Authors note: Hello, Im going to publish in installations! Also am trying to finish the ones I started! I cannot figure out italics so if something is said without quotations it's a thought rather then spoken. Enjoy!
My father's funeral was a sea of black, the monotony was the very opposite of his vibrant essence and the whole scene felt forced.
People took to the stand stepping up to memorialize a man that spent his nights drunkenly sobbing because he felt utterly alone. Fake emotions and crocodile tears from people I haven't seen nor heard from since I was a child. I couldn't bear it.
My fathers sole friend, Cambridge, uttered a curse as my long standing absentee mother took the stage. I couldn't help but flinch from the first words out of that walking tragedy's mouth.
"God sure is good, isn't he?" A slick smile took over her wicked face. "About time he curdled over, I was worried I'd be too old to enjoy the money!"
Merciless humor that many took part in at the expense of their soul and my broken heart.
Cambridge stood up and had her escorted out immediately, her fading shouts creating a muck about the room. ''You stupid bitch! You were probably fucking him the whole time like the lecherous whore you are!"
Cambridge just sucked her tongue in distaste and ended the funeral. It was clear that we should've been the only ones here. I could hear the echoes of whispers around me as I gathered my things and exited. Rumors mostly and yet still, I listened.
"I have heard about that Cambridge leaving his home late at night." One woman looking for gossip quietly spoke to another.
"Heard about it? I've personally seen it. She's a whore just like her mother, and just like that poor child is going to be." She shook her drooping chins.
"Oh heavens! I've forgotten about the child, where will she go?"
I kept pace with them trying to seem uninterested as I listened.
"That I don't know, maybe with the mother."
"Oh, well that closes the book then doesn't it?" they both laughed muffling it behind their gloves and hats. I fell back then, swallowing the hard pill of reality.
I think about those words, more so the venom behind them. It came to be hurtful and left behind a sore for me to feel when I was most lonely. I attempted to not turn bitter about the whole process and tried to focus solely on getting away from this God-forsaken place that was harboring every heartbreak I'd ever known. The air stuck in your throat like a dry shirt.
I was to be traveling to Theresa when the summer months came around. With my father gone and my mother incapable of loving me, he had arranged for me to live with a close friend of his from childhood. I pleaded with Cambridge but she couldn't afford herself much less me, a struggle I was kept from and unfamiliar with, and I- regrettably in hindsight, burned our bridge. I felt as though if she had really loved me she would have tried. I see my flaw in that now.
I was worried, as a woman ought to be in joining a household I was foreign to, but what could I do? Stay here in Albany? I couldn't. Not without my father.
My birthday came and went, and so did the sadness of losing the last piece of my heart. I couldn't have formed a smile if I had wanted to. My face in likeness to my heart were indeed frozen. Cambridge shipped off to America, and I was left alone to pack away the things I wanted to keep and I sold what was left.
The deed was to be signed over but my mother was blocking the process like the soulless creature she was. She had received nothing but a parchment enclosing the words "Fuck You" from his will and testament written lovingly by his dying hands yet she believed she deserved every penny he had to his name solely based upon the fact that they were still in technicalities married.
He passed on everything to me saving a quarter for Cambridge, she warned me not to be alone as she sailed off leaving me exactly as she told me not to be. I became vigilant in her words after noticing large men dogging me in the marketplace. They're vicious eyes sent chills down my spine yet their looks put chills in other places. At first I tried to not believe my mother would hurt me but as I sat for a mere moment I decided not to put it past her.
I was kept at a sisterhood for the springtime where I was abused, barely fed and molested. I lost my taste for God during my time there. He was not here anymore, and if he was he was someone I didn't think deserved an inkling of the devotion he asked for. The months aged me like years and I could feel my sanity slipping as though it was a leather strip in oiled hands.
I kept close to me, clutched in my hand, nearly at every moment the address and name of the woman I was to live with. I stared at it as if it was some miracle paper designed to keep me intact. I reread the words and traced the letters with my fingertips every night for hours committing the form to memory and ingraining it in my heart. This is why I kept pushing, this is why I'm still here.
My last evening here I was returning the cutlery from supper, a daily chore I was to execute, when my habit had gotten caught on a loose nail on the wall. I was tired of the thing truly so I tore it off and stuffed it under my arm. My hair was netted tightly in a wrap so it really did not matter. The men however felt differently about the fact.
I was grabbed roughly around the neck and shoved against the wall in a darkened corner. The cutlery spilled about and my hands gripped the assailant's forearm trying to pry him off of me.
"Are you not a woman of god?" He screamed at me. "Only sinners forsake their habit," his tongue rolled up my neck and cheek and I nearly vomited but chose to scream instead. The other woman about looked the other way and I lost respect for anyone who lived underneath a faith. "Should I show you how a sinner ought to be treated." He grunted as he molested my chest.
I pounded away at the beast but he never waivered. He pulled out his fat short cock and masturbated to me, his cum spilled out across the front of my lap as he spit in my eye and dropped me walking off as if it never happened. As if he didn't just ruin a portion of my life.
The trip to Theresa was jarring and almost unbearable. If it wasn't for my chauffer's service dog and what was awaiting me if I ever went back I would've dismissed the ride as soon as I laid eyes on the wretched thing. There wasn't anything I couldn't complain about except that I had my cellphone back and that I was more than alive to leave that disgusting place behind me forever.
I paid for my own room when staying overnight at an inn, I trusted no man and wanted to never see another again for a while. I locked and bolted the doors and windows leaving the light on throughout the night. It was sleepless but I felt a semblance of safety which was something it seemed I hadn't experienced in a long while. I cried most of it, but I somehow still felt better.
When we reached my destination I was left on the side of the road like garbage with the driver speeding off like hell on wheels. It was just before nightfall which made me much more anxious than I thought it would have. I had arrived at a very grand home which I wasn't expecting at all as I was told they were humble introverts living in the most secluded part of town. I had an intrusive thought that she was probably a serial killer, or a monster.
I sat my trunks up properly as they had been literally tossed from the car cursing out the air around me as I began the lengthy walk towards the doors. I tugged on the hem of my skirt feeling uneasy. I missed my father a lot in this moment. I realized just then that I would be introducing myself. I sent a silent prayer upwards and took my first step towards a new beginning.
I noticed while I walked to the doors that the garth was expansive. It covered nearly the whole court, allowing room to walk through of course but I was staring into hip high shrubbery as far as I could see. There were at least fifteen various breeds of flowers and roots in their gardens. All impeccable and healthy. This provoked me to pause and fix my outfit worried that I might be dealing with a control freak. I wanted to be as pleasing for my first impression as possible. I rapped on the door lightly as so not to make such a commotion and they fell open quite eerily.
