Sunday, January 26, 2014

A candle burned

She stared out the window waiting for him to return. How long had it been since he pushed the boat from the shore and set out into the open water? Months maybe, she was unsure of the exact passage of time. Although she was constantly irritated at him and engaging in so many senseless fights; she missed him now. His face was beginning to get cloudy along with all the other various ideas she had in the past couple of weeks. Her heart hurt with a dullness that defied explaination and her hands shook lightly. She moved the small candle from the sill and rested her hands. Pushing her face against the glass, she began to cry. Softly at first, she wept.
The truth was, she didn’t really know if she cried from love or guilt. Her hatred rivaled her devotion of him and the bitterness stung. The wet flood that  washed her cheeks carried turbulent memories.
She wanted him to leave when he struck her knocking her against the wall and spitting upon her face. Yes, she hated him plenty for that but realized it was the booze that was to blame. So, she forgave him. She wanted him to leave when he called her a bitch and blamed her for everything he never accomplished. So, she forgave him. She wanted him to leave when he betrayed her a total of four times and lied to her face. Yet, despite the pain, she forgave him.
But something changed in her when he told her that he wished that their son had never been born. Something which  maybe always dwelled inside her, came to the surface that night. Her tears dried suddenly and she cursed him. Yes, she was sure of it, she had cursed him to a damned fate. She wasn’t even sure what conjure she gave him but she felt the heaviness inside. She loved her son more than herself and she felt a curse for a curse was sufficient. She remembered smiling as he caught the look in her eyes of evil intent and she recalled his blank expression. The knife had sunk and the fate had been sealed. When he told her he wished to go to the mainland and visit his family, she refused to go. “I shall remain and take care of the house, my dear. When shall you return?”
He shrugged and gave her a frustrated look, then answered with disdain. “I will return in a week or two. Why?”
She had dropped her head as she usually did and mumbled. She felt contempt and in a way was happy he was leaving. In fact, her heart leapt at the freedom she was promised for a while.
So, when he left in his little boat for the mainland, she smiled and sighed with relief. “Good riddance asshole.” She  said as she watched him untangle the rope of his vessel and prepare to leave. She even knew how much more he cared for that damned boat. “The Seaweed” is what he called ‘her’. Yes, he even gave it a sex. She smiled again as he caressed his boat and loaded his bags into the bottom. He turned in her direction and made the strangest expression that she had ever seen then pushed the boat into the open water. Her eyes never left him until he disappeared with the setting sun.
Now, months later she cried and maybe even missed something about him. But only the small  candle offered illumination in the night. Night after night, at her vigil, hoping the curse was not real and hoping the guilt would subside.  Her son, an infant
 boy, screamed loudly as she ignored him digging her raw fingers into the wood of the window sill. The small candle burned until it was no more. And she waited.

Timothy and the String Thing, a journal of strange love Part 2

November 15, 2002

I saw Timothy watching me today outside the math building. It was when I skipped my lab class and fell asleep in the courtyard behind Macon Hall. I woke up but didn’t move as I felt his eyes on me. He thought I was still asleep as he stared at me. It was kind of funny when he tripped over the steps in front of the library….and he thought I didn’t see that. That is what he gets for walking with his head turned. Such euphoric sensations went through me as I made circles in the air with me hands. I noticed how my arms resembled snakes from Beetlejuice with their striped arm warmers. I found myself thinking of him but concentrating on the movement of my hands. It was hypnotising. Lying on the concrete bench, I could feel the coolness of the rock as I came back slowly to reality. A few moments later, I wandered up the small incline to the library and pretended to be looking for someone. (Actually, it was him that I was looking for….but I pretended that it wasn’t.) I caught him looking at me again right before he dropped his head back into what ever book he was reading. He was so sexy, pushing his glasses up his nose and trying to look intelligent. What a nerd. I let him know I saw him as I wandered out the opposite door. Boy did he seem nervous today.

November 17, 2002

I cant take it anymore…I hate him!

