Kayla had a serious thing for Andes Mints. Her crazy mother had always been a bit of a nut about not letting her have them. Or any other sweet. It sounds totally silly but one of the things that she loved about Edward's was her Andes Mints. As i've mentioned before we shared a room when i was at the house. We each had a twin sized bed and there was a small chest of drawers between the two beds. On that sat a fruit bowl which John kept full of individually wrapped mints for Kayla. Edward believed very much that these sorts of small indulgences should be encouraged. Catered to. i couldn't have candy due to my disgraceful shape but there were other things i enjoyed. On the other side of my sweet pink bed my vanity stood. It was where i got ready for dates. At any given time there was a book i hadn't read in the bottom drawer and a pint (only a pint, i couldn't stay truly drunk, its bad for business) of black velvet was always on the very back of the vanity. What i can't stop thinking about is how these silly little things made our lives bearable. i can't help but picture Kayla black and blue and covered in crusted welts dip her hand into that dish. And my own reflection as i tipped my bottle, a book in my other hand. The human spirit will hold on to any scrap you give it.
i thought i could do this but i can't. i cannot seem to re-enter that basement. i'll keep trying, but, so far no luck. We'll be switching gears. Another track. Something when i was older.
Later that day i went back to Mama and Daddy's house. Mama had not been at the hospital, which i found odd. If Daddy had a favorite it was Vanessa, and if Mama had one it was Marcie. How could Marcie be so sick and Mama not be there? i found out why.
She always kept her hair done and wore her makeup just so. Her nails were always painted to match her clothing and she was a striking woman. But, on this day my mother sat listless at the kitchen table with her hair matted to head in unbrushed snarls. Her face was a mask of agony and no color graced her cheeks or lips. She looked like a shell. When i spoke to her, she didn't respond. She was as locked away from me as Marcie.
That night i spent in Granddaddy's bed, and when i woke there, i was disoriented. i was tied only by one wrist to the bed rail, but i knew better than to untie it. Instead i lay there, waiting for my release. Which surprisingly came quickly. He rushed in muttering and cursing, never a good sign. He untied my arm and barked at me to go get in the bathtub. We had to go to the hospital. It was Marcie (that stupid little cunt, he called her.) She had over dosed.
Marcie lay in the hospital bed with scary looking tubes and cords and machines hooked to her. She didn't open her eyes when i called her name, or smile, or respond at all. i was made to leave her room almost as soon as i entered it. i didn't understand what coma meant, but i did know Marcie would not be coming to check on me.
i have not disappeared, i'm sick. Extremely sick. Shoot me now, kinda sick. As soon as i'm able to sit up more than two minutes, i'll pick back up with Friday's post. Right now i'm just not able to fool with it. ugh.
Okay, so i forgot to give you yesterday's post. Duh.
Here is a combo of yesterday's and today's.
i crept down the steps from the attic sometime later and Mama and Daddy were sitting at the kitchen table talking. i hid behind the coats that hung on the end of the banister and listened. They said that Granny had broken her hip and had a mild concussion. She would need a lot of physical therapy and would have to stay in a nursing home for a while to get that therapy. Mama said she could maybe take some time off work and keep me at home. Daddy said he didn't think that was a good idea, he didn't want to see her fall apart again and her to fetch up back in the hospital. They debated what to do with me back and forth for some time. i held my breath, two strongly held beliefs warring with each other. i did NOT want to be alone with my Granddaddy for months. But, i also knew i deserved it.
Eventually i fell asleep there on the bottom stair. i was just worn out. Next thing i knew, my Mama was waking me up to tell me that i was going back to stay with my Granddaddy. She said she'd call every couple of days and that Marcie or someone would come by every couple of days to check on me. i nodded numbly. i tried to imagine life without Granny and it was what i thought of as hell. But, my imagination fell far short of the actuality.
Here is yesterday's. i am so sick of blogger being such a bitch.
