Miss Revived Part 5

“Well we’re done with the park and it’s getting late. What now? Should we find a random pub? Have a couple for old times sake? You really haven’t had a couple in peace. Our first excursion wasn’t the best, thanks to your old friend. Heh.” Cheryl said with a concerned voice.

They enter a local pub around the corner. Mostly full of middle aged workers, having one after a long day. It felt out of place but in a good way to Suz. She wanted to challenge her overwhelming fear of uncomfortable situations.

“You look like you need to talk, so shoot!”

“Truthfully Cheryl, I don’t think people understand me right now. I felt like I was under a microscope for years now by someone. I didn’t leave the house. You know why. You know my situation after situation the past few years was like. Like an A&E crime show episode. Except I statistically should be dead. I’m like the survivor who shouldn’t exist. There aren’t many of us to this degree. I don’t expect people to not think I am crazy. I act like an agoraphobic, bipolar,  empty vessel right now.” Suz admits with shame in her voice.

“But you are aware and awake somehow. You are fighting internally for your own identity back. Maybe I know more about it than you think, thanks to my mother. I’m sure just like she did, you still hear his voice and everything he said to demean you over and over. Like a drunk at a jukebox, playing the same song over and over. Except, it’s in your head and no one even hears it or knows. And if you told them, you’d be labeled schizo by ignorant people who aren’t psychiatrists. I know. It’s a common issue after extremely controlling relationships actually.”

“It feels like someone beat words into my head to the point where I could only think about myself in the manipulated way they wanted me to. All for control. All because of either fear or envy. Why not just love? Why is love not good enough for some people Cheryl?”

“Suz, I don’t know. But I do know it’s something inside of themselves that desires more. The ego drives a lot of beings in this world. That’s why it seems so dark. I feel humanity has to reconnect with certain things to salvage their empathy for not just one another but this physical planet and everything upon it. You bring that kind of light to this world. Even when you feel dark. That’s intense for those who are halfway there from your kind of transcendence.”

“You outdid your last compliment. I need to hang around you more. I’m really not used to this at all. Being complemented, being able to socialize, get into the car without the feeling of wrongdoing. I wish I could embrace it all better and not seem unappreciative. But I’ve forgotten what it feels like to receive real help and love. I want to remember right now, but I know time is the only thing that can help.”

“Indeed it is. You have to reconnect with yourself. Stop worrying about everyone else. You’ve done that enough to lift others up, but what have you done for yourself Suz? I say you draw a bath when you get home. Watch something you like for a change. Do something for yourself. One day at a time.”

“Sounds good to me. I don’t remember the last time I did anything for myself. You’re right but I still feel selfish.”

“Rid of the shame. Your heart will beat better without it. And go watch some Gabor Mate. Find anything or any voice that contradicts his annoying, looming one inside your head. Think of it like reprogramming. I’ll see you tomorrow or the next day. Soon. Take care of yourself tonight, Suz.”

“I will.”

That night Suz ran a bath, polished her nails, watched all the things people around her didn’t show interest in. She was self indulgent. Noticing every scar upon her body, remembering what happened while washing it away.

How could I have let this body suffer so much?! All those who came before me to bring me to this  moment of time. I owe myself and them more. She thought.

 

 

 

Miss Revived Part One

She had the hair like the sun, eyes like the trees, and a mouth pink like a rose. She never carried herself right, beaten down by the world, the minute she left the hillside. The green pastures, the star filled nights, the crickets almost on the clock every single night provided a comfort she now longed for. Busy city streets, busy lights, and busy faces everywhere. No time to slow down. No time to speed up. No time for anything but work and sleep. That’s how she always felt. Life was always a struggle. Never a blessing. Always a fight, without the encore.

And recognition was rare in busy city life. So many people, they all seemed to blend into a vortex of nothingness together. To create one force of nothingness. Some convincing themselves it is something, while they poured that dirty regulars coffee for the 18th billionth time. Some realizing how little their existence meant, carrying themselves with at least a kind of admirable humility. Some wallowing in their own misery, clearly taking it out on everyone else.

The way she saw it was you had three choices to be; ignorant, intelligent, or angry. There was no other choice when doing mundane jobs. It was, play one of those parts or starve.

Deep down she knew it was time to evolve. Time to break away from the role partially. Time to think about some way out of the cycle of work without passion. She was done listening and ready to go out and fight down life again.

For awhile she spent time being purposely mundane, blending in, and going along with the motions of the majority. No one cared. She didn’t mind at the time, but the hole in her chest cut deeper as each day of meaningless existence passed on.

One night, she made a big mistake. She calls it an accident to this day, but the truth remains inside of her; like a haunting vessel at sea, it provokes her thought processes. Every dryer, every tub, every story like hers still subtly struck.a nerve. A tub, a plugged in phone dumped into it, and a complex without power was the scene. Crying parents, her lifeless-like body lifted from the water, while her burned wrists looked like some kind of sacrifice was the scene. She, of course, doesn’t remember anything but waking up in the hospital.

They thought she did it on purpose, so she had to say it was an accident.

Why am I still here? I wasn’t supposed to live?! Now I’ll have twice the bull crap if I admit to anything. Yup! Total accident! Geez. I really screwed this up. Can I go back? Undo this? Nope, haha! Of course not! She thought.

The nurse was intuitive, knew something was off about the situation but her hands were tied without proof. The cellphone accident was plausible as well, so it was written up as a mistake on reports.

I guess this is my second chance at life created out of death. 

The thought was strangely comforting. Perhaps she needed to look death in the eye to be back to life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Miss Magic Part XII

“Stephen’s apartment is on Broad Street. I can check the mailboxes find his apartment number. You just keep a look out for anyone.”

“Will do. Better you than me, I am a clutz. I’d probably get caught.” Olivia admits.

Stephen’s apartment sat on a corner, of course it wasn’t the greatest complex. Neither was the neighborhood. Kid’s toys almost lying in the street from parents who didn’t pick them up. Perhaps, let alone supervise their children.

The mailboxes were mostly broken so it was easy to find his. Nothing looked like it was maintained for over a decade. Both doors almost fell off the frame when Jackie went in.

“It’s not very nice in there Olivia. He shouldn’t even pay rent until it’s fixed up really, really that bad.”

“Geez maybe we should have left a tenant’s rights booklet.”

“I think the money will be helpful for now. We could help him again, you know?” Jackie suggests.

“Indeed. He’ll definitely need more help in the future.”

“We have to find another casino and do it right this time. Go in with a plan, know the layout, scout it out beforehand, and really watch our own butts! We may not get lucky again if we’re caught.”

“Exactly. I was thinking about the same thing. I feel guilty in a way, but we are helping other people who need it and taking from a greedy casino. So is what we’re doing still morally wrong?”

“Don’t think of such things so much Olivia. It will tear up your insides like they’re being put through a meat grinder. Let’s just focus on doing good in our own community, then move onto bigger things. Hopefully no one will question us, until we have done so much, we’ll be like some kind of vigilantes in a good way.” Jackie says with childlike enthusiasm.

“I agree. It’s not like I can just sit there and do nothing, knowing what I can do now either.”

“Let’s figure out a game plan tonight, don’t rush it too much where it is stupid though. Let’s hope we can devise a good plan by the end of tonight with some more Ben and Jerry’s, Netflix running in the background, and the occasional off topic conversation I bring up. Haha!” Jackie exclaimed.

“I can get along with that idea!”

“So who do we help next? I kind of picked Stephen. You should decide the next person. We can at least discuss that before we get to the store.”

“What about Urma? I mean she’s behind in her taxes, what if we just go pay them for her? Is there a way? What if I said I was a relative from out of state, just trying to take care of my families finances that went haywire? Believable, right?”

“I mean you look quite young for trying to clean up your families mess, but we can think up your occupation, and I am sure they won’t even get that far to ask that question. Geez Olivia, you worry too much sometimes. It is best to be prepared for the worst, but at the same time you can’t always combat bad things from happening. Bad things do happen to good planners. You ever plan a trip out precisely and every little detail you planned seems to go the opposite way as planned. Your coffee lid falls off, your car breaks down, your tire pops, the parking is full, the event was cancelled, and your friend never showed up, right? Do you fret or not? Or do you think well this is just crap and try to make the most out of the crap? Jackie asks in a joking, but at the same time serious matter. The thing that make her different from the others.

“I am guessing I have to say make the most out of crap, because what choice is there really? Wallow in it? Haha. No thanks!” Olivia admits.

“Anyways, we were originally talking about Urma. We should probably get back onto that subject. We’ll just say you are a pharmacist if they ask, if that makes you feel better having an in depth plan. I’ll find out where we need to pay her taxes beforehand, make some phone calls. But know this; I get it Olivia. You are the one with the powers, so if anyone gets caught it will most definitely be you. I don’t blame you for at times, breaking mentally down in a way and being human. I truthfully would be ecstatic to have my powers as well as scared.”

