THis is about a bi girl, i know i know, if its gross don't read it. But its not just about the bi girl, her mom s goes crazy, and its very intresting:)
“Broken Wings Never Fly When Torn Apart.”
I used to sit down with my mom and talk by the pond in our back yard. We would sit crossed legged picking flowers, talking about books, school, friends, places to eat at, or shopping. We would talk about our crazy neighbor, Gloria, and her obsessions with vegetables and saving the earth. We would talk how stores would make a killing if they marked there prices down, and we talked about friends coming and going within our lives. These were the times that I glance back and wonder where did it go wrong? I try to see the warning signs, try to see any changes in her, but I don't discover much. I think the first sign is when she talked about my dad. You see, my dad abandoned us when I was about three months old for a young women that lives in California, leaving my mom to care for me alone. She took on three jobs to care for me: a waitress, a bartender, and she walked dogs in her spare time. Mom had nannies take care of me at night when she had to work, which than she had to pay them more.
Anyways, I was sitting by the pond watching the clouds take over a grayish color as the wind started to speed up with time. About 15 minuets after I saw lightning, my mom sat down beside me watching our reflections. When her eyes glazed at mine, I knew something was wrong. She threw a rock at the water, destroying my reflections, mumbling about how I look nothing like her. I asked her who did I look like?
With a disgusted look she said my father. I then asked her what was wrong with my father, and she did not respond to kindly. She told me he was a no-good- drunken-father, that is as nice as I can put her words to be appropriate for people to see. She told me he had an affair when they were together, and how he left us to be with some 24 year old. I could tell disdain took her soul, because as rain started to pour down and thunder started to disrupt the sky, mom started to cry uncontrollably...shaking. I remember being struck with sadness and fear...what was I supposed to do?
After that day mom became gloomy, spending time looking at a white wall, not going to work, not cleaning or making supper. I became her ghost, lying to people about how she is sick and can't go outside or answer the door. I was about 13 when she attempted suicide, she tried to cut her vein...but failed to cut deep enough to die. She was hospitalized and I got sent to live with my father in Wisconsin, that is where they moved to start out fresh. I don't see my mom, I can't handle the pressure, the sadness that could send me down a path like her.
“Old Wounds Never Heal When Salt Is Involved.”
“So, how is school?”
Looking up from my book, I see Lorie staring at me, trying to pass the time while my dad is at work. It is usually just Lorie and myself till 10:30 PM, but today my dad is getting off early, something about how he wants to spend “quality” time with us. Which, I am dreading, because I don't want to spend “quality” time with the guy who left me and the girl who was his reason to leave. I would rather drink sulfide than actually spend time with them, their the reason mom went crazy and snapped, it is all their fault.
Anyways, I can see why he fell for her; she has big brown eyes, blonde hair, a nice curvy body, and her lips are the perfect size. She would be a catch, if it weren't for her flaw of stealing dads away.
I look from my book and mumble it was good, hoping that she would leave me alone. But no, she than says that dad is taking us to a nice restaurant and she wants to help me find an outfit to wear. That is where I draw the line. I first of all do not like dressing up to other people's standards, and second of all, Lorie is not my mother, so she should stop trying to act like her.
I shake my head and go back to reading, ignoring her. She nods her head and leaves my room as she sniffles.
Dinner is how I thought it would be. Daddy and “mommy” both talked so happily while I sat there silent. If my mom were here we would probably go around sticking Chinese sticks up our noses or in our gums to look like a walrus. This is before mom went crazy. If we were at a restaurant when mom went crazy...wait that would never happen because when mom went crazy we went no where. I was trapped with a monster for 24 hours everyday while my dad sipped champagne with Lorie.
Anger fills me as I think about these thoughts as I watch them stare into each other eyes, mouthing how they love each other. Getting to the point of wanting to vomit the waiter comes to our table asking what we want to drink? They both ordered Sprite and I ordered Pepsi...they ordered ribs and I ordered Sweet n Sour Chicken. Were both different, well I am different. After the waiter leaves I sit there watching them kissing and laughing about how it's been along time since they went out. Blah, blah, blah, us, us, us. That is ALL they've been talking about!
Getting so fed up I scoff at them, “Why did you guys want me to come along if all you were going to do is ignore me?”
Obviously I took them off guard because they both look shocked. Both looking at each other, trying to search for an answer that I already know...they had no choice. But they did, I’m Sixteen, I can take care of myself.
