21.11.10

Teaser...Sunday?

I feel like I'm neglecting my blog...and it feels like it's going to be a while until I can write an actual blog post.

To make up for my absence, here's a teaser from something I wrote a week or so ago. It's a project that I hope to continue after my life settles down.

I'll talk about it more someday, but for now...enjoy.

I was lying in a bed of roses when my aunt found me. It took a moment for my eyes to finally unglue themselves, but when I finally got a chance to take in my surroundings I silently rejoiced, glad that I didn't wake up near a dumpster or worse, a storefront. Even so, I'd rather deal with a complete stranger, than my aunt whose glare sent shivers down my aching spine.
"Get up," she growled. "You're ruining my garden."
"I'm..." I clenched my teeth to keep from screaming, as I tried to sit up. This wasn't the first time this has happened, but it was the first time I woke up in excruciating pain. It felt like I got hit by a car or something.
"People are going to be getting up soon. Do you want them to see you like this?" I looked down at myself. Dirt was caked on my skin, along with dried blood and some sort of thick, white gunk. Then there was the fact that I was naked.
My cheeks flushed.
There was a boy who lived next door who always took out the garbage at this time of day. I should know because I watch him through the slits in my blinds every morning wishing I knew his name, wishing that he knew mine.
But right now, he doesn't even know that I exist. I'm just a girl in a room on the third floor.
A part of me wants to pass out from the pain that spiderwebs through my body, as I get to my feet. I can hear my bones rattling, my blood sizzling, the creature inside of me settling. It's growls are no more, and the soft tune that usually plays before I black out, is no more. Now, it's just me and my aunt, who is wrapping a white sheet around my shivering body.
"Next time try to wake up on the porch or better yet in the backyard, where no one can see you."
"Okay." I can't begin to count how many times I have to tell my aunt that I can't control where I wake up at. I can't even control how often I black out or for how long.
It just happens.
My legs wobble, my toes sink into the soil, the skin on the bottom of my feet burns as we move across the pavement, up the porch steps, and into the house.
Safe.
Hidden from the world.
"Thanks," I said, turning toward my aunt who is looking at me with her tawny gray eyes, trying to be her usually stern self, but failing miserably. There is something strange glittering in her eyes, something that can only be called fear or better yet, worry.
My aunt is worried about me.
She has been so since I was dropped on her doorstep.
Homeless, parentless, alive.
"Yeah, sure." Her voice shakes, it quivers. She's scared. I know it. She knows but she won't admit it. "Look, don't just stand there. Go take a shower or something. You smell."
My nostrils flared. I couldn't really figure out the scent, but it did smell really bad, like I was playing in the sewer or something.
I wouldn't be surprised.
Pulling the sheet tighter around my body, I ambled towards the staircase, feeling every step I took, and every breath that left my body.
I would give anything to be a normal girl, one who had friends, one who had a boyfriend that looked just like the boy next door, one who didn't black out only to wake up in strange places.
Normal.

2 comments:

  1. Your writing is sooo good. Just this little bit has me asking for more, more, more...

    ReplyDelete
  2. Good job! That was very tantalizing.

    ReplyDelete