Tuesday, March 31, 2015


Last night was a blur. After a god awful exam in the afternoon, I remember downing a couple beers from my fridge before settling down for a nap. I guess that drink affected me more than I thought cause I woke up and it was dark, my head was throbbing and my stomach was growling. After a couple of shots of whiskey to calm my nerves, I decided to grab some at the diner but didn't even make it to the street when I ran straight into the door. I'm guessing it all went downhill from there since after running into the door I tripped on the step and fell straight into a police officer. He grabbed me tightly and wouldn't go. It was almost a seductive move and I would have stayed there forever if he hadn't begun to pull out his notepad and told me I could either go back to my apartment or get arrested for public intoxication. I remember trying to reach out and kiss those beautiful ruby red lips while still struggling in his arms, but he pulled back and dropped me on the step. He fumbled with his belt and produced a pair of handcuffs, so shiny I had to squint to see them. I guess the police don't get much action around here. Next thing I know I get a surge of anger and begin shaking uncontrollably and punch the officer square in the nose. The last thing I remember before I black out is the dribbling blood on his face the same color as his luscious lips. So much for turning my life around.........

Sunday, February 22, 2015


I decided to get a haircut today. God knows I needed one and the people at the children's home can't do any worse than my mom used to do. She insisted upon cutting our hair until we graduated high school despite her deteriorating vision from a long battle with glaucoma. On my way there, there was a lot of commotion going on near the asylum and some strange man covered in a ghastly blue liquid standing on the edge of the roof. After my haircut I get the genius idea of getting a drink before class, it's not like we learn anything anyways. I take the shortcut through the alley that is strangely covered in graffiti. As I near the street I notice a homeless man huddled in a ball moaning. I dig into my purse find about a dollar in change and drop it on the ground. He shouts back  "What the hell!? Do you think I'm a fucking hobo!? Are you literally so stupid that you-" before he stops himself. Obviously he's ungrateful, and he is laying under graffiti that says "You killed her", so I figured it was best to run. 

By the time I get to the bar, I'm completely out of breath. I blame it on the cold, but some exercise probably wouldn't hurt me either. I slam down $20 on the counter and ask the bartender for as much booze as it will buy me. He gives me a funny look and asks if I'm 21. I guess the new haircut and no makeup look isn't mature enough for him. I shove my ID in his face and glance around at the empty stools around me. After downing two drinks, pausing to go to the bathroom and sloppily drinking the third and spilling about half on the counter, I pay my bill and leave. As I stumble over the curb, I realize I almost hit a small wrinkled woman without a coat. She mumbles something throws a card at my feet and proceeds to plop herself down on the bench outside O'Harleys. I go to pick up the card and almost fall over. It reads "falling apart is only for the weak." 

Saturday, January 31, 2015


January 31st.....its that time of year again. It's the fifth anniversary of my sister Claire's death. I still remember that day so clearly, her laying still in the hospital with ghost white skin and her eyes shut peacefully as if she was asleep, as the beeping of the machine slowed as they slowly let her go. She died from brain cancer, a tumor that she fought for 10 years but eventually became too weak to fight. There were days I envied her infectious spirit and how she could charm anyone, especially all of the guys. After she was gone I spent time wishing I had spent more time with her and less time envying her and coming up with ways to get her in trouble. I guess thats what all little sisters do.

I trudged through my day, which seemed to take forever and the standstill weather and gloomy clouds hanging over my head weren't helping either. When I finally got out of my last class it was almost dark. I noticed a bonfire going on at the park as I passed by and decided I would stop by and warm up for a little since I had some time to kill before 9:16. That's the time I visit Claire's grave each year since it's the time I got the call about her accident. I have a thing with remembering dates and times for some reason. Like it was exactly 6:42 pm on December 10th that I walked away from Pablo in a state of disarray and tears. It was at 8:53 am on December 15th that I unlocked my new apartment, 217 for the first time. And there are 379 days left until I graduate from City and move on with my life hopefully.

It was at 8:23 that I arrived at the bonfire and sat down on a bench near a teenage boy scribbling furiously on a notepad. I noticed when he finally looked up that he had beautiful green eyes full of knowledge and wonder. When I asked him what he was writing he quickly answered "a poem," and proceeded to close the notepad and stand up in a hurry. The only thing I managed to catch was the words "to my mother, may she never be forgotten." Before I could ask him anything else, he mumbled "sorry, I have to be at the diner, and promptly buttoned his coat and walked towards the path back to Shellac. Well, so much for my mom's advice about "putting yourself out there with new men."

