Chapter 14: Good-Bye
Fog hangs low, clings to the sharp blades of grass rolled out in front of Ron’s pale blue tract home in the suburbs. The dawn is just breaking, morning light peaking up over the hills, spilling rays of gold across the tree tops and roof peaks lining the quiet street. From inside his cold, empty...
Chapter 13: Shift
For some inexplicable reason, the balcony on my little second floor apartment is covered in sand. The piping legs of my beach chair nestle into the grains and I dig my toes through the course piles. From my vantage point, settled outside the sliding glass door leading to my bedroom, I can see the trademark...
Chapter 12: Shattered (continued)
I drive, past the skating rink that is now a DMV, down the street that bisects what is left of the orange groves, back and forth through the winding canyon road snaking through the brown, listless hills, my windows down, the hot air blowing through my car. I pull over to the side, off the...
Chapter 12: Shattered
Shattered. Everything is irrevocably shattered into little tiny, jagged pieces. I clutch my hands over my ears, dull out the sound with my shaking fingers. They are yelling. Lecturing. I have disappointed them. They should have known better, they say. “We let you into our home. We trusted you. We allowed you into our family....
Chapter 11: Virgin
Sitting at the table, I clutch the napkin in my lap and stare at the plate in front of me. They are talking about me, but I want to slip away into nothingness. They think they know me. They think they can save me. They think that they already have and they are proud of...
Chapter 10: A Cappella
Standing, knees bent, feet firmly planted on the ground, my forehead opens up with the sounds that are emitting from my core. I lift my voice, my heart, my soul, in a celebration of the savior. I breath from my diaphragm, I sing with such passion and freedom, the notes bathing over those around me. Collectively,...
Chapter 9: The Cross
I was not an alcoholic, so going to AA was never going to be the answer. Lying, pretending that I had a debillitating addiction should have been seen as a cry for help, but instead was witnessed and judged as a bizarre and pathetic thing to do. Who would fake an addiction, they demanded to know. But...
Chapter 8: Step One
I used to love, I mean really love- with a deep passionate longing of envy- novels about woman who were tragically off their rocker’s. The Bell Jar, Prozac Nation, Girl Interrupted… I looked up to the characters in these twisted and haunting novels. They were multidimensional, imprisoned in their minds, misunderstood, on the outside looking...
Chapter 7: Silence
I’m making my rounds at the local thrift stores. I get into my car and drive, in search of that one thing. I don’t know what it is, but the magnetic lure of finding it pulls me towards each store, with their pealing tinted windows and musty aisles. I open the door and scan each...
Chapter 6: The Windup Girl
4:30 in the morning and I’ve yet to fall asleep. The digital clock next to my bed, with its glowing red numbers, mocks me as a I will my brain to shut down and, for the love of god, just let me fucking sleep! I’ve tried everything, but the pills and the meditation tapes and...
Chapter 5: The Traveler
1942 The Traveler was a vagabond with a flashy wardrobe. Moving from town to town he made a living in card games and billiard halls, but rarely from honest work. His pockets were often lined with dollar bills yet he called no where home and never stayed long enough to wake up in his own...
Chapter 4: Home
Dragging her feet as she moved down the hill, the clockmaker’s daughter slowly worked her way home after a long day at school, her feet leaden, each step taking more effort than the last. The sun shone bright above her head, not a cloud in the sky, she focused her gaze on the ground as...
