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pbandjesse · 4 years

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I feel like today was a lost day but I know it actually wasnt. It just felt like a weird day. And I just had a guy I used to work with at ships come on my facebook and make me upset. But I unfriended him so whatever. He's just the type to like. Keep going. Like Im half expecting an email from him. Lets home not.

I slept okay last night. And I woke up around 9 feeling okay. I just laid in bed for a long time playing on my phone. But eventually I did get up and I did make the bed and I did go get a shower and washed my hair. Made me feel a lot better about myself.

I sat with James and he read and then went to go do laundry. Somehow he fills our entire laundry and I have like 4 things in there. I dont understand how he makes so much laundry but he is working in a kitchen so it makes some sense.

We had a nice morning. I had some of the leftover pizza. But I was unsettled. I changed my outfit like 5 times. I just couldnt get comfortable. James called the bike shop and my bike was ready to pick up. So it was decided we would walk there and then go to the BMA because they had a bunch of goats eating the overgrown hill. A program they have called "Goats on the Slope" incredible.

It was chilly today. Like surprisingly so. I knew it was going to be a little rainy so I brought a raincoat but I ended up wearing it because I was cold more than anything. But it was a nice walk.

We ran into Mr Will and he said he's going to come by tomorrow to check out a weird thing in our bathroom closet. It wasnt to bad of a walk. I thought we had to go a differnt way but James showed me a secret staircase and we were there quickly.

We waited outside, as no one is allowed in the shop. There were two other people there. The one got his son's bike quickly. The other was a woman and they came out and said they had bad news, they had realized one of the spokes on her bike wasnt fixed correctly. And she was like oh thank god I thought you were going to say you threw my bike away. That made me laugh.

My bike was ready though! I havent ridden my bike since basically feburary. So I was a little nervous about my stamina but it ended up being fine. Well not as bad as it could have been.

We left and biked up to the museum. I had to stop once because my breaks were rubbing and I was like fighting my bike. But we sorted it out and that was fine. I did scream at a driver who decided it didnt matter that I had a green light. But soon enough we made it to the park.

I was very out of breath though. I was overheated and shaking. I was uncomfortable. I had to sit down.

James took our bikes and I went and sat on the stairs for a few minutes and drank some water. But man. I was uncomfortable. It was scary hyperventilating like that. I do not do well with hills.

But once I was calmed down We walked over to see the goats. They were very cute. I hope to go back before they leave and I hope they are all eating the brush and having a great time. Only 2 goats were out of their little trailer. But I was glad we still went.

James still had an hour until he had to be at work. I asked to go down to the bottom of the hill, I wanted to see how much brush the goats needed to eat. And so we did that. We got in a little argument about our ballots. Because I feel overwhelmed by it and I have asked for help but he just keeps telling me to fill it out and that isnt helpful! But finally I just said that this conversation was not helpful and we would table it. I didnt want to be upset.

We sat on a wall and I enjoyed looking at the park. We talked for a while. And James said we had time to walk him to work if we left then. He would even have time to get a sandwich and a coffee. So off we went.

It was a nice walk. Long but wasnt bad. I like that part of town. It is amazing to me how different the different neighborhoods are here. Its super redlined and generationally influenced. And Hopkins is a huge influence on the neighborhoods they occupy. And there is a lot of nature is that part of town.

It was a nice walk. And soon we were in Hampden. I held our bikes while he went in Royal Farms and I people watched for a while. I thought about going to get a thai tea but the idea of going inside a cafe didnt feel good. I dont know why. Maybe next time.

I said goodbye to James once we got to the restaurant. And off I went. I was happy to bike. I had a podcast. I was in a good mood.

I followed the jones falls trail and its such a nice little path by the water. It reminds me of penny pack. I ended up parking my bike w Ihen I saw this bridge (James called it Hippy bridge when I texted him about it) that the fence was tore down on and was covered in graffiti. I climbed down the hill and sat on it high above the water. It was neat. I hope I can get myself to go on more adventures like that.

