Beautiful Little Fool

I remember a beautiful, loving child that gave to everyone, but took nothing.  Never receiving anything, but always more than content with life, being ignorant due to outside sources that were unknown at the time.  A looming, haunting figure with some other intentions pulled her mouth into a believable smile; who sat her on a stage for all of the world to view as truth.  Everyone can be this happy.  And each day,  her mother received compliment after compliment for her trophy daughter because of the lies.

            Although having a dark and shadowy figure watching her, she, in her innocence was oblivious. The girl’s memory of early childhood was flooded with wonderful and bright images of her mother.  Her mother in particular, was a woman that resembled the holy and utmost wise prophet from the Bible; secretly touched by the hand of God in a way even her daughter could not begin to imagine.  That motherly, conservative body and bold, open arms welcomed her daughter, as did her smiling face framed by her long, blond strands of hair.  Her mother taught her lessons in life that made her who she was. “Treat others as you would like to be treated,” she would say sometimes.  Other times the saying was, “Love your neighbor as you love yourself.”  Some might say that the girl took these to the extreme.  Unusual to children, she never felt the need bicker and tease the others, and never found fault in anyone around her.  Instead she was loyal and loving, which gave her the title of friend to all no matter who they were.  But because of this, she was of so innocent and vulnerable to the evil intentions of others that lurked around every corner.

Although the girl loved her mother, her feelings towards her father were the polar opposite.  How could she describe him?  He did not have the ability to communicate with children, if he even tried.  With her mother, she could remember every syllable of every word of their conversations, whereas with her father, she had no memory of any good conversation they may or may not have had.  It was the awful ones that held her memory hostage. 

            Her father had the temper of a lion.  He might look peaceful for a while, but she knew that the beast inside of him could take control at any second, ravaging everything that he held dear.  Once, on a ride home from school, he suddenly heard a rattling noise that made him angry and frustrated.  “Can you find the noise?  Try to find it!”  His daughter, only eight years old, searched willingly for the noise, which she could not even hear.  His patience began to wane as the clocked ticked and she could not locate the strange rattling.  “I can’t find it Dad,” she said desperately hoping that he might just leave the situation at that.  “Look harder!” he replied, starring at her as if she was insolent.  She could see he was on the edge of breaking so she began searching again fast this time, checking everywhere to please him and to calm his anger.  Panic overwhelmed her when she came up empty again and she looked to his face, which was red with the blood rushing through his body. He commanded her again and again to search harder and in certain areas.  Every time he asked, his voice got louder and more violent, causing her to get sacred.  He finally screamed at her, “God, what is your problem?” She replied, holding back tears with what little strength that was left in her, “Nothing, what is yours?”  He responded with one word that was composed of three letters and a voice that thundered, “YOU!”  At that moment in time, it felt as if his words had shook her so had that her heart fell to her feet; the delicate thing broken into pieces.  She inhaled sharply and exhaled with tears streaming silently down her red and tired cheeks.  The rest of the car drive continued in that manner.

            Because of these types of events and the stories that her mother told her, of how he said she was fat and ugly caused her to hate him so passionately that this became her rebellion against the world and her anger against God.  She wondered how such a great being could have given her such a horrible father to look up to.

            I also know of a girl that is 18.  This girl does not trust the world.  She knows better than to put every thing out for public viewing.  Forever searching for a different life, a better one than the one she used to have.  Going off to college this year could be the start.  In high school, she did not have such an array of friends like the first girl did.  If any, I might guess that she only had two or three.  She saw herself as unforgivably horrifying because of her actions as a teenager.  Purposely flawed to be the bad kid.   

            This insecure girl’s relationship with her father is quite extremely different from the firsts.  She can talk and relate with her Dad, share the things going on in her life with him, can trust that he has her back and knows that his love is over bounding for her just as any parents should.  This father was strong and self-fulfilled not needing the healing nature of another being.  He knew he was and never will be perfect and has made those unforgiving but vital mistakes, which he thus recycles as lessons to softly nudge his daughter in the right direction.  

            Her parents divorced when she was two years old.  The time after the pregnancy was filled with depressive thoughts and mixed feelings for her mother.  She became an entirely different person that her father never had known and one that her daughter would become all too familiar with.  For many years her mother had told her that the divorce was caused by her fathers’ belittling words and aggressive tendencies.  However, on her eighteenth birthday and at the climax of her parents fighting, her father told her the truth.  Shortly after she had given birth, their marriage began to decline.  He could tell she was not happy in the relationship.  They even went to their pastor for marriage counseling and she lied to him and to the church that she had not cheated.  Eventually though, all lies begin to crumble and relieve the truth.  Because of that reason, they were separated and his heart was filled with hate and hers, filled with guilt. 

            I have something now to confess to you; these two girls are the same.  Yes, the same exact person.  That once loving and bubbling girl is now a searching adult.  They seem so utterly opposite that they could have never been the same, as if the past version of her might have been just a daydream.  Wonder and extreme sadness overcomes her as she thinks about where along the way she might have misplaced this treasure that was a part of her.  How could she have changed so drastically and when, where? She feels like Holden Caulfield, the main character from The Catcher in the Rye, trying to save her innocence from falling off of the edge into a deep dark hole where there is no exit.  Little does she know that it has already jumped from that place and will never see the light of day again, no matter how long she searches. 

            Everyday, she thinks that the cause of her rather strange living situation was her birth.  Her mother even once admitted, “If your father and I hadn’t of had children, we probably never would have divorced.”  Being the cause of something that she had no control over, makes her feel helpless and alone in the world like an outcast from the norms of society.  She just changed so much.  I think the reason she is still searching for her past is so that her mother and the world will love her again.

            But in all reality, was it the girl that changed or was it the people around her?