November 20, 2002

He talked to me today. Me and Leslie were getting our books out of our cars in the parking lot between classes. It really surprised me that I would run into Timothy. My stupid phone was acting up and I was frantically trying to save my ring tone. He spoke and I turned around. My luck would be that the most corny song on my phone would happen to sound off loudly. I  am surprised I didn’t drop my phone, the way I was gawking at him and my breath caught as his eyes met mine. Wow…what power he held over me. He wanted to talk to me and I had no clue what I would say, but somehow, the whole conversation went smoothly. Unbelieveable…I did not make a fool of myself and he smiled at me the whole time. I think I am falling.

November 30, 2002

I am so confused. One day he acts like he really likes me and the next he acts like I don’t even exist. Is it my imagination  to think that there could ever be anything more than friendship between us? Timothy told me that he didn’t want to go to the concert with me and he was too busy to talk. So I decided to say…forget it. Forget him and all his stupid responsibilities. I dont need him and he isn’t that special anyway. Besides, he shaved his beard off and cut his hair the day after I pulled a strand of it after class. I was just playing around. How could someone be that sensitive and he really looks like a nerd now…an adolescent nerd. You know, I dont think he likes me touching him at all.

January 2, 2003

Well, it had been a month and I couldn’t take it anymore. I had an idea that day that really cost me alot. I decided to find Timothy on the internet. I had tried this before but with no success. But when this ditsy girl that had a crush on him told me he was on this social site, it was too much to resist. She even went as far as to tell me some of the things he posted. It was hard hiding my excitement from her but I think she is none-the- wiser. I found his profile only after a few minutes and sent him a friend request. He accepted. But the kicker is that I changed my name and put up a cartoon avatar so he wouldn’t know who I was. I really thought that this was the only way to let him know how I felt. It was a really stupid thing to do and now I regret. it.

I made my profile and gave myself a name. My name is Lee, lee Anne and now I am officially a victim of strange love, the strange love that makes us do strange things.

March 12, 2003

It all fell apart and he knows who I am. He even told a lot of other people who I am too. I contacted him and told him how I feel and now I am a laughing stock. My friends wont talk to me because some other girl got blamed for stalking him first and it caused a lot of drama.

I think I will just fade away because love is strange but I shall never forget the boy with the string thing, even though he hates me and I cant stop thinking about him.

Timothy and the String Thing, a journal of strange love Part 1

October 23, 2002

I do not recall how it occured or if it was all a figment of my imagination; but it seemed so real. The obvious connection we had and the intensity that flowed between us; was it true or was my mind struggling to create a fantasy? I do not know for sure but I know it will not go away.
Timothy was different. Yes, he was just another guitar playing brat no older than twenty…but something made him stand out from the other kids. Its like the pull of a magnet or the hunger of a starved child…so powerful. He was average build, with dark brown hair–you know, your ordinary guy. To most even boring, but not to me. His eyes held a depth unimaginable to most and his steps were always sure of themselves. Timothy smiled and the whole world seemed to change for that moment. All the sadness, the wars, the pain–the thoughts of darkness seemed to shrink back into my brain  when he looked at me. He was a drug-no an antidote and I found myself addicted to him. If he knew he projected such energy…I do not know, but I know that he couldn’t contain it. That little something simply radiated from him almost to the point of visibility and I found myself, as a pitiful child wanting more…never satisfied by him. Timothy was not human-couldn't be and I was determined to find out why he was the reason I was restless.

October 31, 2002

Just a normal Halloween except for the fact that it was seventy degrees and I was thinking of a way to talk to the quiet musician. We never had classes together but I learned his schedule by the patterns he made between classes. Yes, I guess some would label me as a stalker but it wasn’t the case this time. I only purposefully placed myself in his path a couple of times and then I didn’t know what to say. Sometimes I was a blithering idiot. My words, on many occasions, ended up being stupid and redundant. I used events and situations as an excuse to talk to him. Unfortunately most of the time, I ended up staring into the darkness of his eyes and losing all sense of reality. Those eyes are marvelous you know…they are shaped like upside down crescent moons and when he smiled they almost completely close. I love the eyes. They tell the truth you know.

November 3, 2002

I saw him when I was leaving the cafeteria today and he was beautiful. Have you ever seen the movies where time slows down and a look lasts forever? Well that happen to me and I am still stunned from the electricity of it. My best friend was walking beside me and I kept elbowing her in the side to look at him. For some reason she kept saying she couldn’t see him…that just pissed me off royally. I told her that he looked like Jesus with his new beard he was growing. I feel kinda bad now too because when I look at the picture of the messiah on my wall I think of Timothy. What is happening to me?

Saturday, January 4, 2014

Daddy's Dorothy

Chrissy wondered many times what lingered beyond the rainbow. She wondered of leprchauns with pots of gold and even unicorns crossed her mind. She looked up at her aunt and smiled, then Chrissy would say,

"Aunt Laurie, what’s at the end of the rainbow?"

Aunt Laurie would always say, "There are magic things at the end of the rainbow and if you go there, the magic will not work.

This puzzled Chrissy and so she would think of other questions to ask her aunt. She would ask her why the magic didn’t work, she would ask about the things that made the magic, wondering if they were leprechans and then Chrissy would ask about her father again.

Everything ended up about her father.

Chrissy’s father had told her stories about the rainbow from the time she was old enough to understand. Stories of magical fairies and other things that would paint the colors in the sky. Her father would tickle her and whisper into her ear about all the magical things that roamed around the end of the rainbow. Chrissy would plead and beg with her father to go where the rainbow ended and he would just laugh. That is when he would tell her the same thing her aunt Laurie told her.

"Magic doesn’t work when you seek it out, my dear. Magic comes as it wants and it resides within your heart."

Chrissy didn’t understand much about what this meant and so she dreamed of those magic things every day.

When daddy went away, Chrissy thought he had gone to the rainbow’s end and this made her even more curious.

"Aunt Laurie, is daddy over there with the magic things?" Chrissy would tug her aunt Laurie’s sleeve and whine just a little. She wanted with all her heart to go find out.

Aunt Laurie would set down her dish cloth and squat down before her little neice. Then she would insist that they go outside for a while. There in the beauty of the summer sun, Aunt Laurie would show Chrissy the the beautiful flowers. Some days Aunt Laurie would take a walk with Chrissy in the back yard and look at the birds that passed by. . But every time, Chrissy wanted to talk about daddy and the rainbow.

"I want to go there. I want to go find daddy." Chrissy would plead until her aunt would talk about the flowers again.

Aunt Laurie would take Chrissy up into her arms and give her a promise. "One day, we will go find the magic too and there will be beautiful flowers there like these." Her aunt would pick a flower and tickle her nose with it. Chrissy would laugh.

Chrissy would be satisfied for a while and then she would begin again in a couple of days. Aunt Laurie tried her hardest but Chrissy grew tired and realized that Aunt Laurie was just too scared to go find the magic and she didn’t believe that daddy was there either.

Chrissy stuffed her teddy bear, Tiny, into her little pink sachel and decided to go find daddy on her own.

Daddy had gone away, all of a sudden. Some strange people came and said something about her father and her aunt cried. Chrissy’s mommy had gone away when Chrissy was born and Chrissy just never met her. Daddy and aunt Laurie was all she had, they loved her very much. Chrissy knew this.

When Chrissy’s aunt stopped crying and came to her, she said her father had went to a magic place. She said that all people go to the magic place when they get tired. Chrissy wondered why her daddy did not take her with him. She wondered and wondered for a long time and then the rainbow came and Chrissy understood.

"Daddy is over there, aunt Laurie." Chrissy smiled a big toothed grin and pointed toward the first rainbow of the season.

Aunt Laurie swallowed the knot in her throat and smiled down at Chrissy. She spoke in a soft voice to comfort her neice. "Yes, I guess her is, sweetheart."

Every since that day, Chrissy had wanted to go see him again.


She wasn’t really scared in the woods, in fact, they seemed magical as well. She heard animals making strange noises and she thought that they were unicorns or something. She walked so long that her little legs began to hurt and itch from the thorns that scraped her skin. She walked and walked and hoped that the rainbow wasn’t going to disappear anytime soon. She glanced through the top of the trees and seen the beautiful colors overhead.

"I am coming daddy." She whispered and clutched her teddy tight.

As the day grew long and her legs grew tired, Chrissy knew the rainbow would go to sleep soon and the light would be gone. What would she do when the rainbow disappeared. Chrissy knew the magic would go when the rainbow went. She stopped in the path and she got very sad.

