"I think a writer’s life is consistently mingled with fact and fiction. Some, all, or none of this may be related, in full or partial fashion, to personal experience."
--Brittany W. My friend and fellow co-worker.
I actually don't like your dogs. I think they're ugly. They're fat. Stinky. Greedy and needy. Spoiled and rotten. Perhaps they are former English kings reincarnated to four legged beings. They come towards me and I push them away. Rather be a bitch than hug a freak.
I come in here and don't like anything. Your cousin is talks too much about shit I could care less about. Depressing things. Things that would be featured on page six. She's a Debbie Downer, my mood instantly goes from a five to a negative one million when I am around her. Your dad is much rather abusive. A chauvinist pig who cares more about the breasts and vodka he touches than the love of his own family.
I prance around, but really I want to hide. I am just a shadow to them and they are just a gust of wind to me.
Your brother, where did he come from? Annoyance and elite. Possibly from the 1% - where I come from the 99%. He believes that the masterpiece, the Catcher in the Rye, sucks. Well, I think he sucks. Long mane and a flabby body. Who needs him. Go back to Oklahoma and stay there.
I start my senior year at a school that costs roughly $42,000. Do I pay that much? Hell no. I don't have a mom or dad. I live with my aunt in an upstairs apartment on Main Street. Thus, get almost free tuition. I am the Treasurer of my student government and while the job is a complete pain in the ass, I am around lovely people. The president is too smart for words and sometimes, I am enamored by him. I am in awe of his brilliance, his witty comments and I never laughed so hard in my life when I am around him. He was engaged to his high school sweetheart. Though, I went to a party and we ended up having sex. The sex wasn't good, but it was like having sex with a famous person. Til this day, his fiance/girlfriend/whatever does not know. He told me that she would probably kill herself if she found out the truth. He was Bruce Wayne and I'm just a nothing. I never thought of it. It still kills me to think that I exposed myself. But, it was dark anyways.
I am someone who is looking to be saved.
I am still single and I'm okay with that. I was dating someone for years, since I was 14. I met him while vacationing in Martha's Vineyard. My aunt's boyfriend is a security guard there. He was very loud and ambitious. I'm just quiet and have no idea what my place is in life. He hit me a couple times. I still have scars from the various incidents. I don't know why I stayed with him for so long. I think it's because of the great sex we had. Perhaps my passion was actually fake. Perhaps I should try to become an actress, but the sex was just to die for. It was better than chocolate. He took me places here and there, paid for extravagant trips. When I heard him spoke, I was somewhat in awe. Though, I had nothing to contribute. Just an argument. Just an "Oh." I knew from the start, I wasn't good enough.
Throughout the relationship, I started to become different. I didn't focus on anything else but him. I was almost a slave. He was a disease. Incurable. Fatal. I died every moment I was with him. Like water, I just couldn't live with him. I hated his family. His family hated me. I was just a girl who had nothing to offer. If there was a problem between us, I would just seduce him. It did the trick. I ended up forgetting about how he hit me. How he belittled me in front of his friend and my siblings.
That same night, I cried in my bathroom. My eyes were puffy and most definitely cloudy. I looked at the bright red razor that was in the bathtub. I moved it towards my wrist and pressed hard. Little bits of blood were blaring up my skin. I was sicken by the sight of my own blood. But felt this sort of redemption. The more I did it, the more emotional pain that was going to go away. I kept on doing it until my whole left arm was covered in blood. I was soon dizzy. I could only see the orange walls of my bathroom, everything else felt too far away. I passed out from the extreme loss of blood.
My aunt's friend's son found me - drowning in my own pool of blood. The white dress I wore to impress him, gone. I woke up and I was in the hospital. I later had to go to a psychiatrist. My treasurer days were over. My friends from student government visited me. The president was the first. He kissed my forehead and told me that he would never leave me out of his sight. My friends told me to leave my boyfriend. He was the reason why I became so suicidal. I was a changed person for all of eternity. The only way out of this mess was to die. And I couldn't even die so easily.
He came and visited me. I could see the anger in his eyes. He was afraid of me. He looked at me and asked why. Why I had to hurt myself. I couldn't bare to tell him the truth. The truth in how much I am emotionally and physically invested in him - his soul. I didn't know how long I was going to live. I told him the truth. He told me he wanted to marry me. I thought about the various suicide attempts. The reason why I am in this hospital in the first place was because of him. I gave up everything to be with him. Yet, he gave nothing in return. Just monetary gifts and his penis. The words "Will you Marry Me?" gave an ache in my body. I couldn't be with him. We were opposites. I gave up my life, quite literally.
I was still in the hospital bed. It was just him and me. I need to run away from this. I said, "I'm Sorry" and took the IV out of my arm and ran. I was barefoot. I just ran. I still had my bloody white dress on. The run was so amazing. Nothing is more exhilarating for a human - to run away from the existence of sorrow and create your own joys and follow the beat of your own drum. I kept on running, not turning back.
I ran away from the man I was a slave to. I stopped at a forest. I spent my childhood walking through forests. My mom took me when I was younger - she was big on nature. She was a journalist and would often walk through the streets of New York, her hometown, and had a black notebook and would write. She died in Africa. She caught a stomach virus and had to have her leg amputated. She never became happy. Died by her own passion. Dwindling by fire.
At the forest, I saw a creek. Oh the memories playing at a creek. Those memories were absolutely beautiful. I wrote. I loved. I enjoyed every moment. The waters were beautiful. Deep blue. Moss. Greens. I was in awe. My eyes circled the surroundings. I could feel the warm of the sun hit my face - my body flooded with happy feelings. Feelings of being safe and loved. I guess the sun loved me in ways that my so-called boyfriend never did. As I was looking around the forest, I saw red drops around the leaves under my feet. I looked at my hands, they were covered in blood.
I was still bleeding.
I jumped in the creek and tried cleaning myself - trying to rid the blood away. It was no use. My breath was shortening. It felt like a cottage felt on top of my chest. Breathing felt like a chore. It was so essential, yet I dreaded it. I was hurting. I thought I dropped my glasses down the murkiness of my blood that evaded the creek. I still had my glasses on. Everything was blurry. I could only see the sun and the tops of the trees. The creek wasn't deep enough, but it felt like I was drowning in an ocean. I was so weak, I couldn't even stand up properly. My breath was shortening and so was my heart. I knew at this instant, as I see the blood completely damage my dress and decorate the water around me, my 20 years of existence was coming to a close.
I tried standing. My eyes were teary. I didn't want to scream for help. What was the point? I knew I had to leave this world to rid myself of the constant hurt from him. The tenacious feeling of hopelessness. I wanted to be loved. I wanted to be wanted. I wanted my presence to be noticed. I guess I didn't have to worry or hurt anymore.
Now, all I could see was the rays of light that gently pressed my eyes. My blood enveloped my dress and the creek. The water never felt so beautiful, so warm, like a hug that I've always wanted but never received. I was immersed in the beauties of nature.
What a great way to go.