After watching his shadow disappear into the trees, I gathered my things and headed towards Blue Blvd to grab some flowers at Kroger for Claire's grave, orchids, her favorite. On an whim, I grabbed a box of lindt truffles, Leonard's favorite. He may not be 20 or handsome like the bonfire boy, but he's got a Y chromosome and a stable job, albeit a grave digger. When I got to the back fence of the graveyard I checked my watch: 9:09, I had to hurry to make it to her grave and have it prepared for my reading at 9:16. I jumped the fence although tearing a hole in my favorite jeans in the process and sprinted to the maple tree in the front corner of the cemetery to the small grey stone. I could trace the carving in my sleep, "Claire Thomas, loving daughter, sister, friend and community member. A true inspiration to all." I spread the orchids into a "C" shape and waited until 9:16 to begin reading "Hope is the Thing with Feathers" Claire's favorite poem. When I finished reading, I noticed Leonard standing near the tree. He came and put his arm around me and we sat like this underneath the tree until dawn alternating between my crying and eating truffles.

Monday, January 19, 2015

3. Apartment 217

I woke up screaming, unable to shake the looming image of Pablo from my mind and tried to move but found myself restricted by tubes. Frick, I promised not to say his name ever again, it's hard when every morning I wake up and see the scar on my chest from that night. So that brings me to last night: I was about to take the stairs up to my apartment and was halfway down the hallway when I saw a dark figure in the shadows of the stairs clutching what appeared to be a knife. I must have fainted, because the last thing I remember is walking by an advertisement for some speed dating thing. I remember thinking I'd force myself to put on a little makeup and straighten my hair and go, but I guess that plan's out the window.

Here I am in a hospital watching snow fall out my tiny window in my empty room. There isn't a single get well card or anything and no one, not even my mother bothered to call me to see if I'm ok. The only person I have to talk to is this annoying doctor who keeps asking me if I'm ready to describe why I'm so afraid of knives and men. Like I want to describe my abusive ex-boyfriend to some stupid resident doctor. I'm not even important enough to get a real doctor. I heard him and some other residents gossiping about some crazy person who was found clutching a knife in an apartment building during a search warrant. They're treating the afflicted police officer somewhere down the hall. All I know is that my doctor told me my crappy college insurance will only pay for me to be here for two more days before I'll be sent to the mental hospital near Dreamwood for "further testing and evaluation." I guess I better talk to the pompous idiot of a doctor to convince him I DO NOT need to be put in a mental hospital. 

Sunday, January 11, 2015


I woke up unusually early this morning and decided I had enough time to grab breakfast out for a change. I sat in my usual corner booth at the diner and settled in with my coffee and a math textbook. After scarfing down a waffle and some spuds, my favorite breakfast, I began my walk to school. The weather was surprisingly hot for this time of year and I began sweating profusely in my black jeans and long sleeve black shirt. Since the that one awful night I haven't been able to bring myself to wear anything but black. My psychiatrist says it's my way of mourning the good parts of my life before HE ruined it. When I got to City community college, or City as we like to call it, the heat was still on. Stupid boiler system, we're in such a as town they can't even properly heat and cool the place Im forced to spend half my time at. After sitting in classes for 6 hours, and sweating huge stains into my favorite shirt, the only thing I learned from my ancient astronomy teacher is that there's supposed to be some meteor shower tonight.

After class I headed to Christine's for a red velvet cupcake and mid bite found crumbs from a chocolate cupcake and smudges of coffee on the plate. Disgusted I asked Christine about it, was told her dishwasher was out and promptly left leaving the half eaten cupcake for him to clean up if he ever returned, On my way down the hallway back in Dreamwood I heard some horrendous coughing followed by a thud, most likely someone or something hitting the floor. I considered knocking on the door to make sure everyone was okay, but decided against it. I continued on my way to my apartment and collapsed on my unmade bed the minute I got inside. I was exhausted for no reason and felt achy and had chills despite the weather. I guess I might have the flu, so much for that flu shot Brian told me would protect me. Seeing him is worth it though. Damn, I wish I had someone like him in my life now. All I have is this scruffy ugly stray cat that has taken residence in my window. Well, atleast this place it's better than my ex-boyfriend who shall not be named's sad excuse of a house.