Something I miss being is a woman in love. There was a time in my life I was this person. I mean madly to the point when I shut everyone out. I desperately miss her though but maybe she should help me get through this emptiness. I know she’s dead but she would want happiness for everyone else. I feel I am the least qualified to offer love advice. Perhaps I dream of her sometimes. She’s there watching the inevitable conclusion.
I wait for him to climb on top of me. Sometime I want it to be quick and I try my best to end the session because I don’t have that passion. Now I am afraid the only way I can perform is if I am drunk. The girl in love used to initiate the love making and felt no shame in expressing it. Don’t get me wrong sex is never shameful but this became a chore. Especially when he uses innuendo.
Where was this honesty when he triple timed me? I forgot who said honesty becomes the past and lies become the future. Don’t quote me on it. I understand the woman in love would have hope that her relationship would be better than great in 2017. She would make sure she is always perfection when she knows her man is coming over. Keep her hands on him. To touch to feel his energy when she goes to hug him. To fill the silence with deep conversation. To get close. I question his motives now. When he touches me and I feel it’s foreign. I no longer want to learn how to be warm and fuzzy. I hold back. Kiss and make out with him as he were giving her the breath of life. The Woman in love would miss him now even though she knows he will be by her side tonight. This shattered broken woman doesn’t know of these things. She prefers to do what feels right for her. To not look her best but keep her body fit. To avoid welcoming him with a kiss or ask that he call every once in a while and not just when things get heavy. Perhaps I am jumping to conclusions in thinking this will be permanent. The woman in love has turned into the wayward woman.
Her heart beat for the first time in nearly a decade. Why am I here? Dawn sees the expression of surprise on the nurse’s face. The woman hurriedly pages the doctor. The teen remembers that day. And the patient feels enormous pain when lifting her hand to touch her face. Dawn remembers the laughter and shouts and pictures the feet of rage that stomp her face.
It began as an uneventful day and a nudge from a friend turned it into reckless violence, she tried to defend the blows but there were too many of them. She struck two girls with her friends and one ripped out her braids before she fell. Their furious faces especially, the one she thought was her friend and believed had her back.
“Oh my God I knew you would come back to us,” her mom utters. in the doorway of the room, her parents look relieved and older. Much older. Her mother’s cheeks are sunken and her eyes appear vacant. Dark circles and lines surround them. Her father is now completely gray. Gray for days. The doctors enters the room. He shines a light in her stinging eyes. She is exhausted although her slumber has been long. She has wronged people. Been a cyberbully. Wrote on a classmate’s wall that her selfie is ugly. Told her group of friends to do the same thing. The mean girls picked a pretty girl to pick on each month. So she would be isolated. No one wanted to be nice to the outcast even though she was a likable person. She noticed the boys giving her stares especially the one Dawn liked so she had to be taken down a notch.
Dawn and her clique created a page devoted to bashing her. Spread vicious gossip that she had disease even though it was quite clear she was a virgin. One victim was depressed and threw herself in front of traffic. Now these deeds flooding through her head.
Her parents unaware of the trouble Dawn has caused. She had dreams of the harm she inflicted on those she tormented. She envisioned the sweet girl crying in her room and the living room where the mother was too consumed with her love life that she failed to notice her daughter’s despair. She remained confined in her room with her loyal black cat as her companion. He soothed her with his purrs. She did not feel alone in this world. The harsh words and pointed stares were forgotten.
For almost a decade her recurring dreams were the moments of intense pain at the height of her misdeeds. She relived the moment of the suicidal teen. When hope was lost and all that was left was the comfort of knowing there will be no more despair.
Dawn made sure she was quickly forgotten at that time for she found a new target to harass. Poor Starr was not forgotten by her family though. She was injected with their suffering of a girl gone too soon. She also saw her boyfriend move on with the girl who betrayed her. Her nightmare were repetitive series of retaliation.
She watched as they cuddled playing video games. Stolen kisses at the end of each round. After her hospitalization she was the hot topic for a week until a pregnancy was the newest gossip. It is revealed out the two were going behind her back longer than she expected and they are having a bundle of joy.
This girl now a woman is suddenly remorseful. She begins sobbing. Blubbering because she cannot possibly bear to explain to her parents. This travesty they mistake her crying for the physical pain instead of her reckless teenage years.
Andrea Smith: "I am a mother of two. I am a black woman living in Pennsylvania. I find my inspiration from writing prompts and real life events."