Wednesday, March 31, 2010

endless rain inside a paper cup- fiona apple style

The first time she stole something(a watermelon-flavored lollipop), she hid it in the drawer. The drawer was one of two bedside tables, and it was her everything. It served as a bookshelf, a desk, a safe, a mantle. The versatility of her spirit was thus apparent from an early age. She would sit there, reading, drawing, over and over again. Once, her older sister had a friend over, and while they danced to Ace of Base, she tried her best not to look and laugh, drawing circles that pointed to nowhere. Her sister had asked her to leave, to save them both from embarrassment. And that one dreadful winter, when she was too sick to go out and play in the snow. She stood by her desk in a fuzzy bathrobe, looking out her window on the second floor. Her baby brother caught her attention, and made a snow angel for her in earnest. Couldn't have been more than 5 years old, and he loved her so much.

She picked up habits like they were memory stones (ones that remind you of places you've been) and pretty soon, she was sleeping like her mother and smoking like her daddy. Her fingers scraped crumbly-textured walls as she watched herself do things like drink sour milk and be a lover to people who slept with their backs to her. The future promised floral prints and sinking toe nails into wet, squishy mud.
'I'm not scared of forever'
'And I don't think there is such a thing'
She often overlooked his short-sighted pessimism and logic because she knew happier times were just around the corner. They just had to get there. And she didn't care where she was going or what was going to happen, or if they ever got there in the end at all. As long as he was riding shotgun.

1 comment:

Dreaminglass said...

I feel as if I've read this all before.

Wonder why.