Things moved into a confusing whirlwind for a while, that i only remember in vague pieces. The men carried Granny away. my father and Marcie arrived shortly after and Granddaddy and Daddy left for the hospital. Marcie sent me to take a bath and wash the blood off. We crawled into my bed but Marcie couldn't stand the confines of that house and loaded me into Granny's car. When next i awoke, i was in bed with Marcie at Mama and Daddy's house. i snuggled close to her and stroked my guilt at my Granny's horrible accident like a sore tooth. Once it was inflamed into a monster of self hatred i got up and went to the bath room. i took down Daddy's box of straight razors and used one on my thighs. Punishing myself for hurting my Granny. For destroying her with her love for me. When my Mama beat on the door, i hid the razor, mopped up the blood, and scurried off to hide.
Granddaddy crawled off me and stuffed something in my mouth. Tied there, spread eagle on the bed, i heard him exclaim, "Oh fuck!" and then run to the telephone. i couldn't make out his conversation but i knew it was bad. i wished for the house to cave in and suck me straight to hell. It was my fault, she was looking for me. He came back and yanked at my binds. i lay there, waiting for him to tell me what to do. "Goddamn you, get dressed, they'll be here any minute!" i got out of bed and pulled my gown back on. Filled with dread i peeked out of his room and saw my granny sprawled on the ground next to my rollaway bed. Her head was bleeding and a pool of blood was forming around her lower body. i crept close to her and kissed her forehead. "i'm sorry Granny," i whispered to her as the sirens came closer. Granddaddy drug me away from her when the flashing lights flooded the windows and lit up the little house that was my prison even then. Her blood had soaked into the bottom of my gown and it camouflaged my own blood that was trickling down my legs. i thought she was dead until she moaned when the men put her on the stretcher. Her hip bone was exposed and sticking out of her skin. i turned my head away and cried. i cried for her, i didn't know the ocean of tears i would cry for myself while she was away.
And, i did. After a while the door opened and his knarled out hand motioned at me. i was well trained, i got up and went to him. The door closed behind me and i heard the clack of the lock. And i paid. And, paid. i wasn't noisy, but he got a little loud. We were so focused (me on the pain and him on his pleasure) that neither of us heard her approach. But, we did hear the scream when she fell. We heard the thud of her landing. And, then, horribly, we heard nothing.
He yanked on the sheet and got it untied from my wrist, hissing at me, "You got scared and came got in bed with me." Seconds later, the door opened and Granny asked, "Babygirl, you alright? What are you doing in here?" So i lied. i told her i got scared. She clucked with sympathy and shooed me out in front of her. "Let Granny make you some hot chocolate." Granddaddy snorted and told her to go back to bed. She cussed him for an old fool and told him to shut up. i hopped out of the bed and left the room in front of her, turning to see her glare at him before slamming the door. She shuffled along behind me to the kitchen and made me hot chocolate. And, although i sipped as slowly as i could, eventually there was no more hot chocolate. She tucked me back into my rollaway bed and kissed my cheek. i listened to her shuffle back to her own bed. Heard the springs groan as she settled in, and with mounting terror heard her breathing grow heavy as she relaxed into sleep. i knew he would come for me. And, i knew i would pay.
When i was five i was sleeping on a rollaway bed in the living room because my room had just been painted and i had terrible allergies. my Granny could put her bed up and see me. i felt much safer and snuggled into bed and fell away into a very deep sleep. The kind i didn't get very often. Sometime in the night, my Granddaddy came and drug me out of my haven. When he woke me up i gave a small cry. He slapped me and i shut up immediately. i followed him to his bedroom with that familar feeling of sick dread. He was tying the sheets to my wrists when we heard my Granny call, "Babygirl?" Granddady groaned with frustration and yanked out a small clump of my hair. "Don't make me take you to the basement cunt."
So, today is the third, and i said i would return on the third, so here i am. :D
This week i'm going to work on a rather long story about my grandfather. Might take a while to tell. Be patient, i'll do my best, but it may make very little sense. If you have questions, ask. i'm going to try to cover more of my Granddaddy this year. That shit is where the whole mess started. What drove me insane to begin with. Makes sense to me if i want to STOP being insane (and oh boy, do i ever) i need to DEAL with that shit.
Thanks to everyone who left me good wishes, and for being so patient while i dealt with my holiday nutsiness. Getting better now. Ready to get back to stomping my demons into submission.
