It's Full of Firsts

It began at your first cry at the sight of light.

It continued to your first hug, your first steps, your first words, your first day in kindergarten, your first friend, your first tear, your first laugh, your first best friend, your first homework assignment, your first recess, your first school picture, your first sport, your first late project, your first detention, your first kiss, your first graduation, your first day of high school, your first job, your first essay, your first class skipped, your first drink, your first boyfriend, your first heartbreak, your first cigarette, your first party, your first broken bone, your first joint, your first drug, your first license, your first car, your first hospital visit, your first hookup, your first application, your first acceptance, your first prom.

It will continue with your first university class, your first all-night party, your first professor, your first vacation, your first career, your first dinner party, your first fiancée, your first baby book, your first child, your first child's name, your first family thanksgiving, your first time being Santa Claus, your first time being the Easter Bunny and the Toothfairy, your first wedding, your first mother’s day, your first child's birthday party, your first child's argument, your first PTA meeting, your first career change, your first divorce, your first grandchild, your first funeral, your first suprise party, your first retirement.

It will end at your first sight of the new light.

Evil Twin

Two faces morphed into one.

Eyes connect and memories flood of late night binges and the needle pricks. She looks away and the devil on her shoulder leaves as she becomes herself again. Eyes flashing, they draw her to look again, to shoot again. Inner battles raging she spies the needle on the floor beside her. As she leans down to pick it up eye contact is broken and she quickly stands up and runs out the door. Shaking and sobbing she fights to win the battle. Her eyes dart backwards towards the house, stopping on the window. Angry eyes stare back daring her, taunting her, threatening her to go back as she finds herself cowering on the curb. She picks up a rock and heaves it through the window aiming for the evil inside. Glass shatters as the rock crashes through it, breaking the face. She runs inside and hides under the bed, shaking. Looking out from underneath she spies the eyes again, staring at her, hating her. Taking a blanket out of the closet she throws it towards the mirror, covering the eyes. In that split second she feels alive, strong.

Not only did she fight her inner demon, but she destroyed her. 

Dark and Light

“Without darkness, nothing grows; without light nothing flowers.”

Three years later, with all her boxes packed, her acceptance letter beside her, she sees the scar. She remembered that the deep gash on her arm had turned green and white, with the outskirts a hideous shade of blue. Her muscles recoiled as she recalled the scene. She hadn’t meant to irritate him and she hadn’t meant to cause such a rift and she only wanted it to end. As she spoke the disastrous words ending their two years his eyes flashed and his arm lashed out, the shiny metal blade piercing her sensitive skin. Her eyes watered as she remembered the pain in his face as he watched the blood pool around him. She remembers the downhill spiral she was captured in for those two years, the acceptance that her life was ruined. She remembers the streets, littered with trash, the less dirty places being her bed for the night. She remembers the lack of food, the lack of warmth. She remembers the happiness of being free from his grasp. She remembers her feeling of independence. She remembers that with that independence she applied to university. She remembers all this, as a contrast to her life now. Jason sleeping beside her, his warm body a comfort to the nightmares she faces. The look on his face when she got her acceptance letter, the look on his face when she said she’d move with him to Chicago.

He stirs, looks at her, smiles and whispers “I love you”.

She smiles back and whispers “you saved me.”

Peace

The wind is now

a roaring, smashing

monster of destruction,

raking all man's work

from the valleys,

from the hills,

and sends them spinning,

broken flying -

but all of that is

not its core,

its center is in truth

eternal stillness

bright blue skies

and all you hear

are gentle whispers

far away

and unimportant.

Compassion

I see her.

She couldn’t have been more than 10. Her wispy brown hair falls around her circular face as a graceful river does going over a waterfall. Her green eyes startled, she looks towards me, her face torn between the decision to run or to hide. Her eyes dart to the ground beside her, back to me, and with a pained look her muscles tighten, her legs clench and she’s off. I look towards the area she departed; I see nothing but torn clothing and burnt remains. Food wrappers litter the ground in an almost perfect circle. I see her bobbing and weaving through the crowd, no one notices her frantic running. No one cares; it’s a common scene in New York. She turns a corner and is gone. I look around myself once more and begin to pick up the garbage.

Amid the clutter lays a doll, a perfect, pristine porcelain doll.

On her foot is written the word Sally. A tear trickles down my cheek and onto the pavement below, splashing into a puddle creating a tiny ripple. So meaningless, you would never have noticed it unless you knew what you were looking for. I put the doll in my pocket and carry on. I round the corner that the girl did and I see her, picking through the trash. Her doe-like eyes stare me down, freezing me in place. The pain in her eyes stares at me, capturing me. As she looks on I place her doll on an abandoned chair, along with 20 dollars and a food coupon and then I turned around and walked away.

Returning a few minutes later she is gone along with the money and the coupon. Resting on the chair is her doll with a note saying

“She’s yours now. I was given her as a gift to be passed around the world when the owner sees a good deed. She's a reminder to the world that good does indeed exist, and can be found in almost anyone."

That doll is still sitting above my bed, still in pristine condition, waiting for the day she can be passed along, passed along as a reminder to the world of the good existence in mankind. Passed along as a reminder of the compassion we as a society still have.