Dad looks at me, trying to pick his words carefully, “Well, we thought you would want to come with us?”
“Why,” I snap sitting up in my chair, “so I can get ignored as both of you make googly eyes at each other while I sit here talking to no one?”
Both still shocked. Lorie tries to say something but I ignore her as I get up from the table, “You know what? I should be used to it, dad ignored me for 13 years. I think I can handle two hours or three hours of being alone. I'll give you two some privacy.”
With that I take a dramatic exit to the bathroom, where I kick the walls and the bathroom stall doors over and over. He always loved Lorie, and never me. He loved his job, but never me. He never loved me, and I don't think I will ever find someone to love me for me.....ever.
It's been a a month with them...a month of nothing. School is the same as before, only the school is smaller....everyone knows everyone. Which, I guess has some perks....very little, because everyone still knows all the trash you tried to throw away. Just a month here and I am already hearing rumors about how I attempted suicide, how my mom tried to murder me, or how I was on drugs. Of course none of what they said was true, but I didn't correct them. I will let them think what they want to because what I say won't change there opinion of me. I am named black sheep or a loner if you really want to get technical. I sit at a table during lunch with no one, I talk to no one, and I have no partner in any classes. Of course some people tried to talk to me, but I don't respond to there nagging questions.
“There's a letter on your bed.” Lorie tells me as I walk in the door from school. I don't respond as I pass her, walking by fast. Who would send me a letter? I mean, I have no other family who keeps in contact with me and I have no friends...so who? I contemplate this while I make my self a sandwich, pour myself juice, and walk up to my room. I open my white door slowly, taking small steps to my bed, and sat down my plate and juice on my vanity. I turn to my bed and pick up the letter....it's from my mom. I stop, frozen, speechless, angry, and sad. Sitting on my wooden floor, I read the letter.
How you are? I'm good I guess. I'm getting needles and more needles prodded into my skin leaving me bruises. I hope you still remember me? You never write, call, or visit me ever. I am still your mom! Do you remember sitting outside the pond talking about everything and anything. Do you remember walking with down a random garden and stealing flowers? I hope you remember all the good time. I hope you write or call. I know your father has the number of the place I am staying. So how is Lorie? His she nice? Do you call her mom yet? I have to go to bed soon, because family is coming tomorrow. Tell your father that when the next family visit arrives, he better bring you.
I love you,
Time stops when I’m done reading her letter. Anger fills me up, bursting through me as I take a glass vase and throw it against my wall. Shattering all the memories of my mom and me sitting by the pond. That was the place were I found my mom laying on her back unconscious with cuts on her wrist and arms. I remember crying, trying to shake her awake, but I couldn't. I ran to the phone and called 911. It took them 10 minuets to get to our house, leaving me with my unconscious mom for 10 minuets, letting hate fill me for 10 minutes and letting me cry for 10 minuets. By the time the cops came, I was shaking uncontrollably while sobbing. They took my mom away in an ambulance and told me to pack my stuff, because they were going to take me away from her.
I shake the memories away and get a dust pan from the kitchen to clean up the shattered glass. I don't understand how she can be mad at me? I didn't leave her? I didn't try to kill myself? I didn't only think about me like she did? I will not let her make me feel guilty for something SHE did. I didn’t make her swallow the pills, and I didn't make her feel sad.
It was all her.
“So, I hear your mom wrote you.” Dad says to me in a cautious voice entering the kitchen with coffee in his hand.
I nod my head, “Ya?”
“And I hear she wants you to go visit her?”
“Well, do you want to?”
That questions stops me in mid-making peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Do I? It's not much of do I, than it is can I handle it? I continue to make my sandwich giving him a shrug of the shoulders, dropping the subject. I don't think I could handle seeing her, seeing how happy she is without me, or how less stressful it is. No, I don't want to see her.
Finishing packing my lunch, and with a handle on the door to leave to school dad stops me with a statement, “You should write her. How would you feel if she never wrote you?”
I turn towards him with my hand still on the door knob, “How would you feel if you had to find your mom at the age of 13 unconscious from a suicide attempt. Than having someone tell you think about her feelings when she wanted to die and leave you all alone?”
I don't stay for his response. I shut the door and walk a block to the bus stop. How is everything MY fault? I'm pretty sure if a plague broke out or something deadly they would blame me. Why are you breathing Autum? How can you stand there and pretend to be alright? Why are you even living Autum?
