There once was a child born underwater. Her mother felt it safer and a better way to grow her. She lived her days watching her mother and all else walk over her. From where she stood neither way of living looked better. Her mother was sick and kept the extent of it from her, by the time she found out her worst nightmare was upon her. She knew there’d be people wanting to save her, but she wasn’t so sure if they really wanted to help her. The death of her mother made her pull herself further. Under the deep blue filter the people looked smaller, were they just ghosts of what was offered? She questioned if these realms were even for her. So many people arms outstretched above her, still, she just continued to swim down under. As she saw the helping ropes and good blessings she started to realize that she should have never even bothered. Every day is a horror that she cursed these poor people hoping to see the drowning child to touch and comfort. She never learned and didn’t want to, still, she felt bad for the people above her. She should try to live like they, she thought often. She was never able to get past horror. She’s still down under the water filling it with tears and salt hoping to choke her.
Tag: short story
Stolen Firsts Pt. 2
Fighting with the door, I stumbled into my dad’s apartment. Wiping my lips before walking in; the bottom half of my face still feeling wet. I didn’t go to that random guy’s apartment, John he said his name was. I did get his number, saying that I would call him and maybe take him up on his offer. I hugged my dad, told him about my crazy night at work, and my crazy drunken after work party with my bestie. Forgetting all about what had happened a block away from his apartment.
Summer turned into fall and the what if questions began to creep in. What if I had gone with him, What if I had called him the next day? Would I have turned into a manhunt case? With the curiosity building and my libido bubbling over I gave him a call.
“Hello?” He answered with his thick Italian accent. It made me wonder how long he has been here.
“Hey! Um, is this John? I don’t know if you remember me but I met you in Harlem. My name is Upenda?”
“Oh yes! I remember you, the beautiful girl I saw when I was getting off of work a few months ago. It has been so long! Why did you not call me, you didn’t like me?”
“No. Just busy, you know. You work around where I was that night? Where do you work?”
“I’m a personal trainer at Planet Fitness. If you ever need help getting in shape I can help you. However, I wouldn’t want you to lose your body. I love my women bigger.”
I sighed internally. Will this be a fetish thing? Not that I wasn’t alright with it. I just didn’t know what kind it would turn into.
I knew when he said “Baby, let me take you out to eat and shopping. I bet my baby would like that, right? Daddy loves to see his baby happy.”
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How’d you like it? I know my grammar and sentence structure is terrible. Please leave comments and feedback!!
Stolen Firsts
“Oh, shit!” He said, with panic. I looked down at him worried “What’s wrong? What’s happening”
“There’s a lot of blood. I’ve never seen this much blood. Does it hurt?” “No, let me get up.” I get up staring at the bed that looks like a murder scene. I then feel a rush of blood and other wet things pour out between my legs. The floor is red, my clothes are red and he’s going to need to buy a new bed.
Two years earlier, coming out of the subway was when I first met him. I was wasted, tired and hungry. Climbing the never ending stairs while mentally counting how many blocks it was to my father’s house. A muscular man, 6’2” walking towards me, throws his cigarette and chugs the last of his coffee. He then says to me “Hey baby, did you have a goodnight?” I don’t know this man, I don’t know anyone here. I turn around to see if someone is behind me. Three am really is the hour that everyone stops existing. Noticing that I thought he was talking to someone else he grabs my chin and leans me against the bus stop. My first kiss was all teeth and saliva, from a stranger. I didn’t like it but I didn’t say no, so I guess that convinced him to ask the next question. “Want to come to my house? It’s just up the street from here.”
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Should I continue? I’d love to see some comments
Route 66
I hate this neighborhood. There are only ten houses and only three kids out of the whole street. This includes me, the only girl out of the three kids who live on Hampton Street. Since the boys are always gone somewhere I am stuck again. Stuck to use my imagination to pretend I’m actually having as much fun as they are probably having.
Today is Barbie’s birthday and she wants to take Kristina out for a ride in her new pink convertible. They’re driving down Route 66 listening to their owner’s favorite song, “California”.
“We’ve been on the run, driving in the sun looking out for number one. California here we come right back where we started from . . . “
The winds began to quicken and the clouds set in with thunderous rainfall. Suddenly, the pink car hydroplaned into a ditch sinking deep into a muddy lake. They yelled for help when a landslide enveloped them into a mud cocoon. Lucky for them this created an air bubble that could provide them with enough oxygen to survive for years.
