The following is fictional. It is my original story. This is Chapter 2. Chapter 1 can be found in the “musings” category on my blog. Enjoy!
I never imagined my life could turn out this way. When one imagines and plans their life, I can say for sure that no one would ever pick this. But wait, I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me tell you who I once was.
I was once an innocent seven year old girl with a loving family. I lived the way I assumed every seven year old girl did. My brothers and sisters rounded out our family along with our mom and dad. I was smack, dab in the middle; two older sisters and two younger brothers. My brother Ian, who was just fifteen months younger than I was, was autistic. He was my best friend. Ian was always happy, which made him very endearing to everyone. Sometimes though, he would get on my nerves. Once Ian got an idea in his head, he would constantly pester you until whatever his idea was came to fruition. My two oldest sisters were several years older than me. My parents had them, then waited six years and had the last three. So, although I loved my sisters dearly, our age gap kept us from being very close. Holly, who just turned sixteen, had just gotten her driver’s license. We had a beat up old Honda civic, which she was allowed to drive. I thought this was pretty neat, because now I could ask her to take me to the skating rink!! Every time she drove my somewhere, we would drive by her boyfriend’s house. I didn’t understand the fascination of sitting in a car in front of her boyfriend’s house, but hey, she was taking me where I wanted to go. Kasey was about to turn fifteen soon. She was a bookworm. Her bedroom walls were lined with shelves and shelves of books. She would always say how much she loved the feel of a book in her hands. They were sacred to her. My parents got her a Kindle one year for Christmas, but she never even took it out of the box. She wanted pages to turn. I snuck in her room one night and took the Kindle and I’ve had it ever since. She never once asked where it went. So, that leaves my youngest brother. His name is Henry. He’s just two, but talks non stop. He throws food when he doesn’t want it and screams when he’s tired. I wonder…… when do these behaviors morph into appropriate responses? Or do they just simmer in us waiting to rear their ugly head again?
When I first met Him, I knew right away that those types of behaviors were abiding in him. I could tell that they were not only abiding in him; but growing exponentially.
The day I met Him was a beautiful day with blue skies and white puffy clouds. I used to lay on the ground and watch the clouds change shapes and try to figure out what they looked like. Such an innocent game to play. Soon, that innocence would be lost.
The following is fictional. It is the beginning of a short story. I will attempt to put a new chapter out once a week. Please feel free to ask me any questions. Peace. donna marie
After that night, nothing was ever the same. Never again would I hear footsteps coming down the wooden hallway without chills shimmering up my spine to the back of my neck. I still shake from the chills. When I close my eyes, I can feel his dry, rough hands touching my face, I still smell his burnt flesh as he singed his forehead bending down to extinguish the two candles that were lit on the side table. Wax had dropped upon the table and caused a mark when the wax was removed.
He didn’t know that I knew that he was guilty. I could see how this particular lack of knowledge emboldened him. His arrogance astounded me! He truly thought that he was smarter than everyone else in the room. He thought he was “The Moral Compass” for humanity. I didn’t realize how long it took me to believe it. Making yourself “unbelieve” something is next to impossible if you’ve been brought to that belief through hurtful methods, such as being abused can be especially difficult,
Close your eyes so you won’t see
The road ahead You chose for me.
Her absence was felt more keenly than I care to admit. I see my beautiful niece smile. She is a picture of her mother– my sister. We are all walking where so many have walked before…..uncharted territory. No maps. No gps. No cell phone. We’re on our own. What’s the right thing to do? In my experience, that question can be a trap. The right thing…..the right thing…..Must we always do the “right thing”? As I see the unbearable pain etched in my brother-in-law’s face, I see that this dance we’re doing is better if done in the dark. Don’t think…..just feel inside you. I never in a million years would have guessed that my family would be at this juncture in life. Burying my beautiful sister far too early. And now….clawing our way through the dark…..hoping to find the way. I truly believe that I will never get over my sister dying. But I will…..eventually….. learn to live with her loss. May our family continue to be there for each other and love, love, love.
The following was written by my sister, Johnna Anna a few days ago. Today is six months that we have been without our sister Rhonda Lynn. I am extremely blessed to have grown up in a family with four sisters. Johnna, Rhonda, Donna, Sonya
Four strong walls that together made a fortress. Together the four provided security and safe haven, standing together arms locked against the winds of change that wanted to wreck us. We found comfort knowing we were together clinging to each other. Our lives so entwined, our hopes and fears guarded within those walls. No matter what, as long as we were together we could do anything, go anywhere because we knew that fortress would still stand. We comforted each other, we hurt each other, we cried, we laughed and we were always the four. But now, we are three. Life feels unsure and scary again. We don’t have our 4th to help hold us together. Life will never be the same. It feels empty and it hurts so bad. And now we must learn to stand together as three.
Have you ever been afraid to be happy? I find that while I have had some difficult challenges through my life, the challenge to embrace being happy is harder than I thought. My brain, which has a habit of running every possible scenario through its caterpillar-like fibers, lulls me into feeling that if I am happy– the “other shoe will drop.” This terrifies me!!
For the past two weeks, my depression has taken a vacation. (I have not sent him a card!! lol ) I don’t remember the last time I was without my familiar companion. The feeling is new. Tentative. Fresh. Who am I kidding?? It is wondrous!!! But— I can’t shake the feeling of the “other shoe dropping”. So I hope as I charter beautiful waters, I enjoy the moments–not marring them by worry. Because we all know that eventually the “other shoe will drop”. It happens to everyone. So onward, one day a time.
when you can jump outside the line
whistle as you go
and leave no one left behind
but tell them so they’ll know
tell me who you are, open up my eyes
been blinded too many years, please from me don’t hide
for you are light and love, send it now on me
so i can see your smile, and better i will be
Why is it that it always takes a tragedy to wake us up? Can’t we all live a life that is caring, selfless, and kind? Why do we always need a kick in the butt to make us see? I know for me, I’ve had many times where I have “sat back” to take stock of my life. I would see areas I lack in and would make mental goals to do better in these places I lack. But somehow my resolutions faded into the mist that sometimes seeps into my soul.
I think about humanity and the depths of depravity we can sink to. How can one human do horrible things to another human? It doesn’t make sense to me. Is it that hard to be kind to others? You know, we can never tell for sure what is going on in someone else’s life. In my opinion, it’s a good idea to give others the benefit of the doubt….. you know? I mean, if someone is at a cash register acting like a total whack job; it can be extremely trying to our thinning patience. But if we smile and treat the individual with kindness it will make a difference–if not in the whacko, then in us. I am learning that if we pour out ourselves, even in the smallest of ways, I believe it always makes a difference in us and hopefully to someone else as well. So the next time someone ruffles our feathers- take a deep breath, smile, and be kind.
(Disclaimer–While all of the previous thoughts are wildly beneficial; I must also confess that I have what you would say, “lost it” a time or two. I’m a work in progress. 🙂 )
I never really thought about the lives of truck drivers much. Really, the only thinking I had was that the truck was in my way as I drove! Six years ago I married the sweetest man alive who happens to be a truck driver. Over these years, I traveled with him many times on the road. I always had my camera ready to chronicle our journeys. I thought it would be good to give you all a small taste of the life of an American Truck Driver. (Please note that the quality of many of the photos may be skewed a bit as they were taken from inside the truck behind the windshield covered with bugs.)