“Dates mean everything if your trying to document how you feel. For a week, yes 7 days, even on the weekends, you have to keep a journal on how you feel. If you don't date it you fail the assignment. So,” Mrs. Lenguine smiles at us, “i want you to start a journal right now. Date it with, 12/2/11.”
The class groans with torture as we start to right. I don't groan, because I actually like English class. It's better math, science, or social studies.
This girl, Claire to my right starts to laugh at a note someone passed her. Clair is probably my only crush right now. Yes, yes, yes, I’m girl liking a girl, get it over it. Anyways, Clair is tall, has blonde hair, blue eyes, and a skinny body. Just for the record I don't just like skinny people or beautiful people, I like all kinds of people....it's the inside that matters. Claire seems like a nice person, I mean she is class president, year book helper, has straight A's, is on poms, is in forensics, solo ensemble, and she still goes to parties. Claire is basically the whole package, that was before now. I looked at her once...maybe twice to get a glimpse of her angel like hair, when she noticed.
“Can I help you?” She asks in a why-the-freak-are-you-looking-at-me-freak-of-nature manner.
Stunned, I smile, “I like your necklace.”
I stare at her, not moving my gaze, “Is it new?”
“Ya,” she drops her ice queen face and smiles, “ya, um, your the only that noticed. Who are you?”
Bingo. I have her attention now. She bites her lip and stares at me for an answer.
“Oh, your Autum?”
Ouch, that's a bad sign. When you hear “Oh, your________,” that is when you have to give up all hope. You should tap out and walk out of the ring, but that's not me. I'm a fighter and stubborn.
“All the rumors are wrong.” I inform her.
Claire twirls a strand of her long, blonde hair, “What rumors.”
I'm hooked, instantly. Her bubble gum flavored lip balm has leaked into my veins, taking me over. Her smile is addicting, and her eyes are hypnotizing.
Claire smiles as the bell rings, “Catch you later Autum.”
I sit there watching her leave...I’m a goner. Getting up I walk past people in the halls, some gossiping as I walk by, some laughing, or some just staring. I guess they haven't gotten over me yet I decide as I hear three different groups saying my name. I don't care, because I talked to her, I talked to Claire.
It's been a week since mom wrote me. I know this because she wrote me another letter with a date in the corner of the paper:
So, I talked to your dad. He says you don't want to write or see me...why? I'm stuck here and you there. I want to hear from you. What do you want from me? An apology? Fine, Autum I’m sorry for being sad or wanting to disappear. I'm sorry for being human. Is that what you want? I just want to hear how your doing.
I sit frozen crossed legged on the floor trying to breathe, trying not to suffocate. How is this my fault? How come everything I want to do or not do is wrong? Why am I even breathing?
Not realizing what I am doing, I punch my glass mirror and scream as it shatters to the floor.
I didn't realize Lorie was here until I hear her running up the stairs to my room.
“AUTUM! What's wrong?”
“GO AWAY!” I scream, getting a shirt and wrapping it around my knuckles.
“I will NOT go away, this is my house.”
“FINE! Come in.”
Seeing the door open I sit on the corner of my bed trying not to cry. Lorie's face falls as she stares at the broken mirror and my bloody knuckles. Shaking her head she walks back down stairs to get a dust pan to pick the glass up. I stay silent as she picks up my mess. I stay silent when she goes downstairs. I stay silent as she enters my room facing me.
“Let me see your hand.”
“No.” I shake my head and back away from her.
“I can take care of myself.”
She laughs, sitting on my bed, “Obviously. That's why you punched my mirror. That was my grandmothers mirror, it was old.”
“I can take care of myself. I did for 10 years already.” I shake my head and walk out of my room and roam the streets.
“What this means.”
I don't how I got here. I don't know what direction I walked in. I don't know how to get home. Walking down strange roads was fine until I realized I was lost and scared. Shaking off the feeling I spot someone sitting on a bridge over a lake. I didn't know they had lakes here.
As I reach the girl I stop, because I can hear her singing a song, “so listen when you feel your heart skip a beat/ you know hell behind your beautiful eyes/where just a falling star.”
Not knowing what to do I turn around and start to walk away.
“You know,” the girl says stopping me in my tracks, “all you have to do is ask me to stop.”
I watch her hop off the bridge and walk towards me. Instantly I am memorized by her uncanny beauty. She has black and brownish hair, brown eyes, wears red glasses, and has an hour glass body. She is not “skinny” but she's not “big,” she's perfect.
She must have been talking to me when I was staring at her, because she stops and looks at me.