I took my time getting home. I stopped at a bench before a big hill. Took my time. Got home in one piece.

I took a break when I got back here. I was overheated from the biking. But once I cooled down I felt a lot better. I chilled for a while. Laid with sweetP and read. But eventually I decided I wanted to go for a drive.

I saw hi to Kimberly in the hall. And then drove out to Target. Lots of terrible drivers. It was rush hour I guess but people were just so mad they had to wait and kept trying to go around people? Obnoxious. I just enjoyed the drive.

I went to target. Enjoyed wandering around. Picked up a few things. Got poptarts that are cinnamon pretzel flavored. So fancy.

After I finished there I went to the art store to buy spray paint. To paint my bike. But I knew that was going to be a production.

I had five guys. It was fine. But I have had five guys way to often lately. So I think I will be taking a break from that. But I sat in the car and ate and watched the sun set. Saw someone throw a cup out of their window. Terrible trashy behavior. I hate people who litter. Especially from their car. You are going to go somewhere with a trash can!! What is wrong with you!!!

I headed home after that. And then the sun was down and I was like. Very Unmotivated. But then someone upset me on facebook so to distract myself I started stripping the paint off my bike.

This took forever. And honestly I could do more. But I worked on it for 2 hours. I used a blade and there are so many layers. My bike is so fat. But it was fun doing the work. I hope to paint it tomorrow but I think its going to have weird lumps. Well see how it goes.

I have been hanging out since I finished cleaning up all the paint and trash. I just washed my face and had one of those poptarts. I think I am going to drink water and wait for James. I am very much ready for sleep.

I hope you all have a good rest of the night. Take care of yourselves. Goodngiht.

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iamtheally-blog · 7 years

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The Little Girl Next Door

(buckle your seat belts because this is a long one)

When she was younger, they told her that someday, someone would walk in her shoes. They taught her that at least one person would feel the same pain and that someone would understand what was like for her to grow up alone with no one to lover her. Maybe then, the kids would play with her. Maybe then, the boys would stop the taunting and leave her alone as soon as she asked them to. Maybe then, the girls who she called friends would see how hurtful their words were. Maybe then they’d finally understand that no amount of makeup or clothes could cover the scar that was her skin.

Hope traveled through this little girl like a sugar rush to each limb. SHe believed that her mother would get better and stop smoking so much and that maybe her father would finally come home. They would hug each other in a room lit by the fireplace and plant a gentle kiss on each others lips. They would soon turn to their little girl lovingly and open their arms wide. She would run to them. They would picker her up, squeezing her into their embrace as she listened to both of their hearts beating into her ears. She had faith in her happiness and that one day all would be well.

When she became a teenager, her mother’s condition worsened. She had learned it was cancer. For months, she cried herself to sleep. Her schooling became more stressful and her grades began to slip from all the pressure. Her teachers started to call her unmotivated and punished her for being distracted. How could they possibly know what happened in this poor girl's life? How could they possibly know that she honestly can’t help it? She was so young and afraid, barely getting enough to eat on a daily basis. As soon as, her school day was finished, she would always rush to see her mother and sit at her side.

Unmotivated. I’m sure.

Her mother gradually got worse. She became frail and her bones turned brittle. Her fair fell out in clumps every time her daughter brought a comb through it. Her body thinned and her cheeks soon began to sink in. This little girl, so timid and fragile, would sob onto the her mother's bed everyday praying to some force of God that her mother's condition would improve. She prayed that her mother wouldn't have to leave her little girl. Of course, at all odds, her mother did not show signs of improvement. She developed stage four lung cancer. The tumours were huge. This girl was afraid. She feared that she’d become homeless fore she had not the money to pay for herself or her mother. It also was not likely that her father would crawl out of the slums and become the hero she always wanted to be. He was probably knee deep in liquor and doped up on oxycodone. All of that hope from years before had vanished completely. It left her in the midst of only a few months.

