Ballerina Page 6

  I had to pry me off of her leg. She gave me a startled glance. The horrors of the inquisition were nothing compared to the fates your mind can imagine for your loved ones.

  Today is a beautiful fall day in the town is inexplicably. I felt the town, it seemed sealed off from the rest of the world, kind of an invisible force field. We were walking on the street and Sandra sighed and fanned the top of her breast. I was kind of hallucinating and groundless fear to my around, looking at the trees on the sides, feeling they do the damage in a bad blow. It seemed just like planes crush into it and falls from the sky in flaming wreckage, looking at the people who running errands in the neighborhoods are divided from their families. I had high my chin and looking weary at them, holding the reins of power keeping a horrible secret in my dark past pantry. That was not the best look of Sandra, how she was squinting at me with that look. Sandra wasn’t only my step-mom even she awoke and nudged my faithful friend. We entered a bar. We were going to have a party for my carrier to win the competition, ballet-competition. A bottle of whisky and how I took a long swallow. Rather disgusted with myself, in a lousy belch! Suddenly I felt like I extended my hand back to shake, a shock kind of a sudden attack. I got drunk and started to make a fool of myself: “how do you give a hillbilly a circumcision?” Sandra humiliated and disgusted to my behavior. I belched so loud, and then she tapped on my shoulder and started to shake me, but I turned over and loudly finished my joke: “So, kick his sister in the jaw”. Sandra struggled to decide to leave. I just patted her on the ass and with a funny voice I said: “Where do you think you’re going? The party is just started. Isn’t what you wanted! Remember?” She reflected very super natural horror, very uncomfortably, bulky and formidably complex and irresistibly compelling. Nerveless, it was a nonstop thrill ride as well as a disturbing, looking at my moving meditational, unmoral act. I was so drunk that I saw the bar was lit in a series of shutter flashes that were white and purple.

  “Is there anything left unsaid?” She said in a voice of furry that look people prying look at us. She blushed furiously as she saw me in that such a bad shape that I couldn’t even stopped to throw up before I get to the bathroom. By the time I got back, she already paid the drinks and took my hand, pulled me out of there. She drove so fast to home and helped me to bed. I was with complicated situation trying to get some sleep. I felt kind of a person seemed after multiple dirty bombs are detonated, and spread a deadly toxic ash into my nerves and inadvertently quarantining my feelings.

  Days and weeks passed through and my life was getting unexpectedly very exciting. That day over the summer, he, Ray saw me at the street and mustered up the courage to ask me to a drink. He was a black handsome guy, typically in flamboyant white suit with long curly hair. He moved his sun-glasses off of his eyes and stared for a moments into my eyes. I was kind of frightened to accept his offer. It is natural react for a girl like me who never dated so directly like this before. Well, I have been living in a danger by my past life. When a police-car driving fast with the sirens on, why his reaction was so frightened? With an entirely unmoral turning his face to that direction, that surrounded me into fearless. In second thought, I just doubtfully thought he was a fugitive. Relieving his feelings to overcome his emotional distraction, or sometimes a drug-dealer! Those thoughts accidently occurred into my mind in the first place. Drug-dealers, ideas of having an isolated populace to dominate! But in fact, he looked very polite and pretty much confident. I glanced over at his face, and he looked back at me-with no change in his expression. After careful consideration, I noticed his two front teeth were gold-capped. I believe the people who like to have the gold-teeth; they want to have a unique set of teeth that will set them apart from other people!

