Breathe of Fresh Air

A sarcastic saga of a girl who tends to notice the humorous and ironic side of life

I visit my sister at her apartment every weekend. She shares this
apartment with my brother, and his girlfriend who happens to also be my
best friend Lisa. Then there's Trent the type of friends who says exactly
what you want to hear but don't let him fool you when he speaks your ears
are just betraying you. We used to have a thing, Trent and I, it was
insignificant, he was just the first guy I ever loved and then he had sex
with our best friend’s recent ex girlfriend, they had dated for two years…
like I said it was nothing. They live on a confused street on the east
side of Poughkeepsie, filled with displaced beings; old couples with no
place else to go, poor black families who can’t afford anything else, and
college kids who wanted to be free of their families and landed themselves
here, on Hammersley avenue, not quite urban yet not quite suburban. I’d
say we were the latter.
          Their little piece of paradise consists of a two floor house,
split into two separate apartments; the upstairs, which my
family inhabits and the down stairs where fortunately and
unfortunately some friends of ours live. The upstairs has two
balconies. One offers a scenic view of the backyard, which would
seem spacious only to prisoners at Guatanomo Bay. The one in the
front gives a picturesque view of the street and fellow run-down
houses. These (wonderful) sights can be yours too; that is if
you can muster up the (nerve) to even stand on the balconies.
Although I don't see why anyone would be scared. I mean it's the
same wood that's been there since it's construction in the early
1900's. It’s withstood hundreds of rainstorms, pounds of snow
toppled on it and a few tornados, it hasn’t fallen yet. That has
to be a good sign.
        I walk through the front door. I have my own key. They all think
its odd but I can’t help it; when you have nothing you always need
to at least pretend to be apart of something. I walk up each
creaking step and at the top I find to my utmost displeasure Trent
and his new girlfriend sucking each others faces off. Now of
course I have no animosity towards either of them. None, I swear,
but I feel it completely relevant to tell you the story of their
fairy tale first date. It all started with a shot of tequila; but
don’t all great love stories? Well, one shot turned to two and
then three and then this girl spends the night in Trent’s room and
they make bittersweet, sloppy, drunken love to each other. The
next morning their holding hands and feeding each other Ben and
Jerry’s out of the carton. Sure, I’ll hold on, you must need to
throw up now. Silly me, I should have told you not to eat anything
before you read this. Eventually, they turn the vacuums off and
pull their faces off each other. Trent’s girlfriend asks me,
“Are you o.k.? You look like you’re going be sick.” Damn, I must have let
my repulsion show; usually I’m better than this.
“I just witnessed a train wreck.” I reply.
“Oh my god! That’s horrible, is everyone all right?” She asks eagerly. I
almost feel bad but not quite.
“No, they’re not gonna make it.” Before she can respond I bolt into the
guest room. It’s about a 10ft by 10ft room but it’s my sanctuary. I can be
alone here. Like I said on the weekends I’m here, but during the week I
stay with my mother, as little as I possibly can mind you. She’s has more
issues then Playboy and solves them with Bacardi. So, I try and stay as
much as possible with my boyfriend, Ray, who I love more than anything
else in the world, and that ladies and gentlemen is the only truly honest
statement I have made in this whole story. He’s the only person I feel
truly comfortable with but even that’s being compromised ever since he had
to move back in with his parents. So here’s the count, I have three houses
I stay at and no home. However, I do have this pathetic excuse for a room,
which as of now is all I need.
         I hear the front door open, my sister must be home. I rush out of
my room and past Trent’s now locked shut bedroom door. It seems
the lovetards must be taking their affections to private
quarters. Wow, you really are a just and loving God. I enter the
kitchen just in time to find my sister chugging down a near liter
of milk. That’s all you really need to know about her; well that
and she falls asleep watching Freddie Krueger and Steven King
movies, hates the word bloated, is obsessed with the Beatles 40
years too late, and wants to move to of all places Canada when
she retires, not too mention plans to have her ashes thrown over
Niagara Falls when she dies...
“Oh, you’re here!” She says excitedly. She’s been lonely lately; her
boyfriend has been in basic training for the last few months. “Well I have
some interesting news to tell you.” She says, for Megan, interesting could
be anything.
“What is it?” I reply, slightly wary.
“Lisa’s younger sister is moving in, I guess she’s having problems with
her family.”
“oh.” That’s all I can muster. She will have to stay in the guest room;
it’s only fair if she will be paying rent. I can’t even get mad. I have no
claim over that room, it’s not mine. I’m just a visitor, just like I just
visit my mom and just visit my boyfriend. My eyes are starting to water.
My sister asks,
“What’s wrong?”
“Allergies.” I lie. “I’m just going to go stand outside.”
          As I walk past Trent’s room the door opens. I stop. He’s in just
his boxers and I can see his girlfriend asleep in his bed. “You
look so beautiful today.” He says smiling. I can only stare at
him. He smiles, winks at me and shuts the door. I keep walking,
and now I’m going to be sick. I get to my room; well it’s not my
room anymore. I’m dizzy. I need to go outside. As the tears
start to overwhelm me I walk onto the front balcony, old
faithful. Then, do you know what that God damn balcony did? It
broke. It’s been through a hundred years of hell and stood
strong and then some stupid girl takes a few steps on it for
some fresh air and that son of a b***h balcony crumbles. It
crumbles right underneath my feet.

Author's Note

I'm still not happy with it so any ideas and criticism would be greatly appreciated!

Reviews

[Gandré]

I totally adored this "which would
seem spacious only to prisoners at Guatanomo Bay." -------what a humor. It makes it easier when such humorous sentences are inserted to a very serious topic.
"when you have nothing you always need
to at least pretend to be apart of something." ---------another great lines. So true. We all can relate to this..
it might be the self-rescue mechanism in us; the connection to the possessions is for some very exciting, when they put themself into the scene of their fancy home, it is their modus how to keep the inner balance perhaps, we don't know. The other interesting modus is to belong to someone like a group of friends or organisation or family members...then we feel "we possess something" at least the feeling of belonging somewhere. This was psychologicaly very interesting sentence you wrote.
I found it very sensitive woman's stuff - writing you produced here. The style was easy going and refreshing. (thanks for reading my Innocence poem, your review is much appreciated.) L.Gandr