Steam, Sunshine, and Roses -
July 7th 2009, 03:19 AM
Crimping my hair.
Brushing my teeth.
Putting on my shoes.
Getting my papers up.
Going to school.
My routine. Every morning the monotony of the same exact ritual. Dull and unimpressive. At school it's about the same.
Ahh, then there is dance. Dance is where I outlet my monotonous and dreary days. Twirling and spinning, dropping and rising. Always something different in dance, like Mitchie. There is only one month left in school. Most people are buzzing about, talking to their friends. I have no friends. I had a lot of friends before tenth grade. Tenth grade was when I came out. I am a lesbian. The day I came out, all of my "friends" abandoned me. The stares were what killed me the most. A new girl came that day, her name was Mitchie, and we were instant friends.
We are now in twelth grade, I asked Mitchie why she never abandoned me after she knew I was a lesbian. And I was totally unprepared for the answer.
"Cara, I'm a lesbian too. I didn't abandon you because I didn't want you to abandon me when I told you I loved you."
I was excited. Too excited, and it showed on my face. She asked me a question I wouldn't have been able to answer only a minute ago.She asked me if I loved her too.
How could I explain!? I loved everything about her!
"How could you even ask me that? I thought it was obvious!"
"What do you mean?"
"I love you! Your ivory skin, your black shaggyness (she calls it hair), your plump red lips, your 'I don't care' attitude, everything!"
"I love you too! I love your butterscotch hair, your voice when you say my name, your eyes(she emphasized this the most, because even though I was black, I had bright green, yellow, and blue eyes), the way you don't try to be everything that society wants, everything!"
We hugged the most beautiful hug I have ever had the pleasure of being part of.
In her arms, I felt so warm and safe.
I felt right.
After our embrace, Mitchie and I we so elated. I was shocked that this had really happened, and I reminded myself that it was most likely a dream. I pinched myself to make sure, and I have never been so happy to be hurt. I asked Mitchie, "So, are we like...I don't know...going out?" She looked at me like she was slightly hurt, and said in a sarcastic tone "No, just because we are best friends, we are both lesbians, and we both love each other gives us no reason at all to date. You are utterly absurd!" We hugged again after she said that, and now I have my first girlfriend!
The next day at school was hard. Mitchie had decided that we should flount our happiness together, despite what I thought was best for her. When I got to school that day, Mitchie was waiting for me. Leaned against the wall of B Hall. She looked even better than yesterday, probably because we had been crying. She was luminous, wearing a pink and black top that was silken, and black pants with pink pinstripes, and a pink bow belt and headband. She looked so pretty in pink and black, and I hate pink, so thats fairly beautiful! Her ensemble made her fair skin look even whiter than usual, but I loved it. I didnt look nearly as good. I had on a brown dress with a green collar. The green looked good against my chocolate skin, but I did love hers better. She lit up as she saw me walking towards her. I still looked a little worried as I thought of how our day would go. Her smile got wider and more radiant as I got closer and closer. When I was roughly 2 hundred feet away, we both started sprinting towards each other. We ran into a warm embrace, panting as we had just ran. I had that safe feeling again, and I didn't want it to end. Eventually, we broke our hug and I grabbed Mitchie's hand. "Are you ready for this? Are you really ready?"
"Yes, because I have you with me. As long as I have you, I will always be ready."
We hugged again, but it was cut short. Roxxie Marabous, the most spoiled kid in school. Her little sisters, the twins, were very nice, but she was a witch.
"Oh my, oh my, oh my. Do we have a little pair of dykes? How splendid! The school will be most happy to know. Awww, and only 3 weeks left in school...how will you cope?" She laughed, well....more like cackled, and walked away, giddy that she had some new gossip.
"Oh NO!" Me and Mitchie gasped at the exact same time. We looked at each other. I was scared, Mitchie was frantic.
"This isn't how I wanted everyone to find out! This is bad, oh no......this is BAD!" Mitchie kept saying it over and over again. I started to cry, and that made her stop.