  Actually having gold-teeth is one of the many fads that have landed up on our shores in today’s modern times. As time went on, we became very close to each other. It was no wonder how I was terrified and suffer premonitions, confirm suspicious of a future to come! But deep in my heart howsoever, I was feeling drowning in his oceans of smile and dreaming belief of fame fortune and some future glory indeed. Life is sometimes is a risk, and I should understand, either I had to stretch these frozen moments with my fear, or I would to clout those little ingrates into shape by myself howsoever? I could imagine the futility of a relation to a fusty overcomes into me, what should I do? Fuck all that I’ve got to get on with this or looking for a miserable destiny? He looked sometimes very paranoid and, hunting his face like a cheap hotel signs in all around. Looking to in my rear view mirror, how was my life, sunk it into a nightmare of hallucination to my childish and looking at the moment, in spite of, ashes and diamonds, foe and friend, they will all equal in the end. Is it describable? He, my father, took all my over grown infant away and built a place of misery, abused me, playing his game and left me with a permanent gaze of a cold glass eye into a wasted of my life. And now THIS! What I’m doing? Focusing to descend my eyes to touch the ground and screaming to runaway to search a half-way eternity?! We were flirting. A car pulled over. He kissed me and…… After several hours, I stood there tight and amazed my eyes to the street. One week later, he called me to meet him at his place and bought me a sheer negligee. Yap that was valentine day. There, he lowered the lights a little, put on some music, opened a bottle of champagne, and we spent a lovely times together. He took my clothes off and started very smooth kissed from top to tickle my nipples with his tongue. I just closed my eyes. We had passionate sex.

  In the mind of most people, a passionate encounter is when the lady has her orgasm and the man gets his nut and the two lay there sweating and breathing hard. I believe, there are absolutely not distractions in passionate sex. He means, a passionate encounter is, a man would feed off of responses that the lady’s body gives to him. He would kiss and caress every soft and gentle curve. He would lick her in all the right places and obviously touch her the way she desires to be touched. He was so humorist and starting laughing his head off. When he turned the lighter under his cigarette, emotionally said: “This guy is walking along the beach when he kicks a bottle. Much to his surprise, a genie flies out. Oh, master, it declaims, your wish is my command. Great, thinks the guy, his chance has finally come! Genie, he demands. He offered me a cigarette and while he was putting the lighter under it, he with a very an attitude of funny sound said, do you know what he demanded? “No, what he demanded?” “Give me a cock that touches the floor”. Whereupon his legs fell off. I’ve just stumped my cigarette onto the ashtray and ran to the bathroom. There, he became agitated and worried that, he might break my feelings into the trash by saying that garbage joke or whatsoever. That made me kind of mad. But I confess to that, he is a great initially and very energetic, but directionless. Smart ambitious guy with his feet planted firmly on the ground. As matter fact, in my imagination from the first place, he was too emotional and drama queen.

  He is the door to which I found no key

  There is the veil through which I could not see

  Some little talk a while of me and thee

  There was…and then no more of thee and me.

  He tried to follow me to the bathroom, but I locked the door behind. He took a deep breath and started to walk away. I opened the door and then he turned his back to me. I was still freaking out. He did stop, but he tensed up for some reason. My eyes were glancing at all directions, kind of skeptical to the situation. Finally, he turned his eyes narrowed a bit in frustration. He walked slowly through the door, pushed it very smooth and took me in his arms. He ran his hand through my hair and tried to calm me down. Happy thoughts do always seem to work. He took me very softly under the shower, took off his clothes and pushed me gently to the wall and then grabbed on my waist and put HIS into mine, kissing from my shoulder and neck down to my breast. Before I make a sound, he put his lips on my mouth and tied his tongue up into my mouth. I let out a shaky breath through my nose and then wrapped my arms around him. For a moment I was whole
surrounded by desire of sex and love. Then he turned me around and put his nails on my back and stretched it just like a blade of knife running on my skin. That was the moment and I left it whole deep into MINE.

  With fate you still hope to trade

  Passage of time should make you afraid

  You said no color comes after dark

  I said my black hair to white degrade

  Would the delirium of pure joy in which I had dreamed away my days and nights for the last few weeks, joy that we both were too young and untried to know could not last forever, could not indeed even last long, joy so elevated in its insanity as almost to tempt some thunderbolt of malignant fate to fall upon it with destroying force, even as the highly rare field air sometimes draws on the whirlwind and the storm. I believe, I sank into a soft and romantic moments of my life to forget how the ends going to be!