"Daddy, I tried. I wanted to see you but I am tired." Chrissy spoke to the air and then sat down on the forest floor. That is when she heard the voice and felt the hand upon her shoulder. She turned and looked up into her father’s face.

"Daddy! Oh Daddy!" Chrissy jumped up and squealed wrapping her arms around her father. "Daddy, I made it! I must be here! I found you! The magic.."

Chrissy’s father smiled and pulled her up into his arms. He spoke softly to her " You found me, yes you did and now you must sleep and I will take you home."

Chrissy woke on the front porch of her aunt’s house. The sun was rising and she felt happy. In her hand was a flower she knew it was from the magic place.

Aunt Laurie’s voice was heard upstairs calling her and sobbing. Chrissy ran inside and up the stairs. When her aunt saw her, she didn’t scold Chrissy, nor did she get angry. Aunt Laurie grabbed Chrissy and hugged her tight, then she spoke softly to her neice.

"Where have you been, oh god, where have you been? I was worried sick!"

Chrissy smiled and touched her aunt’s face, then spoke very clearly. "I found it, aunt laurie, I found the magic and daddy, he was there, just like you said."

Aunt Laurie looked at her neice and frowned. Before she could speak, Chrissy held out the little flower.

"He said, this is for you."


It never happens like you think it should. It doesn't rain when the storm clouds come, and I'll be damned if it ever snows. It's hot when it is cold and it is cold when it is hot. Look outside your car window and see the blue of the sky and you ask me, "How do you feel?"

The horse, yes, it did appear to be white and the knight had armor that was rather shiny, from a distance. The horse lays dead at my feet and the knight's armor is tarnished from warfare. Things are not as they seem.

Did you find the clue that I left you? It was over by the large oak. You know, the one we used to play around, when hide and seek was the game... You remember, on the day that the weather lied to us and you lied to me. I grew angry and I just left.

If you look, you will find it. I left a soft thing among the leaves and it was back in autumn. By now, my gift is frozen in the snow that never came and the friendship that was forgotten.

Nothing is ever as it seems and we are all liars.

Friday, January 3, 2014

Lorabelle and the man who woke up

It was stupid, very stupid. To go back to that place that was locked and to open the door. The stupidity of the situation was enough for a small child to understand, much less an adult; but she went back. Lorabelle went back to that odd little place and she glanced into that room again.

There, she saw him. He was lying on his side, covered to the waist by a fleece blanket. She crept in and watched him sleeping.  Her eyes fell upon his hair, his eyelashes and his mouth. She wondered if she was really there, staring upon him; or if she was just dreaming. She pinched herself for emphasis. He slept soundly at first and then some dream made him twitch. A moment later, he turned to his other side and settled back in for another bout of his dream, maybe.

Lorabelle couldn’t figure out what she was feeling; but she wouldn’t leave the doorway. She knew that at any moment, he might wake and see her standing there. He could say anything to her now. He could ask her to stay again, he could tell her to go away and yet, he could choose to say nothing at all, and that was the worst one yet. She knew she should lock the door again, she should turn and go and never think on it, at all, no never. Lorabelle was never good with goodbyes and she knew that if he was to awaken, she would just stand there and stare at him while he spoke or while he said nothing at all. Lorabelle was a girl that felt too much and thought much less than she should. Yes, Lorabelle should leave again, pull the door closed behind her and lock it up tight this time. Lorabelle didn’t do that and the man woke up.

He sat up, suddenly in the bed, fleece blanket fell down around his hips and his hand lay limp on the top of the cover. His eyes were strange things, the way they tested her upon first contact. His eyes were never weak, they asked questions as soon as they opened. It was his strength and his weakness all in one. She couldn’t move, as she knew would be the issue. His lips curled up and with a simple smile he held out his hand, the left one. Lorabelle’s eyes widened in horror. She has done as she had said she never would again. She went to him, she unlocked that which she had locked away. Her God frowned and she felt it ripple through her soul.

“Gamain, why are you here?” She braved a question that was full of wisdom and stupidity. It seemed that the ignorance had taken flight and flew in for a better look at its own destruction.

