"May I Share My Story?" -No Christ in Iene-

All she wants is for the past to go away. “In your eyes, I can see everything you’ve been through.” She wants to stop feeling the pain. “That’s because, I’ve been on the ride going through it right a long with you. How unselfish pain is, sonofabitch don’t know how to keep it’s sorrows to itself.”
It’s the pain that makes her do, and not think. It’s pain that she now holds in her hand. “Cold blooded godly pain. Or is it godly? Perhaps you are of another deity.” The type of pain made to take lives and make people sorrow. Would people sorrow if she allowed this pain to consume her? She figured that answer would be no. “God is the one who owes me, not these people here. I’m done trying to make them pay for something that they would have never dared try to afford.” With her eyes closed she began to think back on why her life was now so necessary to be triggered to sleep. All she wanted to do was sleep, and not be awoken into a world with so many necessary evils. “Look how pretty you look, but just a little bit more makeup.” One last time with her eyes closed, she relives those memories that took the her out of her.
“I haven’t had a clear mind ever since my heart beat lost its sound. But what is a heart? Shit, what is love?” For her, it’s 15 minutes, that’s all she needs. That and some weed and the past becomes numb. She’s convinced herself, that this is what was necessary for her to feed the desire she has of being wanted by someone else, because she doesn’t want that responsibility, to want herself. “What would I be able to do with me? Shit, these men who claim their dicks give them power, are only able to handle me for a limited amount of time. For the first half hour, they’re gladiators, while the next 30, they’re all curled up with their thumb in their mouth, pitiful.”
That same anxious desire of an orphan. She gave herself up for adoption a long time ago, when she could no longer withstand the decisions she made in life, or the lifestyle that was thrown on her which forced her to make most of those decisions. “I was always left with the short end of the stick, even as a kid on recess.”
She hasn’t heard from her father for 2 years now. “It’s alright”, is what she continues to convince herself. “He’s living the life that was meant for him. If God didn’t plan on me being included in that well, I can’t fight it. It’s cool.” She trained the voice in her head to consistently remind her that a man is someone you get to enjoy in your life for a brief moment, and then he must leave. A man must always stay on the move. In her experience, that’s what they all did. Though at times she would become vulnerable to her feelings, that’s when she’d call for that voice. “I saw him one time, and i believe he seen me. No words were said, it was just a stare. It was like we were both trying to figure out if our eyes were really seeing who we thought it was, at the same time, trying to force denial into our minds. I was content, I didn’t need to hear his hello or the routine line of I’m sorry for missing so many years. I’m actually grateful I never got that.”
Her mom died not too long after her father left. “She died loving a man. Just having me in her life wasn’t enough for her. She was still lonely, she had no one to hold her, and she was afraid to take any chances with what the new world now had to offer. Reality shows made her repellent. So she left me some cash, the apartment, some food in the fridge and then she said”, “If in the next life I birth you again, or if I end up being your offspring, I promise to do better.” And then her mother was gone… She hasn’t gone to visit her and it’s been a year since the incident. She knows that the next time she does see her, she won’t be able to call her mom. “I thank you for all that you’ve given me mom. Your eyes, your smile, your hair, and the no fucks given. Really, thank you. It would’ve made it impossible for me to be me without it.
Small girl in a big world. The devils playground, now her playground. School never made up for the lessons she should have learned from her parents. “I left that shit along with the kids that were forced to be subjects of an institution. I didn’t need that shit, and shit, neither do they; but they still have parent’s who they need to impress. I ain’t got shit to prove to nobody but my got damn self.”
She needed to learn how to survive, and the only way she concluded that she’d be able to, was if she experienced it for herself, and learned how to survive.
Home from home to home. From family homes to the homes of friends. All were temporary stays. While staying with family, it didn’t take long for them to start complaining how they didn’t have enough money to keep supporting her. Some friends became enemy’s, while the rest well, they were good to her and offered for her to stay with them but by now, she was more familiar & comfortable with being on the move. “I can no longer remain still, every stay is temporary, so I must always be ready to take four step ahead into my next move.”
Now she’s in a new city, on another path. Moved into an apartment with 2 other girls who thinks they’ll all be good friends forever. “I don’t mind, perhaps it’ll make my stay here easier. Dear mom, wherever you are, I met a guy, a nice guy, his name’s Ivan, but I don’t plan on him in being any way a contribution to my death, if whenever I shall die, as countless men have buried you. Unless you are reborn by now, you still haven’t gotten your life back, and you never will. So this guy will just be an occasional fuck.” He’s temporary, they’re temporary, the city she’s in, once again, is temporary.
“”Oh but he makes love to me so good. I guess that’s what it is because, it’s just so damn intimate and intense. The way he holds me, is like he’s making my body at one with his. He licks and sucks on every part of my body, treating me as if I’m his goddess or something, making my toes curl. Ugh! I love it, but I don’t love him. I can’t… I can’t risk it. I can’t risk being like her. The biggest mistake he’ll ever make in life is mistakenly loving me. I did not choose this life, this life chose me. I’m sorry Ivan. You’ll meet you goddess one day king.”
However, months have now passed, and her truth to herself to never feel life, was now broken. Now she was able to feel a heart beat, and there was no town nor city, where she would be able to flee to, for her to escape this. “Nobody knows this but me… Ok.” The little people know, the easier she can breathe is her motto. “I’m a moth in a butterflies world. Yes you are.” Her name is Christiene, named after her grandmother who was a slave. and had reinvented the family tree with her master.
“So as the story goes, for me, my family tree starts at grandma Iene & her master Clement. Fuck that, he was no master, he was no god, but she allowed him to be. Whoever that sonofabitch was, nobody would ever catch me claiming him in my family line. I always wished that I had new more when I was a kid, but when I got older, I quit giving a fuck about that too.” Whoever Christiene’s grandfather was, she nor anyone else in her family had any knowledge of his name or whatever came of him. All was known was that he was managed to escape with Harriet Tubman through the Underground Railroad.
She feels as if she has her grandfathers spirit. She too is on her Underground Railroad. Escaping from the life that she felt kept her captive in a place she fought hard not to believe was her reality.
She wonders if he’s here now, back in this moment. Was he holding a figure of pain in his hands too? Did he decide to get answers from the same person she held responsible for her own life?
“If you’re here, and I’m not supposed to do this, stop me. If you’re here, that means you’ve been there, if so, I want you to tell him, make sure my boy never grows up learning who I was.”
She opens up her eyes and saids, “Mirror, mirror, if only I could trade places with you. You don’t know how pleasantly it is for you to just be a reflection and not the real thing. Yet, I assume there is sorrow in you for what you do. Seeing now what you get, after you mock misery. Ain’t karma a bitch?”
Pain in her hands… She pulls its trigger.


“Baby, I hope that when you dream about me, you see who I was always afraid to be. I love you.”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s