“Well,” she laughs, “yes or no?”
“Yes or no for what?”
“Obviously you were in no-mans land. I asked if you were lost.”
Ya I am lost.
You know what, mommy and daddy never loved me. Never. Dad left me with my crazy mom, and mom wanted to leave me with no one. They were selfish people, and they wonder why I don't want to speak to them. Even when dad was home they fought. Dad was a drunk and mom nagged him all the time, they were never at peace. I had to watch them tare each other from limb to limb and to stitch each other together again. Peace at home was rare, even with mom I felt abandoned. Except at times when she was herself sitting by the pond with me. I liked rare moments of her being sane for a minuet.
Thinking about this I am preoccupied, and I think she noticed.
“So, that's your name?” I ask her.
“What's yours?” She shoots back at me.
“Well, Autum I am Winter.”
“Oh.” That's all I could say. I wish I could have been named Autum, that would be amazing, instead of Autum. Than again, my mom told me that the nurse basically named me. They couldn't decide on a name, so the nurse through out the name Autum, and how they needed to decide now. They went with Autum and that is the name I got.
Nearing my house I stop and turn towards her, “Thanks Winter for directions.”
“Directions,” she laughs, sending tingles down my body, “i basically escorted you to your house.”
“Well, thanks for the escort. See you around.”
“Ya,” Winter smiles as she walks away, “see ya.” I watch her until she is out of site, than walk into the empty house. The sun is just about to go down as I lay in my bed thinking. Hymen and ha-min about what to do to pass the time. About to fall sleep I picture my mom dying from suicide because I didn't write her. She is in her room talking to my dad when he tells her I don't want to talk to her. Mom getting upset says she wants dad to go. He leaves and mom sits on the edge of her bed crying about how she is so sorry. Not wanting to live, she takes a sheet from her bed and wraps the sheet around her neck tight. Mom ties one end of the sheet around a door knob and the other end of the sheet on another door knob. Then when she has the sheet tight around her neck and the door knob she falls back, but she doesn't fall on the floor because the sheet is holding her by her neck, strangling her. She doesn't fight as she stops breathing and dies. The nurses finds her dead from suicide.
That movie in my head is all I need to get the courage to write her. I grab a pen and paper and start to write.
So I’m finally writing you. There is nothing new and nothing old. There is nothing. You tired to leave me and die, how am I to forgive you? How am I to just to say mom I forgive you trying to get an easy way out? Did you think at me at all? Did you think about what happens to me when you die? No, you were selfish. I had to find you with the cuts on your arms. So what do you want me to say mom? Tell me.
P.S My new name is Snow. Since your didn't come up with the name and the nurse did, I want to change it.
I put the letter in the envelope, put a stamp on it, licked the envelope, and put it in the mailbox quickly before I changed my mind and ripped it up.
Written by Snow
Taking anybody under
who will let it,
Letting the river fill up
As I see the sun rise
and my tears fall,
I give up and let myself
sink with the river,
Rivers can kill you
and heal you
if you let it takes
and go with the
Do you ever whats happens when you fall off a building? What would the feel of falling feel like? What do you feel when your about to hit the ground? What does it feel to hit the ground? Would it hurt? Would you even feel it?
Contemplating this all I walk to school is like a dulling medicine. It gets me numb before I enter school to see all the peoples faces who all look the same. I wish it were different, I wish we could all express who we are without peoples looks. I want to be a bird, to fly in the sky, to not be afraid to fall. I am FALLING, FALLING, FALLING, FALLING, FALLING, FALLING, FALLIN...FALLING.
I am just about to crash when I hear Claire's voice enter my ear, “Hi Autum.”
Life starts to fill me as I take a whiff of her bubble gum aroma, “Hi Claire. How are you?”
“Good,” she smiles, “how about you?”
“Okay class,” Mrs. Lenguine tells us as she walks into the room carrying a box filled with something, “in this box is toys or old stuff. You need to either write a song, make a movie, write a poem, paint a picture, or draw something that intertwines with the item you get. Now, everyone come up to the box and pick put something.”
Out of all the items, I get a creepy porcelain doll. What can I make that deals with a porcelain doll?
I look over at what Claire got a sad mask. I look at her face and it matches her face right now.
“What,” I smile, “not what you wanted?”
“No,” she starts to speak as she turns to go to her desk. Tucking her curly blonde hair behind her ear, “no, it's just...ironic....i guess.”
I look into her eyes and know why it's ironic. It's ironic, because she feels sad too. She doesn't need a mask for being sad, she doesn't even need to wear the mask.