"Oh, hush hush hush...don't worry about Roxxie, it will be okay, I promise." She cooed. Nothing could get me to stop, silent sobs started to escape from me, and I was trembling.
That is when it happened.
Mitchie sat down beside me, and lifted my head up by my chin. She turned my head towards her face, and shut my eyelids. The next thing I know, her lips are touching mine. Moving so slightly, opening. My lips opened automatically, and I realised, I was kissing Mitchie. My crying had stopped, but now I was super worried. People were looking. Gawking really, at the sight of the two of us, kissing. After about two point four seconds, I stopped noticing the people and looked at Mitchie. Her eyes were open, and staring into mine. She held me their, in her eyes and lips, for about a minute. Her lips stopped moving. She broke away from me, and we were smiling.
"Well, that worked....I'm not crying anymore." I laughed a little, very softly.
Mitchie laughed a little, and hugged me again. "I love you." She whispered it into my ear.
"I love you to Mitchie." I whispered, stroking the back of her hair.
The rest of the day was miserable. Everyone was cruel to Mitchie and I. They threw peices of paper that said dykes-for-life on them, and a few children threw rocks. Bye the end of the day, we both had sustained injuries. In dance Mitchie got a black eye. I'm really glad it happened in one of the two classes we have together. When I saw Brittany punch Mitchie, I had to defend her. I walked up to her and she looked like she was ready to kick me. What she didn't know was that I had karate lessons when I was little. She brought her foot up to my face, and I grabbed and twisted it. I twisted her leg until I heard a "SNAP!!!" Then I let go. Brittany's leg was broken, and she had a twisted ankle...So much for her dance career. I helped Mitchie up and asked her if she was okay.
"Why did you twist that girl's leg!?"
"She was about to kick me in the face. It was self defense."
"You know damn good and well it wasn't self defense. I think her leg is broken."
"Mitchie, I'm sorry. I just lost my cool. It wouldn't have happened if she didn't punch you or try to kick me."
"So that's what this is about? You don't think I can defend myself?!"
"I'm sorry." I whimpered.
"Ugh,just don't do it again."
"Thanks Mitch. I love you."
"Love ya too." SHe still sounded mad. I decided not to press my luck.
Since dance was at the end of the day, Mitchie and I were excited that we could go home. We decided to walk home, because nobody walked at my school. Our walk home was relatively peaceful. I live right beside Mitchie, so we can walk to each other's house whenever we want to.
"Can I come by in about an hour, so you can do your homework or whatever?" I asked. I was shocked by the answer.
"Not today, but I can come over to your house, after about midnight."
"Why so late?" I was perplexed.
"I'm grounded, so I'm going to have to sneak out."
"NO, it's okay. I don't want you to get in anymore trouble."
"Okay then.......see ya at school then. I love you Cara."
"I love you too Mitchie, and I always will."
She gave me a short little peck on the cheek, and left. She was still mad.
When I went home that night, I was utterly pleased with my day. Other than the injuries, both sustained and caused in my case, I had a lovely day. Mitchie was my girlfriend, and I had never loved anyone more. I realised how dirty and gross I looked, so I took a shower and washed my caramel hair that Mitchie apparently liked, with my caramel scented shampoo/bodywash. I counted my injuries as the water ran over me. I was appalled at the quantity. I had thirty-two bruises, twelve scratches, and my girlfriend had a black eye. The scratches stung, and the bruises were sore, even though you could hardly see them against my warm dark skin. I put the plunger down, and started to run a bath to relax in now that I was clean. The warm water soothed my muscles and joints. I now noticed how bad my body hurt. I felt like I had been trampled, and my heart ached to see my sweetheart.
After I had soaked for about three hours, I wrapped in my biggest beach towel and went into my room. I cranked my thermostat up to about ninety, so I wouldnt be cold, and sat down in my chair. I sighed as I got up the go blowdry my hair. After my hair was dry, and my teeth were brushed, I went back into my room. It was hot, and relaxed my muscles. I let my towel drop, and went over to the closet. I picked out a holey t-shirt and some pajama pants my grandmother got me for Christmas to put on, along with some green underwear and a sports bra. I went into my Amma's (Mom's) room, to ask her if I could use the treadmill. Of course she said yes, but to hurry up, it was almost eleven and it was a school night. After I was on the treadmill for about thirty minutes, I felt like I had successfully run through my tears, after which I was exhausted.