  The distance between the little girl and the old man was silence. They are sitting on the bench with stony water in view. From her small bony face to the thin kinky hair was with bits of blond in it. She was wearing a simple white striped shirt, a pair of pink trousers and black shoes with white socks. The old man asked her; “are you sad”? “No” “Why you are crying”? “My friends don’t like me”. “Why”? “Because I feel I am ugly”. “Did they tell you”? “No” “But you are the nicest girl that I’ve seen in my entire life”. “Are you serious”? “I’m telling you from bottom of my heart”. The girl struggled to her feet, fell to her knees and stood up again and ran to her friends. Some minutes later the old man held his white cane like a wise old man, fidgeting with a little to trace his way forward as he walked. He walked with his head slightly raised and with a smile’s of proud-ness on his face.

  Suddenly, I saw a picture, a familiar face on the wall in his walking-closet hung behind his clothes. Without thinking, I grabbed it from the wall and stared at it, so focusing my eyes on that. Then I realized who it was. My eyes widened and I sucked in a breath in shock. As I walked out of there I saw him standing there. He took a step forward and leaned in until his face was only about three inches away from me. I was standing shocked just like a statue for a moment. He gave me a look so truculent, but I stayed strong. His eyes shut for a quick couple of seconds. I breathed with an intensity of suppressed emotion that drew all the glowing color from my crimson cheeks and lips and left they pale as marble. He lifted his face from his bosom and gazing intently in my eyes. Then I started to run off towards the door, there he grabbed my hand and pulled me into his arms. Sure enough, I was freaked out. His eyes grew even wider, anger and hatred. His hands grabbed my shoulders tightly: “You…” he started to sneer at me, but he seemed to have seen the fear in my eyes and stopped. I closed my eyes for a couple of seconds to calm down. When his grip loosened, I pulled away, taking a few steps back. I snapped, tears stinging my eyes for some reason. He was frustrated, and I could have sworn a flash a fear appeared in his eyes for a second.

  The mysteries and mesmerize of memory

  The grand garland with festooning glory

  The best rest of words and the importance enhanced

  The genuine genius, imploringly implored

  He walked to the door, and then, put his hand under my chin and very softly kind of whispering said: “Let’s put these things behind and thinking a better future you and me I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. Did you take a good look at the picture? Weird though this is, you are desperate and sure enough, you expect an explanation!” I let out a petulant grow, and looking greedily at him. Perhaps waiting to that explanation, but instead, he sneered at me and passing me to keep on walking out of the house into the street. Now, I am talking to myself “What if I turned the wrong way? I believe this better to drop the case and thinking to my future. My dream is to be a ballerina. It wouldn’t be easy to stand up him. Let it be, let it be”. I turned my face back and I saw him following me with his eyes. I growled, and my eyes narrowing.

  It started out like any other ordinary day. I sat on my window seat, just looking out at the neighborhood. Probably I was generalizing too much to the line of exaggerations. We sometimes need to hear and analyzing some thought provoking our imaginations in order to wake up from a day dream. Many of us are living under pressure and stress over a life in migration, a home country that is on fire, and a future we are not sure about. Our schema of the self, of the other, and of the world is in jeopardy. One way or another, exaggerations in our emotions, in our thoughts, and in our behaviors have to be stopped.