I nod my head and smile, “Well, I got a creepy porcelain doll, who has it worse?”
Claire laughs and smiles, “Your funny Autum.”
Just than I hear the bell ring and Claire smile, “See ya later.”
Written by Snow
and cries for more,
and more pain,
love wears all types of masks
and sends out fake pixie dust,
can you hold on
to a drug so demanding,
that cuts under your skin
and leaves you to clean up a mess that
love as created,
can you handle the tears
and the violence
that love has created
I remember my dad's red, drunken eyes. His horrid breath and his greasy hair when he drank. I remember hearing him yell at my mom and my mom crying. His speeches lasted forever but than officially ended like there love did. I don't think you could have called it love, you could have called it a volcano. The were about to erupt eventually, it was only a matter of time. I guess it is the same way as my mother, she had her breaking point to. Maybe the silence in the house was too much or the fact that she had no one but me. Or maybe she was a ticking-time bomb, I mean, we all have them.
I realize this when I walk into my room and see that there was a new mirror that wasn't glass, it was another form of medium. I guess I broke and now lost what little trust I had. Shaking my head I walk downstairs to see Lorie crying on the phone.
“Mom, I don' know what to do?” Lorie cries on the phone, clutching a pillow as she sits on the couch facing the blank TV.
I sit on the stair case an listen.
Lorie nods her head in unison, “Ya, I don't know what to do to make her happy.”
Her mom must have said something bad, because Lorie throws the pillow at the TV, “MOM! She broke Grandmas mirror by punching it.”
“Ya, but mom, what am I supposed DO??!”
“I tired that. She doesn't respond.”
Lorie falls to the floor of the couch, sobbing, “I don't know what to do to make her happy. I really do care about her. I mean, she is his daughter. I just wish she could understand that I am hear and breathing. At leas just treat me nicely.”
“Yes, I know.”
I am about to get up and go back to my room, when the next thing she says catches my attention and I sit back down, “No, why would I talk to him?
Lorie is now pacing the living room, biting on her nails, “No, he left us mom. He left with some other women.”
“Why should I listen to you about understanding. Autum is going through what I had to go through. Her mom was also suicidal like you.”
“Yes, mom I did forgive you of course.”
“But mom, I.”
“Yes, of course I know.”
Lorie walks to the kitchen, “Mom I have to go.”
With that she hangs up the phone and slams the phone into the charger.
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Lorie screams as she punches the fridge. Taking a plate, she throws it at the wall and kicks the oven.
Getting up I walk to the kitchen and stand in the door way, “That's not a healthy way of dealing with things.”
Lorie stops with a plate in hand and turns around to face me. Her face drops and I see her eyes go back to sane.
She puts the plate back in the cupboard, “I didn't see you there.”
“I'm sorry for treating you badly. You are the woman who stole my dad away and left me with my psycho mom. You know,” I smile as walk closer to her, “she did the same thing your doing. I am just waiting for you to commit suicide or attempt. Your just like her.”
Shaking my head I walk upstairs and blast some music to take all the pain away.
I look up to see Claire sitting next to me at lunch. I look around to see if someone was behind me.
“Your Autum right?”
“Good” Claire leans forward to me, her breast resting on my arm. My whole body buzzes as she breathes, her breast moving up and down against my arm, “cuz I wanted to know if you'll come over to my house after school?”
My eyes meet her blue eager eyes, “Ya...sure.”
“Cool cool, well, I’ll meet your at your locker. See ya later Autum.” Claire smiles, getting up slowly, her hand pushing up against my thigh to help her up. I look up at her and she smiles, leaving me to go by her other friends.
Opening my eyes, I realize, Claire just asked me to hang with her today.
Claire's house is huge. I knew you parents were loaded, I didn't know they were this loaded. Her room is in a tower looking room, and you need to go up a swirly stair case before you reach the hallway to her room. The Montraguer's had a 5 story house, with only three people living in it.
Claire's room is baby blue for color, a shelf with tons of cds, bought and mixed, and with a huge stereo. Claire has a plasma TV, a lot of games, and a queen sized bed. Her sheets are black, her pillows are black, and her blankets are black. Her carpet is also black, her shades are red, and she has a black fish.
“Wow,” I laugh as we enter her room, “i didn't know you liked the color black?”
“Yes,” Claire smiles, licking her lips as she lets her jacket fall of, “there is a lot about me you don't know Autum.”