I went to bed, and dreamt about my sweet, lovely Mitchie.
Me and Mitchie were walking down the street, and flounting our love. We were walking very close to each other, with our hands (that normally would only be holding each other) in each other's back pockets. She leaned into my face and said, "Don't act so nervous, you'r freaking me out hun!" I tried to loosen up, but I was confused, no one was staring, and she didn't smell the same. Instead of smelling like sweet vanilla like she usually did, she had almost no smell. I passed it off as my mind playing tricks on me. When Mitchie and I got to my house, no one was home, so we went upstairs. It is extremely hard to go upstairs while kissing someone with every once of passion in your body. We managed to get upstairs without permanant damage, and flopped onto my bed. She started to undo my ponytail, and I started to undo the knot on the back of her shirt. We got done at the same time, and laughed a breathy laugh. I took off her shirt, and she took off mine. We took off our pants while kissing, which was a feat in itself, and unhooked our bras. She started kissing me very urgently, and I loved it more than ever.
BEEP BEEP BEEP.....BEEP BEEP BEEP.....BEEP BEEP BEEP.....BEEP BEEP BEEP....."Good morning! I'm Tom Watts with you'r morning news! Today's weather is going to be sunny with a slight chance of cloudiness."
I groaned and blocked out the rest. I really thought that it happened, it felt so real. Then I remembered, her smell was off, she was acting weird, and we had only been dating a few days. There was no way our relationship had escalated that fast. I sighed at the thought of my pleasant dream, and noticed something that shocked me fully awake. My hand was down my underwear! Had I masturbated in my sleep?! I shook the thought out of my head, and commenced with my morning routine. I felt like I needed another shower, so I didn't have time to style my hair as usual. I threw it into a sexy, messy bun with chopsticks, and I didn't have time to find my sandals, so I had to wear my yellow Chuck Taylors.
When I got to school, Mitchie was there waiting on me.
As soon as we were seen together, the cruelty started again. It's like me and Mitchie were an object, toy like, to be played with and abused. We banded together through love, against people, violence, anger, hate, & homophobia. We walked to English class holding hands and having rocks, paper, and trash thrown at us. It was hard for me to resist protecting Mitchie, and I felt like she was changing in my arms. She seemed to be turning into a corpse, dull and lifeless at school and home. Even her kiss, once so warm and inviting, was now just a symbol of how stone like she had turned. I was worried about her, and it made me dread what I might have to do to snap Mitchie out of the daze.
Mitchie's parents seemed to become unapproving of our friendship (which I assumed was all they knew about) and would no longer let Mitchie and I spend time together if they could help it. Mitchie told me why after a week of zombie-like dazing.....I was just happy to hear her voice.
"My parents know." She half whispered, half whimpered the reply to my question.
"What Mitchie? Talk louder." I urged. I really hoped she would say more. Her voice was like music, too long silenced.
"They know about us. They know what I am, and they know about us." She started to cry.
"Don't cry baby, its okay. They will learn to accept us." I cooed at her like she was a fragile piece of my heart.
"They.....They...........They threatened me Cara. They gave me an ultimatum!" She sobbed, and simultaneously ripped my heart to bits and pieces.
"What did they say hunn?" I urged.
"They told me to either leave you, or to get out of their house. They said they wouldn't have an abomination of god living in their house. Cara, I.....I don't know what to do. I love you, and never want to even leave youíre side, but I need a place to live. I did choose option two, but now I need a place to stay, and I just need to rest Cara.....I'm sorry." She heaved, and said this long speech in between little hiccups.
I was elated she chose me, but now I wanted to know why she was so zombie-like.
"Mitch, please answer this for me. Why have you been acting like a zombie? Everything isn't okay at your house is it." I said the last question like it was a statement. She looked at me, through streaked eyes.
"Everything is perfectly fine, other than the kicking out part." She laughed halfheartedly.
"The reason I'm so 'zombie-like' is because I'm always either fighting with my parents, or packing. I'm just really tired, and I need a break from life." She did look exhausted now that I thought of it. Her eyes had dark bruised patches under them, and she looked sullen. Her face was still gorgeous, but it wasnít luminous like it used to be. She looked overworked and homely. I thought of the most brilliant idea to ever hatch from the recesses of my mind, and I thanked my brain for its clever solution. That afternoon, Mitchie walled home and I rode the bus to get a head start on her. When the bus stopped I ran to the front and waited on the door to open. As soon as the door was open enough for my thin frame to slither through, I seized the opportunity.
I ran into the house at full speed after thanking the lord that the door was unlocked. I started shouting for my Amma.
"Amma! Amma! Please come here! I need to ask you something!" I shouted at the top of my lungs.
"Whoa. What is it Cara-beara?" She looked worried, and I really think she was because she used her pet name for me.
"Amma, Mitchie is getting kicked out of her house, and she really needs somewhere to stay." I panted, I was still trying to catch my breath from running.
"Oh, sweetie. I have to think about it.....Mitchie is a sweet girl, she always cleans up her mess when she is here, she is youíre closest friend, she actually calls me Amma instead of Ms.Carconi, and I love her to death. I think thatís enough grounds for a yes, don't you?" She smiled as she saw my anticipation to go tell Mitchie. "Go on. Be back before seven. I'm making pot roast. Ask Mitchie when she is moving in, okay? " She seemed pleased that Mitchie was going to be staying with us.
I ran as fast as I could out the back door, hopped the fence, and ran up to Mitchie's window to her room. My hand was about to touch the glass for a knock, and then I looked up. I will never forgive Mitchie's father.
He was beating her. I had a burning fire in my heart, and my fists. I yearned to pounce on the man damaging my sweet Mitchie, and pummel his face into a bloody pulp. I controlled my anger by ripping up a poor rose bush delicately placed just slightly too close to my grasp. The thorns stuck into my palms, but I felt nothing. My hands bled, and asked for a break, but I refused to let myself let go of the thorny bush, afraid I would jump through her window. When I looked up towards the window of my Love's room, she was gone. A beautiful girl was crying her eyes out, and I couldn't control myself any longer. I tapped vigorously on the window, and waited for her to open it.
I must have tapped the window for 5 minutes, when she ran over to the window. I looked hopeful, but then she simply closed the curtains, and cracked the window open an inch or two. I asked "Why did you close the curtains?" and she slipped a piece of paper under the window, just enough for me to grab it. The note brought tears to my eyes immediatly."I can't be with you anymore. Not after what you have seen. I love you, and always will. My sweet, precious rose." I collapsed. Falling, falling, down down down. Until a sea of dirt caught me, embraced me, enveloped me in darkness. When I woke up, all I could see was darkness. I was no longer on the earth surrounding Mitchie's house. I was on a soft bed, with a warm blanket over me. This wasnt mine, nor Amma's bed or blanket. I eagerly flipped the light on after much searching. I was saddened. I thought it was Mitchie's room, but it was a hospital. Large flourescent lights hummed, and I got dizzy and fell again. Falling, falling, down down down. Hard tiles breaking my fall this time. Again, shrouding me, protecting me was the darkness. Darkness was my serenity. I woke up in a dark room again. All I wanted was my Mitchie...Mitchie, no longer mine, just Mitchie. I needed her warm embrace, her scent of Vanilla-Vanille, her black shaggy hair, her soft white skin against my chocolate. I tried to get up to turn the lights on, but I couldn't. My body wouldn't listen to my brain. I tried to open my mouth. Useless. Nod my head. Useless. Then the light came on. I made a slight gurgly sound with the saliva in my mouth, hoping they would hear it. I heard the light footstep of a woman, she said "'Bout time you woke up. We was gettin' worried 'boutchya!" I tried to scream "You should be! I can't move!" But all that came out were more gurgly sounds. The kind looking lady brought a syringe over from a table, my eyes got wide in horror, or at least I wanted them to. I hated needles. Mitchie would never let this happen if she were here. In my head, I screamed "Please Mitchie, please. Come rescue me.....please." I whispered the last word. The lady stuck the syringe in my I.V. tube, and said "This'll wake your muscles up darlin'. Don'tchya fret. It'll start working 'bout two, three minutes from now." And she left. It seemed like an eternity before I could blink. My eyes hurt from being open so long. Then I could breathe easier, I could twitch my fingers, move my arm, sit up, and finally moved my legs. It felt like forever. As soon as I moved my legs, a nurse fluttered into the room.Her light voice reminded me of Mitchie. "Don't move dear, don't move. You might pass out again." I couldn't believe this. They just restored my ability to move, and they don't want me to? This made no sense. "Where is my Amma, I mean Mom, or whoever brought me here?" She looked at me with disgust and said "Some girl brought you in. She said you were her girlfriend when we asked her how she knew you. We wouldn't let her stay in the room because we didn't know how you passed out, so she is right outside your room. Do you want to see her?" The nurse's glare softened a bit. "Yes please. I would like that very much." When she left I smiled, and prepared myself for Mitchie. My look sullened when the door opened again, I wasn't going to make this easy for her. "Why are you here?" I asked.
Mitchie seemed to be in deep thought, but she was looking straight into my eyes--as if searching into my soul. My sister told me when I was little that I should say nonsense words in my head when someone did that, to hide what my mind was saying. That was the year my sister died.
My sister was a saint. I was nine when she started to get sick--that was nine years ago. She had dark cocoa colored skin and red hair. She ws the most beautiful girl I have ever seen, and I loved her more than anything. Her name was Rochticci Beauregard, I hated that last name. It reminded me of my father. My father left us after I was born, because my Amma wanted for him to let us move to a safer part of town, and for him to get a job. My father refused, and left. Fortunately he wasn't a violent man--most of the time. That's why it hurt me so much to see Mitchie's father beat her like that, but Rochticci was nothing like my dad. She was kind and gentle, and she always smelled like peppermint--even after excersising. She always gave me hugs and kisses, and kept me from crying.
She would always sing to me, "Pixie, Pixie, from far away skies. Pixie, Pixie, look into my eyes. Pixie, Pixie, I love to much. Pixie, Pixie, I am your crutch. Lean on me when you can't stand, I will always be holding your hand.Pixie, Pixie, from far away skies. Pixie, Pixie, look into my eyes." I loved when she sang that song to me. She had a voice to make a nighting gale jealous.
My sister was fourteen when she died of cancer. It spread before we could get her treatment, and we couldn't afford her treatment anyway. She died July eleventh, nineteen ninety-nine. I was giving her a kiss on the cheek when she said, "I will always love you Pixie, see you around." and took her last breath. I lay on the bad beside her for hours, until Amma sat on the edge of the bed and cried silently.
Mitchie was sitting right where I remember Amma sitting, crying silently, and looking at her hands. She had a small necklace draped through her fingers, with a beautiful knot elegently tied on the charm. She gave the knot a soft kiss, as if were going to break, and put the necklace around my neck. She left and didn't say a word.
My eternal Morphine.
I've found it, since yesterday.
The cold steel of a blade is all it takes to make me feel real these days.
I love it.
I love her.
I need it.
I need her.
I want it.
I want her.
Thoughts of her running through my head psh my hand down, and I feel the metal, sharp on my skin, make a cut.
One of many.
My arms, like a Christmas Ham.
I can't go on.
All I have to do is press.
I can't press down hard enough.
Images of her smile fill my head.
The water is warm running over me.
Whats the difference anymore?
I can't feel anything.
My shower stopper falls, and stats to fill the shower with water.
I lay down, face on the ground, and inhale.
This could do it.
All I have to do-is breathe.
Re: Steam, Sunshine, and Roses -
July 7th 2009, 03:19 AM
The emptiness inside me was effecting the way I acted. My mom even started to notice. I no longer talked to her with affection-or, I didn't talk to anybady with affection, and I started to call her Mother, or by her first name, Shana.
I was barren on the inside, and out. It seeped into my clothing, filled the air around me. I was no longer Cara Carconi--I was Numb. My hair hung limply and greasily from my itchy, white flaked scalp. I had centimeter long hair on my legs and under my arms, and I hadn't attended school in weeks, or was school out? I really didn't know.
I decided to bathe, and it was a good call. The water ran over my body, and actually made me be able to feel a little. My little and big cuts and gashes on my arms, legs, stomache, and thighs stung and itched. I was used to the itching, but the stinging was new. It actually felt good. Gave me that release, even though there wasn't much left to release in me. I think I just cut now to make myself a little more real to myself.
I got into my room and did my ritual of turning the thermostat to ninety, then sitting in my chair, sighing, getting up and blowdrying my hair, and all that stuff. When i was done, before I got dressed, I looked at myself in the mirror. I was way too fat. I had love handles and hips. I disgusted myself. I went into Shana's room, and cycled on her brand new stationary bicycle at the sixteen speed setting for four hours. How many calories did I burn? I got on the internet and searched a calculator.
SPEED SETTING : 16
WEIGHT : 110
TIME CYCLED : 4 hours
CALORIES PER MINUTE : 6.17
TOTAL CALORIES BURNED : 1480.8
I cheered in my head! How many pounds was that?! DAMN IT!!! That was only half a pound! Still, that was pretty impressive. If I did that exactly for the entire month, that would be 15 pounds!
I found my new Morphine.
Everything was starting to return to normal.
I was going to college now, only community, but it's better than nothing. My scars were healing up really well, because I took great care of them, treated them respectfully, like children. Thats exactly what the were to me. Fragile children born from my own destructive misery and torment.
Mitchie and I no longer spoke.
I missed her, I really did. Maybe when I was ready, I could go talk to her. We have three classes together because we registered for classes when we were still friends. Only friends, but still friends. I missed her smell, so I bought some Vanilla-Vanile from Bath&BodyWorks, but it didn't smell quite right. I was thinking about telling Amma about me being a lesbian while I was cycling, because she could've really helped me through all of that Mitchie stuff. I havent lost any weight, although I have been cycling for weeks. I think I should just let it go, I don't really care anymore. Amma has been really protective of me with boys lately, and I want to say "You know, you don't have to bother. They aren't my type." everytime she is like that. It's kinda funny actually! Seeing her go nuts over guys, when I'm looking at the girl walking beside them. I'm in my room now, listening to the radio play "Moonlight Sonata" by Mr.Ludwig Van Beethoven. I love this song. I pretended to lpay it on an invisible piano on my bed, although I had no clue how to play it.
I'm going to tell Amma.
When I walked into the room, Amma was watching a home video of me singing. I heard the sweet melody of my -to this day - favorite song.
"The itsy, bitsy, spider, crawled up the water spout! DOWN CAME THE RAIN AND WASHED THE SPIDER OUT!"
I laughed on the tape, and in real life I sang. "Out came the sun, and dried up all the rain. And the itsy, bitsy, spider, crawled up the spout again!" On the tape I screamed "I LOVE YOU MOMMY!" and in my Amma's room, I quietly whispered, "Love you Amma." She was asleep on her bed, with tissues all around her. I think she wished I was still that age. Calling her Mommy no matter how many times she corrected that she was Amma, stealing cookies from the jar and blaming it on my sister, singing Pixie with my sister to lull me into calmness. I wish I was that age again too. Life was a lot simpler and easier then. I sighed, and went into my room after giving Amma a kiss on the cheek. She seemed sad in her sleep, she always has. She always was crying while she slept, and she had a slight frown, like she was either displeased or sad. She looked so peaceful though.
I loved my Amma so much. I felt melancholy thinking about how much I must have put her through after Mitchie rejected me. I pulled my covers over my head, grabbed my Eeyore, and went to sleep.
Turning to my side.
I have these dreams a lot lately. They are so real that when I wake up I run to my bathroom, slam into the toilet, and puke. I didn't know what I was running from, until last night.
I was running again, and this time I looked back no matter how hard I had to try, I had to see what I was running from. What I saw was a beautiful girl, dressed in a pink silk top, with black shaggy hair. Where had I seen this girl before? I asked my subconsious mind. I couldn't put my finger on it. I woke and ran to the bathroom expecting to vomit violently as I had every night during the past month. Nothing. I didn't even feel queasy, but I got up and went to the bathroom anyway.
"Huh?" I moved my shoulder up and down in a shrug to myself as if answering my own question.
A couple of months passed uneventfully, without dreams, without excitment. I was dredging through my life again. Living each day in the soul-less monotony that is.
Then my dreams started again, but they were now beautiful.
In my new dreams there was a girl. Sitting alone on a park swing, with another one, empty, beside her. She twists around in circles, twists up the chain that is holding up the delicate looking swings. When the chain is thoroughly twisted, she lifts her legs up, and spins wildly. Her hair, long and golden, seems to be the wind surrounding her, and encases her in a yellow-gold light, like an aura. When she is done spinning she lets a soft laugh, musical it is, slip from in between two plump red lips, with some kind of shade put on them to enhance their softness. Her piercing blue eyes, looked at my soul. I looked into her smoldering stare and noticed two things. The first was that her eyeshad depth. Too much depth. The second was that when I saw my face, I was beautiful, but older somehow. This girl with the musical laugh, red plumpl lips, and deep blue eyes which I now took note had green and yellow flecks around the edges looked to be around twenty-three, but I looked twenty-five or twenty-eight. I wa gorgeous, though she was far for breathtaking. I held her gaze and went to sit beside her on the swings. I dusted some stray leaves and dirt off of the empty seat, and sat down. I try to talk to her, but the same thin happens every time.
"Hello," I say, and put ot my hand to shake. "I'm Cara. What is your name?"
She looks at me with so much pain in her eyes, that I start to cry, and then I wake up crying and lying in the fetal position. I have named her Laura--Laura Chim. I don't know why, but she reminds me of someone that would be named Laura Chim, so I call these the Laura Chim Dreams.
"And again I dream of Manderly...''
I thought of the quote I had read long ago in hig school, and couldn't remember the name.
"Ahh, It'll come to me later." I said. Then I said, "Laura, where are you?"
One good thing to come out of my dream-like state of life was that my social-life had gone to shit. With that, my academics had skyrocketed. My GPA was 4.0 in my second year of community college. I was about to do my transfer so I could go to university to become...what had I chosen to do with my life? I couldn't remember. Oh well. I looked across the courtyard at the playground of the preschool/daycare for the women and men who came to this college that had children. They took care of them for free there, so it was a godsend for people who were strapped for cash. The swings swung idly and a beautifl girl with black shaggy hair and skin as pale as a vampire's was playing in the sandbox with a two year old. I was captivated by her familiar beauty.
I gazed at her, for what seemed like at least an hour, and drowsily lumbered toward her. When I got to the fence, I grabbed on to it hard enough to make my hands ache, and beg for just a moments rest. I knew this girl. It was Mitchie. I had an achey feeling in my stomach and felt a cold tangy fluid fill my mouth. I spit it out, and all that came was a little white pellet, like when you spit on a hot day, except it was sixty degrees outside. I whispered shakily, "Mitchie. Mitchie, I...Wow, your beautiful." but she didn't hear me. I couldn't breathe. I was gasping, and my vision faded to blackness. I felt something hard under me, and I lost conciousness. I woke up in a hospital bed, and I smelled Vanilla-Vamille in the room, I was smothered with it. I smiled weakly.
"Mitchie?....Mitchie, are you there?" I said harshly, my throat scratchy and dry.
"Yes sweetie? What's wrong? Do you need water? Here." She said it quickly, way too rushed with worry, and came over with a bottle of the only bottled water I will drink. She looked eighteen again, like we were in our senior year of high school, like when we started dating.
"What's that about? You remembered my water? And your calling me sweetie?" I smiled. "Things are back to normal?"
"What do you mean back to normal? You passed out outside my window, so I drove you to the hospital. Are you okay? NURSE!" She looked luminous and young. Glowing with affection for me.
A male nurse rushed into the room, and I put my head back onto the pillow and I drifted off again.
I drifted in and out of consiousness for a few days. Sometimes Mitchie was there, sometimes she wasn't. I didn't see my mom the whole time. I was really foggy headed and I was disoriented. When Mitchie was there she was sitting in a folding chair set up in the corner. We had a total of two conversations. I asked her exactly what happened in the first.
"What is it Cara?" She made sure to reply with enough concern and worry to melt my heart.
"Wha...What happened before I blacked out?" I tried to talk with a steadiness to my voice, but it just sounded shaky and weak.
"Well, if you remember, my parents found out about us. You and I. And well, you know they didn't approve." She started out sighing and increasingly saddened. Her glow started to fade, the longer she went on. After she got done telling the story, I asked her, "So I blacked because you...you...you broke up with me?" I hadn't even remembered that.
"Yes sweetie, but seeing you hurt like this, I couldn't do it. I told my parents that if they didn't accept me, they didn't have a daughter, I packed up my stuff and left. I took the 'Family Fund' and as soon as you get out of here, and stop making me worry about you twenty-four seven, I'm going to rent a room in a motel or something until I get a job. I think I have four thousand dollars, but I'm not sure. I haven't counted it yet."
I was crying silently, those large globular tears that you would think only children could cry. She did all of this for me? I wasn't worth any of it. I was just Cara. The girl that blacks out when people break up with her. The girl that gives people bruises via their own parents. The girl that likes girls. A black girl that smells like cinnamon. An ordinary person. I was just Cara.
"I....I, Love...You..." The end of the last word I spoke droned into a sigh, or a whisper,and the last thing I heard was Mitchie...My Mitchie, saying "I love you too hun. Get some rest. I'll be here. Always. Always."
After I was staying awake at noral hours, they kept me in the hospital a few more days...just to be sure everything was alright. Of course Mitchie, my Mitchie was there the whole time. Waiting, watching, seeming to be carved in stone. She hardly spoke the whole time we were there. When Amma came in while I was awake, and Mitchie wasn't there I struck up a conversation.
"Mom, remember when I asked if Mitchie could live with us for little while? Is that still valid?"
"How many times do I have to tell you darling. Mom sounds so oppressive and old fashoined. I'm Amma. But yes, it's still valid. I'd say its reasonable considering she drove you to the hospital." She smiled. Amma really likes Mitchie.
"Oh god Mo--Amma, thank you so much! Mitchie was actually going to live in a motel! She has money, and I think she is going to put it in an account. She won't mooch. I know how you hate moochers."
She laughed a bit. "Moochers are okay if they are nice and sweet like Mitchie hun. Now get some rest. Your being discharged in a couple of days, and I want you and Mitchie to be energetic when you come home."
I decided she was right, and drifted to sleep. I dreamt of Vanilla-Vanille, pale skin, and black hair that night.
The next day, I was allowed to stand and walk to the bathroom. It was lovely not having a bedpan as your best friend. I also got to take a shower for the first time in god knows how long.
I stumbled as I walked past my bed, until Mitchie got up and grabbed me. My leg muscles apparently had deteriorated to a degree. I was wobbly, like a childs toy on Christmas morning, but I didn't care. I wanted my long deserved shower. But apparently I wasn't allowed that either. I had to settle for a bath. Mitchie helped me undress and eased me into the tub of water. I tried to be modest, but she didn't seem to mind. My mother laughed at us, calling us lovebirds, and other silly names. My bath was warm and bubbly. Enough bubbles so that my chest was hidden enough I could ask Mitchie to stay and chat with me.
So, that is the first 16 chapters of my book Steam, Sunshine, and Roses. Do You Like it? I'm trying to get published. Wish me LUCK!