They talk on and off topic all night. Finding all the casinos statewide, the best to devise and plan for and the least. It was ambitious. It was not going to take just one night of planning either, which they both realized. There had to be trust built as well between them. The kind where one would take a bullet for the other without hesitation. They were serious at times and joked to ease the stress of planning. They were the perfect team: honest, loyal, and strong for each other when they needed it. A friendship one could hope for their whole life and never have the chance to obtain.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Miss Magic IX

“I truthfully don’t want to offend anyone, but I don’t believe in angels  Olivia. I think that man was just a  second chance giving kind of person. A rarity in this world. Few can forgive, let alone give someone an opportunity out of it. ”

“True. I guess I didn’t think of it that way. I think of things in a symbolic way. I suppose I could have said he was like an angel.” Olivia explains.

“True. He was like an angel to us. He could have called the police. Who knows what could have happened?! They could have taken you away. Poke you with a bunch of needles. You do realize Olivia, what you have is desirable by those with power or money? You do realize what your ability could do in the wrong hands? Especially now?” Jackie asks with concern.

“I never thought of it that way until now truthfully. It was fun Jackie but I do realize it’s going to come with some not so fun parts. Like dealing with power tripping people.” Olivia admits.

“We have to look out for trouble. Me even knowing about this puts me in danger really.”

“Sorry I involved you in this. I had no one…” 0livia pleads.

“Stop! I’m happy you came to me. Although it comes with risk, you and I actually have a chance to make a difference now. We have a yet to be created purpose. Before this, I was just going through the motions in life. Olivia, this is pretty freaking awesome! Think about it! You’re like some kind of superhero.” Jackie says with the upmost enthusiasm, while raising her arms halfway to her sides like she always does when childlike excited about something.

“Thanks for being the coolest friend I’ve ever had.”

“No problem. You see I think we both can adapt to this situation quite well.” Jackie admits.

“Agreed. I can’t have my own back either all the time.”

“I think we need a night to recover. No more gambling for awhile, haha. Perhaps we should just sit around tonight and find out what you can do.” Jackie chuckles.

“Agreed. I’m exhausted. This whole night has been overwhelming.”

They drive back to Jackie’s apartment, grab some Ben n Jerry’s, a movie, and a new deck of cards. They contemplate possible future moral dilemmas and discuss ways to help others. The specific people they plan to help and the forgotten. They make plans to conquer the pain they see in the eyes of others.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Miss Magic Part II

The air smelled different. Even the clouds seemed to roll in differently. She thought to herself, what the heck am I doing here? Perhaps I have ventured out too far from the nest. She imagined slowly turning back, getting back onto the plane, and back to her childhood room. She imagined lying her head upon her mother’s chest as she cried, but then the thought repulsed her. She realized there was absolutely nothing for her there. No opportunities worth fighting for. It was a depressing, but at the same time, uplifting fact.

She wasn’t like the others. Her eyes always paid attention to her surroundings. So internally exciting by all the activity, all the faces, all the lights, and all the accents. Sometimes she would go home and practice accents, attempting to pull them off in public, and realizing someone either fell for it or might have thought she needed a 5150 (mental institution). Either way, it slowly didn’t bother her what people thought. Most of the time her brain was honestly so intrigued by the behaviors of other people, she felt like an outsider, with a non-narcissistic personality disorder unlike the rest of society. She thought to herself often I sometimes wish I had a cabin, could eat beans and rice, and be left alone to write. But it seemed like the world swarmed around her, even when she barely came out into the light, either intrigued or misunderstanding her.

Settling into seeing palm trees rather than pine trees was quite the experience for her as well. Still is. But she managed to find the redwoods, which made her feel like she was Alice Wonderland as she walked through them. She always had a way of finding a balance. To her, if something made her sad, there was something else to counteract it. Always an answer with enough research and persistence.

She spent most of her undergraduate working heavily as a server, staying up late with homework, and a pot of coffee. Lack of sleep induced psychosis happened eventually and she was forced to put the books down. She often thought, I wish there were forty eight hours in a day. Can the earth’s rotation change right now, please? It always felt like there were not enough hours in a day and coffee.

At times, even in the big city, it felt lonely. She wondered if Neil Gaiman ever felt this way? Margaret Atwood, perhaps? I think so. She’d convince herself to keep researching and writing. Keep finding inspiration as well and trying to give it back in appreciation.

The struggle was real. Like when a farmer asks you if you’d like a chicken, walks over, and cuts it’s head off, real. With no family support system nearby, working as a server, and trying to compete with those who might have had a bit more support, she felt sort of silenced at times. Money equals powers but let’s be honest, some people shouldn’t have money because they are honestly irresponsible with it. She often thought, they’re so dumb, they couldn’t even hire a decent financial adviser?  Then internally laugh, trying not to look externally crazy having deep thoughts like this at the laundromat. Until one day another quirky, eccentric, character like herself walked in to the laundromat. It was as if it was going to take a couple more run intos on Sunday evening (the weirdo avoiding time) for them to talk. But finally, she spoke:

“Uh. You dropped your underwear. Sorry I noticed.”

