(no subject)
Kaelyn murmured to the homeless beggar outside her door and gently freed a twenty dollar note from the bundle clutched in her hand. He grinned and grabbed at it, muttering obscenities to himself. Her smile twisted as she thought of the scars that showed so clearly during the day, and that eye, milked over but still possessing a mean stare. A shudder rippled through her as she thought how he did it himself. Self-loathing. She turned, gently pulling the hem of her coat out from his fingers and turned the key to her apartment.
Little lights in the shape of dragonflies glittered in her hall. Wrapped around the staircase, draped across the curtains that we never opened, they brought a child-like ethereal quality to the other wise typical New York buildings. It was just like home, living in England after her father had left. Kaelyn had come home and discovered that her mother had redecorated. Dragonflies, long drapes of luxurious silks, cushions thrown every where, incense burning and her mother happier than ever.
She had come to depend on this view as much as she depended on the man living on her door step to beg for he last twenty dollars. It always brought up the same happy memory and reminded her that this was home. After every day she could come home and be comforted by familiar sights, sounds, beggars. A soft chuckle escaped her lips before she wearily started to climb the stairs.
Dumping her satchel on her desk chair she flicked the switch for the climate control and set it at a warm 24 degrees. The dragonfly lights had followed her up the staircase, this time attached to the walls and they flowed through the doorway to her bedroom and wound themselves across her ceiling. Tighter and tighter they spiralled until three simply dangled from the centre point in the ceiling. A sigh filled the room as she remembered how long it had taken to fully decorate her apartment with the lights. The money spent on the lights and all the accessories had blown her budget way out.
A button was pushed and her lap top switched on. Please enter your password. What was her password again? Everyday it was the same question. The same sadness. The same monster carving out a little more of heart to make itself a bigger hollow. 18-9-2003. Previous boyfriends had told her the stupidity of having a password so easy to guess, but she didn’t care. Hackers wouldn’t need her password to get into her computer, just a good internet connection and some patience. The mother who had given her so much should be remembered in everyway possible. Even if it meant using the date of her death as a password.
Three years ago.
It didn’t seem that long. Three years for her life to completely change, for her to move away from everything comfortable and familiar. A month to give up her job, three months to pack up her previous apartment and five to get her mother’s house ready for renting. Some of the time was wasted travelling with a boyfriend who didn’t love her anymore and who had cheated on her in every place they had stopped. She didn’t care. It was his body and she had no delusions about owning but it would have been nicer of his to try to keep it a secret for a little bit longer.
What had shocked her was the persistence of one of his affairs. He had given into lust and the call of a new challenge in this exact apartment. She stood on the exact spot that she had when he told her that it was over. That Michelle was coming with him to Toronto and that she should go back home. This was the very spot where when he had left she had crumpled. The exact spot where she had decided that she wasn’t going home. This was the spot where her life really changed she supposed. It was a comforting thought.
The hot water was turned on with a gentle twirl of the tap and the cold followed soon after. Her clothes were flung into the wash basket as she stepped into the marble shower embracing the water. It washed all the dirt of the day off. She sighed, showers always made her feel better. They didn’t ease the tensions in her muscles; it was just comforting to know that no matter where she was in the world, the simple things in life would always be the same.
You are a creature of comfort. Of routine. Your mother’s death threw you off course and you resent her for that. You shouldn’t but that’s what happened. That’s why you are constantly reminding yourself of her. Not because you loved her in life, but because you resent her in death. I’m leaving now, but you have to remember; life will throw you curve balls Kaelyn, make sure that you’re not so carved out of stone, that you can change to hit the home run.
She swore and turned off the shower with a vicious twist of both wrists. The cold went off first and she was scalded for a second before the hot followed. She swore again and punched the bathroom wall. Her knuckles pounded and she knew that she would soon work herself into hysteria. Not one night would pass that she could fall asleep without first hurting herself letting go all of the emotions that raged through her night and day. It was easier to keep them under control during the day, when she was at work, around other people. She didn’t want them to know that she threw daily tantrums. That the reason why she employed maids to clean her house was so that she wouldn’t have to deal with the aftermath of one of these fits.
She heard her mother’s voice, telling her not to hurt herself, telling her that she was loved. A low growl emerged from her lips and Kaelyn knew that pounding knuckles would be the least of her pains the next morning. Thank God it was the weekend; she wouldn’t have to explain the bruises and cuts to her work peers.
The beggar out the front curled up on the doorstep stuffing newspaper inside his jacket. He could hear the twenty dollar lady’s screams of pain, and he knew that she wasn’t being molested or raped. He knew that she was doing it to herself to deal with the pain inside her. A maniacal grin spilt his dirtied face. He pushed his face closer to the door and giggled. He liked it when she screamed. It made him feel not so alone, that he wasn’t the only one with the demons inside of him. He screams reminded him of who he was before, of his name; Jayden; “God has heard”.