Sunday 13 May 2012

Wooden Heart





It always looked the same - the walls - the blue on the walls - with the white white ceiling with the white trim - the closet in the bottom right corner - the desk - the cassette player - the lamp - the tape cassettes under the bed - the boxes - the crap - the mounds of crap - the almost thread bare carpet - the pink quilted cover on the single bed - pushed up on the top right corner of the bed - and her - there she was staring up at the ceiling - staring at the 'Santana' poster on the wall with the picture of the red mountains - and 'Santana' written on the top right on the frame - legs spilling over the side of the bed and with her back on the bed - 'God where are you?', 'God where are you?', 'God where are you?', 'Grandmom, why don't you come up the stairs, why don't you stop this from happening, why don't you get him off me?', 'Please get him off me', 'Please make him stop', 'Please get him off me'. He had her pinned to the bed. Staring in her eyes - hard and pressing into her small frame - she didn't know what that hardness was - but it felt wrong - whatever it was felt wrong. And then turning her face this way and that - she was trying to escape from his advances - from his mouth as he forced her to kiss him - 'If you kiss me once, properly, if you kiss me properly I will stop', 'Kiss me properly and I will stop'.


She stood in the back garden watching the ants crawling up the red walls of the red brick enclosure - she could see the pink and the yellow of the roses that were also crawling up the walls - walking over to them she picked the most beautiful of them all - in her attempt to touch it she caught her 6 year old hand on a thorn - and the bead of blood began to form a trail down her palm. It was then that she made a decision - a decision that 'life was cruel, life hurt' - in that searing heat she ran inside and tumbled on the couch, she peeled melon pips in her mouth to eat the seeds - TV on - she learnt that Elvis Presley had died - he was dead - the guy that she loved was dead - she continued to pop melon pips in her mouth, peeling them between her teeth while Granny made dinner.





No comments:

Post a Comment