He exhaled heavily and dropped his hand.  As he spoke, it was clear as always. “You kept me here, all along. Lorabelle, you never truly let them go and you never let me go either. In fact…” he gestured around the room with both hands “You even created a room for me here, in your head.”

Lorabelle swallowed that terrible knot and she knew he was right. Why, most of the time he was. There wasn’t many times that Gamain told lies. Some of the hardest truths he braved to tell Lorabelle. She didn’t know if it was because he hated her or that he loved her. She found his truths to be harsh and it angered her. She felt her own self- control running through her fingers and onto the floor every time he invaded her secret thoughts. And so, tonight, today…or whatever this world was where Gamain was still here….she was again and again in that room. The room where he was waiting for her.

“Lorabelle, you did this. I cannot leave until you let me. I cannot stay away until you lock that door for good. You gotta stop peeking back inside if you want me to go away.” Gamain suddenly looked sad and Lorabelle gripped the door facing.

 Her nails dug into the wood and she could even hear it crackle beneathe her nails.

It was one of those times, those times where something hurt so much that no sobbing was needed to push forth the tears. They flowed effortlessly from the lids of her eyes. They were not hot, nor wear they cold, they just were and real they were. She walked into the room, closer to Gamain. He held out his hand again and bid her to come near him. She didn’t stop for  a second because it was something she had to do. She had to put her arms around him and inhale Gamain.

“I missed you, Lorabelle.”

She sighed and spoke, “yeah…”

As she felt him hug her tighter, she pulled away and pushed his arms back. She stood suddenely at the realization of what she was doing. His body had responded to her and she felt it in many places as her chest, her arms and her whole being leaned into his embrace. When she felt this, she had to let go, she had to pull back. Her god was furious now and she could hear him in her head, fighting with Gamain and his thoughts that had also broken into her sacred space. She looked down at Gamain’s waist and then further and saw that he was still hers. She was horrified suddenly by the fact that she had broken the lock. She was angry, so very angry that she had opened the door. She hated herself with something much more than passion for walking into this room. Lorabelle stood back and shook her head.

“No Gamain, no.” Lorabelle cried and turned to go. She heard Gamain calling her name and that was all she heard. She walked out and pulled the door closed, then she stopped. The lock was there and it was swinging from the hinge. She pulled it closed in a sharp angry twist.

“No Gamain, no.”

Lorabelle stopped still in the hallway and looked at her hands. He never was real and she knew that. Her dreams of Gamain were only parts of her that dared to relinquish control. Her portions would never be free in fear of something that had no safety net. She could not walk upon a track with no end. She could not see the sun of this, nor the moon of this…nor anything. Gamain was the part that the Lamectil would murder and the Citalpram would soothe from her mind. Her mentality fought suddenly, bringing Lorabelle to her knees.


The voice from the locked door, it called to her. This time it was after her and so she ran down the hall. The hallway was neverending and sooner than later, she was at his door again.

“Lorabelle, please…”

She stopped and checked her pulse, in fear that she might be done for. Lorabelle knew what was right, she knew the prayers that she had spoken day after day. She knew the pathway and how it curved to her destiny of lesser complications, the easy roadway, she surmised.

“Lorabelle, open the door.”

She touched the wood of the door and imagined that she could feel his breath and his skin. She exhaled deeply and her mind grazed the forbidden.


Lorabelle looked at the lock and then to her right hand which was now holding a key. She pushed the key into the lock and turned. The lock burst open and fell to the floor. As her eyes went up to meet the door, she thought about last chances. This was the last chance she had to do what was right. Lorabelle rubbed the wood of the door and lay her forehead against it.

“Gamain, what future is there…”

There was silence. For a moment, Gamain said nothing and then he spoke. “I cannot say, Lorabelle…I don’t know.”

Lorabelle opened the door and say him standing there naked. In his left hand, he held a small handgun. She guessed that It was a nine or something like that. She guessed but only fleetingly because she knew there were two bullets there. One to give and one to get. She smiled.

“Gamain, what future is there?”

He held the gun to her head and those eyes, they told a lie.

“I cannot say, Lorabelle…I don’t know…”