Why am I so sad? It’s like the tears have their own agenda. They know what I can’t tell myself and they’re taking the pain I refuse to feel with them. I can’t stop these tears, whatever was holding them back is gone and now all there’s two streams running down my face and trickling off of my chin. These tears are determined to escape and I’m helpless to stop them. I can’t do anything but cry for these unknown causes or do I know what I’m crying for and I’m just too pained to acknowledge it. I’m hiding in the bathroom sitting on the toilet running water in the sink so that he doesn’t here the sobs I’m helpless to stop. I cry and sob and after a couple minutes they’ve calmed enough that I wipe my tears and return to my living room. As soon as I get down the stairs and Asher sees me. He knows. “What’s wrong?” He asks “Nothing” I say. I try to move past him and reclaim my spot on the couch but he grabs me before I can sit. “Marley, what’s wrong?” He asks again. I look into his eyes but I can’t answer him. How can I tell him what’s wrong when I, myself do not even know? “Nothing” I say again and lay my head on his shoulder. I shouldn’t have done that. As soon as my head comfortably rests against his shoulders my eyes flood, the streams start, and the trickling begins.
Showing posts with label short story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label short story. Show all posts
June 7, 2012
Marley and Asher
This is something I started today. Unsure what I want to do with it but I like where it's going.
Why am I so sad? It’s like the tears have their own agenda. They know what I can’t tell myself and they’re taking the pain I refuse to feel with them. I can’t stop these tears, whatever was holding them back is gone and now all there’s two streams running down my face and trickling off of my chin. These tears are determined to escape and I’m helpless to stop them. I can’t do anything but cry for these unknown causes or do I know what I’m crying for and I’m just too pained to acknowledge it. I’m hiding in the bathroom sitting on the toilet running water in the sink so that he doesn’t here the sobs I’m helpless to stop. I cry and sob and after a couple minutes they’ve calmed enough that I wipe my tears and return to my living room. As soon as I get down the stairs and Asher sees me. He knows. “What’s wrong?” He asks “Nothing” I say. I try to move past him and reclaim my spot on the couch but he grabs me before I can sit. “Marley, what’s wrong?” He asks again. I look into his eyes but I can’t answer him. How can I tell him what’s wrong when I, myself do not even know? “Nothing” I say again and lay my head on his shoulder. I shouldn’t have done that. As soon as my head comfortably rests against his shoulders my eyes flood, the streams start, and the trickling begins.
Why am I so sad? It’s like the tears have their own agenda. They know what I can’t tell myself and they’re taking the pain I refuse to feel with them. I can’t stop these tears, whatever was holding them back is gone and now all there’s two streams running down my face and trickling off of my chin. These tears are determined to escape and I’m helpless to stop them. I can’t do anything but cry for these unknown causes or do I know what I’m crying for and I’m just too pained to acknowledge it. I’m hiding in the bathroom sitting on the toilet running water in the sink so that he doesn’t here the sobs I’m helpless to stop. I cry and sob and after a couple minutes they’ve calmed enough that I wipe my tears and return to my living room. As soon as I get down the stairs and Asher sees me. He knows. “What’s wrong?” He asks “Nothing” I say. I try to move past him and reclaim my spot on the couch but he grabs me before I can sit. “Marley, what’s wrong?” He asks again. I look into his eyes but I can’t answer him. How can I tell him what’s wrong when I, myself do not even know? “Nothing” I say again and lay my head on his shoulder. I shouldn’t have done that. As soon as my head comfortably rests against his shoulders my eyes flood, the streams start, and the trickling begins.
April 14, 2012
Something I'm working on
This doesn't have a title yet but it's something I'm working on.
Last summer I finally got my mom to pay attention to me. It only took 20 years and some wild nights. It wasn’t my intention at the time to get her to notice, I thought I was partying because it was fun not a cry for attention. I stopped doing that when I was around six and I got beat in the tub for it. After that I was very selective about the times I cried. It’s not until I think about my life that I realize my actions were for a reason and not the reason I intended in the first place. I’m not sure of the exact event that all this stems from, it could be the abuse or the neglect. I never thought any of it affected me. I thought I was the exception to these rules. I figured since I was so young when it happened that it didn’t matter. I thought I could be normal. Whatever that meant, it’s not until I’m in a relationship that I question why I am the way I am. I never noticed how distant I could be. It never dawned on me that I don’t have friends because of events that made me distrust them. I was hoping that I didn’t have to deal with those unanswered questions I had. When I was around six years old I was being molested by my brother’s dad. At the time I thought he was my dad and I didn’t know what was going on. All I knew was it made me feel weird and it felt wrong and that I needed to tell my mom. I tried to tell her for a long time but I never could because he was always around. I think he knew that I would tell. He didn’t threaten me to be quiet at first he tried to tell me to keep our secret. I was Queen Tattletale as a kid though and I ratted everyone out. I still can’t believe that was me. I was that little girl with my dolly and my pig tails. I guess that’s why I killed all my dolls after that. Nobody protected me from him, my mom left him home to watch me, and my brother was just clueless because in his eyes his dad could do no wrong. I was the monster once I released the secret.
Last summer I finally got my mom to pay attention to me. It only took 20 years and some wild nights. It wasn’t my intention at the time to get her to notice, I thought I was partying because it was fun not a cry for attention. I stopped doing that when I was around six and I got beat in the tub for it. After that I was very selective about the times I cried. It’s not until I think about my life that I realize my actions were for a reason and not the reason I intended in the first place. I’m not sure of the exact event that all this stems from, it could be the abuse or the neglect. I never thought any of it affected me. I thought I was the exception to these rules. I figured since I was so young when it happened that it didn’t matter. I thought I could be normal. Whatever that meant, it’s not until I’m in a relationship that I question why I am the way I am. I never noticed how distant I could be. It never dawned on me that I don’t have friends because of events that made me distrust them. I was hoping that I didn’t have to deal with those unanswered questions I had. When I was around six years old I was being molested by my brother’s dad. At the time I thought he was my dad and I didn’t know what was going on. All I knew was it made me feel weird and it felt wrong and that I needed to tell my mom. I tried to tell her for a long time but I never could because he was always around. I think he knew that I would tell. He didn’t threaten me to be quiet at first he tried to tell me to keep our secret. I was Queen Tattletale as a kid though and I ratted everyone out. I still can’t believe that was me. I was that little girl with my dolly and my pig tails. I guess that’s why I killed all my dolls after that. Nobody protected me from him, my mom left him home to watch me, and my brother was just clueless because in his eyes his dad could do no wrong. I was the monster once I released the secret.
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