She looks down embarrassingly. “No. Uh. Thanks for noticing. It would have been more embarrassing if anyone else came in here.”

“No problem, girl.”

“My name’s Olivia. What’s yours?”

“Jackie. They call me jackles the crazy but I just act crazy. Please don’t tell them.” And she laughs hysterically.

It was at this point in time, Olivia knew it was like all the forces in the universe, like all the particles in the air, conjoined to form a planetary like friendship bond no other binomial nomenclature could possibly come close to. But then again, anything is possible. Olivia never rules out anything in life.

 

 

 

Wishing Well

 

Standing around the wishing well
Wishing well…
Hoping that no one can tell
I have been here for a while
With a sad smile
Climbing all the paths alone
And I don’t remember when was the last time
I sang myself a lullaby
and it made me fall asleep
All I do is weep
for all the sad souls in the world…
misunderstood like me.

So I’m just standing around the wishing well
Hoping that no one can tell
I have been here for a while
So I can remember the smell of the pines
All the good times I created and left behind
at the wishing well….

And so it feels I tread all this internally alone…
Frozen feet to the bone…
Like a martyr, always standing alone…
Like a soldier, broken down and left alone…

So I’ll be at the wishing well…
Hoping someday someone can tell
I have been here for a while…
So I can remember how it feels to be alive…
So I can dream
Then toss a coin
So I can bleed
Then toss a coin
So I can seek….
And be my own.

The Dimensions/Part 2

She wakes up to him tugging upon her sleeve.

“Mommy! Mommy! I have to go to school soon. Where’s my lunch?”

“I…I…” She panics…”I think I it’s in the fridge, hold on.”

Sure enough it is. She doesn’t remember ever packing it though. She doesn’t even know his name yet. She thinks, what’s my name?

So many thoughts racing, their almost uncontrollable. He’s staring at her, as if he knows something is different about her. Children always know when things are off. It is as if intuition is at its peak at those ages.

He runs out the door, barely making the bus.

Now, time for some investigation. She runs upstairs, trying to find anything with a name on it. She has to know who she is, who they are, where she is, in order to answer questions later. Nothing makes sense and she is overwhelmed with only an afternoon to figure this out it seems.

She finds something. A filing cabinet of some fancy kind. After some ravaging she was able to find birth certificates. Apparently her name is Margaret, her son is Alvin, and her husband is Edward.

Really, Alvin? She thinks. Poor kid.

She is 32 years old, Edward is 34, and Alvin is 9. None of this makes sense to her. She feels she was older, but she can’t remember how old. Everything seems to be getting more difficult to remember from her previous life. Tears roll down her face. Jack, her real son, is no longer visible in her mind. She pretends to hug the floor as if it’s him but this only results in a prolonged anxiety spell. She knows this will solve nothing. She must figure out how to get back home and not forget everyone.

She reads on, finding out more and more about the family. Looking at photographs, drawings, mailings, anything she can use to gain information. It becomes less and less painful as she continues.

The door slams.

“Hunny!” Edward says.

“Yes, dear, I am in here.” Says Margaret.

“Did you make supper?”

She panics. “I’m so sorry. I failed to get anything done today.”

“Are you okay?” Edward asks.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just maybe a little bit of a flu coming on.”

“Okay, well, I guess me and the boy will go out to dinner. I’ll bring you something back my love. Please get some rest and be yourself again. I sure do miss your cooking.”

“I will. Thank you dear.”She says.

Finally, she’s alone again. Now, time to learn some recipes. The cookbook is extensive. Covered in flour and definitely used every day. She cannot imagine a woman cooking every single day but she gives it a chance. She picks something easy for tomorrow evening and hopes for the best.

Edward awakens her. “You fell asleep with the recipe book. How adorable.”

“Well, I wanted to make sure I was prepared for tomorrow.”

She sits with him, eats her dinner quietly, letting him talk about his day at work, who he had seen in town, and what new shoes he desires. She gathers more information and finds herself becoming intrigued the more he speaks. She starts to think hey this may not be that bad after all. His handsome, chiseled face radiates authenticity. Then she starts thinking of her own family again. Guilt rolls in. He kisses her. She feels his lips tug softly on hers then pull away even more gently. It was like nothing she felt before. So innocent. Her heart becomes weak as she looks in his eyes and she starts to feel as if she belongs here.

He holds her all night. Carefully caressing her body, memorizing every inch of her skin, so he can remember it forever. She does the same, barely sleeping all night.