(Fiction)
I welcomed the boom of the thunder like vodka warming my insides. The palm trees rustle and hit my glass window every few seconds, begging me to be mesmerized at the grass, wet with the rain’s kisses. Darkness seems so beautiful, as it permeates the sky. The mist glides slowly across the high, majestic mountains, brown and green, creating a beautiful contrast. The cool breeze slowly reach under my shirt, and caress my skin, stroking its long fingers across my stomach. I smile, in two long months I finally smile. Call me strange, but I prefer the dark skies and sound of rain hitting the sunburnt leaves. I breathe in the scent of the liquid falling from the Heavens on the Earth, lighting up my room with the sweet aroma of nature. The sun has the ability to expose emotions that I am willing to hide. The puffy clouds remind me too much of a children’s TV show, and the blue sky is a little too friendly for my grim expression and anti-social attitude. ## I was never the typical girl, my mother named me Lucy. A name for a girl who loves pink and tiaras. I wore ripped jeans and scaled from tree to tree, doing my best jungle boy impersonation. I preferred black, while excited mothers ran their fingers along yellow sunshine dresses for prom. I tore mine, and exposed a little more than my mother wanted. She curled her lips, making her face appear deformed, and folded her arms across her chest. We stared at each other, until the tears started falling miserably from her old, baggy eyes. At sixteen I left, not in body, but mind. We communicated in mumbles, and roamed through the house at night like ghosts. My skin was pale, almost translucent; but Jason, my first boyfriend didn't mind running his fingers inside my underwear, or kissing the spots where the moon shone. I felt the moisture from my mother’s eyes seep through the walls. I could sense that she was pressed against the wall in her room, as usual and her broken spirit stood in front of me. I lay naked with the boy, watching the steady motion of his chest. I would blow the smoke from my cigarette towards the wall, reminding her that I haven’t changed. He would leave me, cold and unclothed under the sheets, never bothering to kiss my cheeks or smell my hair. He often closed the door without respect, which made me jerk, coming back whenever he chose, whether the day after or weeks. Jason ditched me, after he saw us in the light one day. He witnessed our hatred and grew distant and afraid of my heartlessness. I got paler and my hair darker. My mother grew weaker with stress, and I witnessed her dying every day. Her lips sealed and her eyes concentrated on the ceiling, until it was night and she closed her eyes, grateful to forget me and the world for a few hours. When she finally left, I drank all the liquor in her cabinet, and forced myself to sob in front of strangers. I ran my hands through her Givenchy and Lanvin, and took her Louis Vuitton, stuffing them in my overnight bag. I left her house, not even bothering with the legal issues. I walked and kicked the dust on my boots and on my jeans, humming to myself. Her expensive scent seeped through the closed bag, until it appeared as though her hands were gripping my neck. I threw the dress from my bag, and walked on, humming and keeping the image of my mother in my head. “Lucy” a voice questioningly called to me in a far away city one day. I thought I had left Wisconsin behind. © Copyright 2014 Renee (UN: reneej at Writing.Com). All rights reserved. For the full version, visit my profile on Writing.com Until Next time: "Love as long as you breathe, laugh as long as you live. Cheers Renee' |
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