that was never negative
Oh, no it made me smile
because of how you spoke so solely
it made eternity last a while.
This isn't a song, but I would add guitar
just to say I did it,
and just to prove you right
even if it sounds like shit
I would never take it back
Those moments are precious to me
we were never that trapped before,
but I had never felt so free.
This isn't a song
but I hope a poem will do
because you've done so much more for me
I hope I can do so much for you.

In the Shadows

I was traveling somewhere.
My mother, step father and I.
And people.
About ten other people.
And we came across what seemed like a campsite.
With what seemed like a temple.
It felt very... Egyptian. 
As everyone set up to stay the night, I felt oddly cast out.
As though I was being punished.
So I stayed near this temple.
Until everyone was falling asleep.
They didn't tell me to sleep on the steps leading down to that sandstone entrance.
But I did.
Because I was being punished.
They didn't tell me that if I woke up, and the dark, damp entrance enticed me; not to go in.
But I did.
Because I was being curious.
I hazed out of sleep, the slick ebony doorway lurching in my thoughts.
But I only took a few steps in.
Because a sudden tear of horror ripped through my body.
Ripped through my sight.
Because I thought I saw a woman.
I thought I saw her eyes.
But I didn't think anything of it, other than I had to get out.
So I did.
Two steps.
Then I fell back asleep.
Now, I woke up again.
Hazy and tired. 
Wondering,
'Now, why isn't it day yet?  It's pitch as the sea on a cloudy eve, oh why isn't it day?'
And that doorway called for me.
Screamed for me.
So I went back in.
And this time, oh this time I saw more of a shadow.
More of a figure.
More of her eyes.
I only saw her for a moment, but I saw her.
Her willowy, sickly figure.
Her black thin, sticky hair over her face.
And her ivory eyes staring hollowly at me.
And I had to get out.
Panic swept over me as I couldn't breathe.
I couldn't breathe.
Oh, I couldn't breathe.
I stumbled backwards, out of the doorway.
Why?
Why did I go back in?
I knew something was wrong?
Why?
Why?
WHY.
As I was out, catching my breath, my mother came over.
And she didn't ask what was wrong.
Somehow, she knew.
She knew everything.
But she wasn't there, so how could she know?
And then her face grew terrified.
Her eyes as wide as saucers.
Staring at me with such an intense fear that I grew scared of her.
And then I spoke with choked speech.
"I saw her, and I don't want to see her anymore.  Not ever again."
I was crying.
I heard myself sobbing.
But her eyes stayed open as she shook.
She shook.
And she talked in a hushed voice.
"She told me that that isn't the last time you will see her.  You will see her again."
And then her name rang through my head.
Solid and clear.
Roberta Koskov.
That woman was Roberta Koskov.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Hey guys, so this is partially a story, partially poetry and mostly from my dream (or nightmare I should say) from last night.  I woke up so scared that I couldn't move for a few minutes.  I was afraid if I rolled over I would see this woman that I dreamed of.
This entire concept was odd to me, mostly because my mother spoke to her, and I didn't.
But to be fair I was running from it.
But I have had many recent nightmares about ghosts where my mother can talk to them and I can't.  And that she can see them and I can't.  It's getting disturbing as it keeps progressing.
Another very disturbing concept in this dream was that I was told her entire name. Which I have never had.  I've only had one other name spoken to me in a dream, and that was only their first name.
Anyways, this dream definitely shook me up, and I was hoping writing it down would help get it out of my mind.
So, *poof* be gone, nightmare.

-E