Beyond my walls

My friend Esmeralda was an avid boy lover. She would greet me with the latest news of her latest boyfriend and I would only smile or chuckle at her antics or wild gesticulations. I was silent about her problems because of my lack of experience, but she didn’t mind and would go on and on, pausing only to breathe. I met Esmeralda the first time I decided I needed a friend, when my mother grew silent and distant and I had nothing to laugh about or no one to deliver the day’s news to. It was the third year of high school; I sat beside her, staring at a scar that slid down her cheek. She caught my stare and frowned which took me back a little, but immediately after she smiled. I responded and after that we walked hand in hand, while she chatted away. she spilled her secrets and I listened in silence, enjoying the sound of a voice, the feel of a hand and the return of a smile.

She never asked me about my life, only once when she wanted to lunch with me and I silently shook my head. I guess my expression was so sad that she didn't press the matter; we didn't speak about my home life after that.  

 

At nights, after our monotonous dinner. I began to silently leave the house. The December cold was picking up, but this was nothing to me. I embraced the cold, wrapped it around me like a fleece blanket, I pulled it closer each time it got colder, because it never left, it never changed, and as bitter as it was, it stayed the same that’s why I loved it so. The night was darker than usual, so dark that I couldn't see my hands in front of me. The sound of the patoos gave me a slight chill, but I would rather be afraid than sit on my spring bed watching the flicker of the candle. As soon as my fears came, they left. I was too caught up in my thoughts to care about a shuffle or a squeak. The only fear I had, was for my mother because she is so strange. Her dragged movements reminded me of ghost stories. I feared knowing that she was in the other room. I feared the look in her hollow eyes and the confused expression she had, neither angry nor happy.

I didn't think about her out here, here I thought about a boy I had seen with a face so smooth and handsome that I made me unsure of whether I was breathing or not. I couldn't tell Esmeralda, because she would only tease me, and I just wasn't sure how to put the words into sentences. His skin reminded me of grounded coffee, a complexion so brown and beautiful. His eyes didn't shine; they sparkled, even in broad daylight. His voice so manly, yet delicate, it made tiny Goosebumps run down my arms. I wanted him to speak to me, not just wait in anticipation for him while I stood for no particular reason, waiting for a bus that didn't exist, just to be closer to him and listen to his idle chatter.

He didn’t see me, I wasn’t sure if anyone saw what I did, why Esmeralda didn’t question my standing when she knew I didn’t take the bus; but everything flowed, as if God was working along with me, and making sure I was somewhat happy.

When he left, I would walk away, sometimes before, but I didn’t like to see him leave so on most occasions I did so first. While walking home, I would smile and feel so light and free. Nature is one of the most calming aspects of my hectic life, my roaming thoughts and the depressing silence that encircles my house. There is always a light breeze that I could count on in the late afternoons and the winter sun gently easing from view to make way for the sunset that would permeate throughout the sky and spread its breath- taking glow for the broken hearted, to heal until darkness consumed them. What was most important to me was the healing, because for even a minute I could feel something that rose from my toes and into my heart, something that made me smile.

After my boggled thoughts were finally emptied, I would remove the stiff polyester uniform and bathe in the tingling effect of the material. Evening baths in the cool water, left by mother was one of my precious moments. The water was like silk and I had no responsibilities or obligations. I would only stretch my long legs and run the cool, majestic liquid all over me. The familiar squeak of the door would take me out of my stupor, my mother’s every movement can be heard from outside. I only sat still and listened to her timid steps as she opened my door and realized that I wasn’t there. I could see her face, the slight tilt of her jaw, looking at the uniform; she would inspect the room with careful, dull eyes. I could hear the cautious shut of my door, and I would stir the water, now cold and hard to calm her nerves.

She would then move to the kitchen, I could always hear the bang of pots and dishes and my heart would break because I didn’t know who my mother was and why we couldn’t love each other. Why we couldn’t hold hands on Sunday evenings and lick ice-cream scurrying down our hands, making it our personal joke while others stared. I didn’t know how to tell her about the strange boy that stood near to me, but never sees me and it makes me hurt, or tell her that my math was so hard it made me cry, but joyously report that next day that I passed. She would hug me so tight that I couldn’t breathe, but it would be the most comfortable suffocation. I want to ask my mother why she hurts so much and why the fire has stop fuelling, and then I would feel the water get cold and my skin starting to feel dry.

It was these days that I wished that the sunset would stay forever. I wrapped the towel around my tiny frame, my head instinctively turned and I watched the glow from the window at the house beside us. The mother's shaky arms was scraping food into the young child’s face, she was banging the fork on the table and they were all singing a folk song, one I didn’t know the lyrics to, then the child bounced  and the food fell. The dog quickly devoured the treat, the mother shook her head angrily, then her expression changed and they began laughing. I had selfishly hoped that she would hit the child or quarrel, to make that child hurt like me and for once I wouldn’t feel so cold and alone in a towel, standing in the dark.

Reviews

[Piper]

This was so amazing! I just hope that there can be some sort of continuation on this because the character development of the main character and her feelings towards her mother is so intriguing!

[ReneeJ]

Thank you so much :)

[Lorna]

This is one of the best pieces I've ever read in this site, to be quite honest. Your style is so peaceful and graceful. You have a good balance between detail and leaving some of the images up to the imagination. Your description of the handsome man (possible love interest?) was just lovely.
Really, really good job. Please keep going with this.

[ReneeJ]

I am motivated more than ever. Thank you for your kind words

[Pax]

You have beautiful ways in words. Your thoughts are simply cute and beautiful in a sad way... it was intriguing short story, i wonder what she and her mom become apart from each other, so near but like strangers in their own home... There was a tinge of hope in every thoughts, hope that everything will be alright, hope that life will straighten out as she goes on living being positive... a bitter-sweet piece...

[ReneeJ]

Thank you :)