It was her sixteenth birthday. Her situation seemed to be taking a turn for the better. Her grandparents finally were able to put together enough money to move to her hometown. Her grandfather was able to move his office and her grandmother took a job as cashier at the local grocery market. Maybe, just maybe, she was going to be alright and everything was going to get better. Her mother seemed to perk up every so often. Sometimes she’d even be able to speak. More specifically, she was able to recognize her daughter and express her love. The once fragile girl was now filled with some hope. She hoped that money would stop being so tight. She too had a job. Hell, maybe she’d be able to eat enough again.

At school, however, the days only got worse. Her counselors began to coach her one college and getting her grades up.They badgered her about each failed assignment and how she would never get into the college of her choice is she didn’t have a high enough GPA or SAT score. Her dream school became less of a dream and more of a distant thought that never bounced around her thought more than twice. Her eyes were always glossed over when they talked to her. They were supposed to help and they didn't. It doesn’t matter, they must only pretend to care. They knew nothing of this girl's life. Every word spoke to her in the halls or in the classroom was littered with assumptions and false accusation. No wonder she no longer cared.

“God, don’t you eat?” The would spit at her. “Stop being an attention whore. That’s what all you anorexics are. Attention. Seekers. You’re no different.”

She’d run away crying. They would stare and laugh. Little did they know that she family had no money. There was no budget for food anymore. Every last penny was out toward her mother's health and treatment. It was a horrible situation and she was teased for it but she loved her mother so dearly. She endured and was stronger than ever. Could they not see her sacrifices?

The little girl was now eighteen. Life had barreled into her at full force and not one ceased fire. She was numb. Completely numb. The funeral was soon to happen. It was a cold day of course. The ground had frosted one last time and the air nipped at any showing skin. The air was damp and the clouds became a blockade against the sun. A few people showed up and stood under umbrellas as it had began to rain. The little cried at her mother's grave. Her sobs so forceful that her throat became raw; her voice hoarse. The people kept telling her how sorry they were.

“You’re mother was a valiant fighter,”

“Thanks,” she’d mumble back.

“She was dealt a bad hand,”

No kidding.

Some student showed. None she knew. They all stared and whispered. They were sure to keep their distance. They were likely the same kids who would bully her when she was little. She wanted so badly for them to walk in her shoes; to feel her pain. Why was life so cruel and unfair? Why are the bad rewarded and good forgotten? What did she so wrong?

High school graduation was a miracle. Luckily, she was able to turn her grades around. She believed it was what her mother wanted of her. Smart, kind, loyal, loving. As expected, she was still sad. Her mother was supposed to be here to witness this fine moment in her daughter life. She was supposed to fix her cap because it was crooked and protect er from the girls who teased her anorexia and depression. Even the boys were awful. They had no sympathy and only wanted to appease their horny needs. They played nice only to see her. As numb as she still was, everything still hurt. Each word stung like a wasp. I couldn't tell you how she found the stamina to run up there, smile for a quick picture, then run off. She went missing after she went on the stage. I for one, became determined to find her.

This little girl didn't deserve this.

This morning, I found her. A note was spray painted on the pavement leading up to her house. The words showed so much pain. You could tell she was devastated. I could almost hear her voice breaking in my mind. An arrow pointed to an open door. Naturally, I walked in, curious to see what she had planned. She had sprinkled dandelions all around the steps. The layout of her house was indistinguishable to mine. Another arrow pointed to the end of the hall. On the door, “I love you, mom” was painted in big white letters. Roses were taped to the frame. I pushed the door open to find a queen size bed adorn with petals of all sorts. On the night stand was a final written note explaining all her pain and what she went through. How I wish I would have said something. It touched on things even I didn't witness. She was so alone.

Finally, I noticed a lock of her hair poking out of the covers. It was then I knew.

She was forever in a peaceful sleep.

#TW: sucide mention #writerscreed #TW: death #short story

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