I was having fun filling the mud puddle up with water in my mini lake of a driveway. However, my mother called me inside for dinner. I left Barbie and Kristina to fend for themselves. They had plenty of food in the car since they had no idea how long their trip was going to be, they just wanted to keep driving. I left them in that air bubble for two years, just as Kristina and Barbie were deciding if they should start eating each other. The food had just run out they had no idea how long they were encased in this murky coffin, but they knew they wanted out.
Then the trumpets started playing, they knew they were about to see God as a light came from above. I had finally decided to take them out of their muddy coffin. I carefully washed them and put them back on the road. Hoping never to return to the unpredictable Route 66.
Stain
All I could see was red. Which, I guess, is better than only seeing black, white, and some grays. I should get out of this tub before it goes too far. I gasp for air coming out of the water. I step out onto the cold white tile and allow the red to drip. I slowly walk to the towel cabinet, wrap one around my body, wrap a small one on my upper arm. It wasn’t deep enough; I wasn’t in there long enough. So, I am alive, and I take a deep breath. I bandage up my arm, get dressed, and walked out my door.
“Elizabeth!! Hey! Where have you been? Everyone was looking for you after the party.”
“Hey, Mike! Oh yea, sorry, I needed some sleep. I was home the whole time. I had dropped my cell in the tub so that no one could reach me. Tell everyone I’m good, alright.”
He sighs. “Ok, Liz. Are you going to work? I’ll come to pick you up afterward, ok?” He runs in front of me to look me in the eye when he says this. Does he only see red too?
“Yeah. Ok, I get off at midnight, maybe a little later. Are you sure that’s not too late?” Although people are annoying, it feels right to be around someone right now. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to have these people in my life. I should enjoy it while it lasts.
His face lights up. “It’s never too late. Both of us are some kind of a weird insomniac. I’ll see you later, chin up.”
No matter how lost and useless I feel, helping customers, interacting with people will always make me feel better. I don’t know why that is. Is it because I don’t have to think about me, where my life is going or how I’m not good at anything. Time goes too quickly when you are enjoying yourself. I joke with all the customers, I joke with all my managers; and I kid myself out the door into the winter night air. It’s that fresh taste. You know, the firsts of winter, it’s about 28 degrees, not much wind but enough to make your cheeks and nose hate you. I think about walking home instead of having Mike drive me. It’s so lovely out. Maybe I can convince him to walk. I don’t want to be completely alone right now. I feel something pull at my waist and yelp.
“You actually got out on time tonight. It’s a miracle!” Mike pulls me in close from behind. I know this is an action of a boyfriend, but he isn’t mine. He’s been with his current girlfriend for two years. She’s adorable. Mike has just been a close friend since the start of elementary school. I’ve been waiting for the day he’s going to leave me. Cause everyone leaves someday.
“I KNOW!!! Today was a good day too. It was slow; no one was in a bad mood. I also got wine as a tip!”
“Alright! Let’s get tipsy and toasty. I’ll cook late-late dinner.”
“Sounds beyond perfect. Let’s watch a random lesbian movie on Netflix. You know, one of the weird ones that make you question how long and in-depth sex should be.”
“Great. I’ll cook pasta then. Slurping needs to be in effect for these kinds of movies.”
We are laughing on the couch two bottles later, remembering what’s happened in our small town. Movie over and one of the actresses resembling the first girl I ever liked, we started talking about our community’s deaths and births. The heroin epidemic and people popping out babies left, and right has left us the weird ones out. Then it happened. So much wine goes right to the bladder. I forgot I never cleaned the tub out when I heard him yell.
“Elizabeth!! There’s this huge red stain in the bathtub!!! It’s the whole bottom of it! What happened,” I need to make up an excuse, anything to make sure he never knows.
“Oh. That old stain? You don’t remember it was from that time I dyed my shirts red. You know it’s my favorite color. Guess we haven’t hung out in my apartment in a while. We usually go to yours.”
“I think I would have remembered that.” He studies my face as if to catch the lie. “Oh, wait, I do remember. You had told me, though, that it would only last a few weeks. It’s been a whole half a year. I think you need some bleach.”
I smile at him. Relieved that he believed my lie. “Oh no, it’s fine. A stain never hurt anybody. It’s probably because I waited until the next day to clean it out. It’ll never come out now.” I wonder if I had succeeded today if he’d see that stain in every bathtub. Suppose I would be the biggest stain on his heart. A living breathing stain.
inquisitivepenelope 