  Exaggerations and obsession over trivia pushes us away from rational thinking and healthy decision making. I indeed can understand that my world was swept by despair, chaos and death. Ever since I got to his house, a darkness and coldness and weight has fallen upon my spirit that I couldn’t shake off, a picture, as of some impending calamity, and as there was no calamity that can possibly affect me so much as the watching that awful picture by my own eyes. I’m naturally still think most of that. So, I could imagine that depression was only reaction fatigue! The effect of that damp, dull, dreary mind which gathered me up totally hallucination to a non-stop developing through of drowning into his,, maybe a trap? But I’m sure this is a time for me to find out my true self and get to know myself which has been neglected, and rejected for a long time. My father himself had a natural tendency to kill the souls. He tried to either play dead or acted bigger than what he was in order to cope with the inferiority feelings that he was dealing with. He, culturally, historically, socially, politically and psychologically tended to believe in many lies, although at times he knew the difference between right and wrong but his exaggeration was one of his characteristics that were creeping into his cultural. Yes, that’s true, overstatement, extremism and obsessions was some of main his characteristics for many years of his entire life. Suddenly, I saw a familiar face and cleared my mind, just concentrating at the person. When I realized who it was, my eyes widened and I sucked in a breath in shock. That was the lady with her child, one of my father’s whores at the grave-yard. That picture of same woman who is standing across the street and talking to Ray Dillon. I saw her picture at walking-closet at his house. Without thinking, I grabbed my coat and headed for the door. As I walked out my front door, the freezing chili cold wind hit my face, and I immediately covered myself.

  I hesitantly walked over the street, but, it seemed like they drew into powder in the air. I kept glancing around, thinking, I should hallucinate. How they might be disappeared so rapidly! I shake my head and rubbed my eyes. I took a deep breath and while I was heading back to my house, suddenly I saw the door was on the latch! It seemed somebody got in there. I opened it very carefully and stepped quietly into the house. Before I could make a sound, the bedroom’s door opened, made me take a stumbling back. That was Sandra. I looked at her in shock and my expression almost immediately turned into glare. I was rather confused and asked her, what she was doing so early home! She looked me straight into my eyes and said: “What do you think you’re doing? Who do you think you’re dealing with? The guy whom you met yesterday, he is totally dangerous. He is a big time drug-dealer in this town. (She plucked up a little courage and continued), I should think you would look around yourself and at least pick the right one out of all those,” I just took a deep breath and started to walk away, almost running. I was freaked out. She ran after me and grabbed my shoulder, made me turn back to her: “You won’t see him again, you got to promise me”. I just was standing there and biting my lips. My eyes got red from trying to hold in the tears I had. Exactly like the children. “You can’t be sure”, I whispered. Then she gave me a face that was so easy to believe, and again said: “You won’t see him again”. She left me there and placed her hands in her jacket pockets and walked away. I ran my hands through my hair and tried to calm down. Happy thoughts always seemed to work, except now it didn’t seem to. I was very despondent over not meeting him in quite some time. I was becoming agitated and worried that I m
ight never see him again. In hope of finding a solution to my problem, I decided to make a plan and somehow, sneak around his house hiding to figure out the fact with a tremendous skill. Perhaps I am missing that passionate sex comforting to my need, but not yet, in a good time and right moment.

  One of those nights, I couldn’t sleep, tossing myself in the bed, sliding across the sheets. That was insane I screamed to myself rolling over onto my back, glaring at the ceiling. I just took some clothes on, took a cigarette and lighted it on. I went to the window and stared my eyes onto the sky. There were billions of stars, shining, and made the sky so bright. Then I started to walk in the room, watching the floor. I was kind of roaming and rambling to follow my foot-steps. I remember my father used to say:

  Everyone who shits on you is not necessarily your enemy. Everyone who gets you out of a shitty mess, is not necessarily your friend, and if you are warm and happy in a pile of shit, keep your mouth shut.

  Then I stumped my cigarette onto the ashtray and headed to a bar, rushed from one thing to another, never setting on anything. I was kind of drunk, impetuous and flirted with everyone I faced. I made myself miserable. There were bunch of guys, sitting on one table, A black guy was sitting on the counter. A redneck called him, grudgingly forked over a hundred bill and scoffs and said: “We are going having a bet. I allow you two minutes to study the word a come up with a poem that contains the word that would be TIMBUKTU. Are you inn?” That geeky huge, burly dude with curly black hair looked furiously at the redneck with a mouth contained cigarette butts, laughing crazy at him, and he accepted the bet. First to recite his poem was the redneck. He stood up and said: