Morose Sentiments

October 3, 2007
I sat, head in hands, my eyes burning with tears at my constantly rushed life. My diminutive apartment was cluttered and filthy, begging for a cleaning that I had no energy to do. The silence in the air was haunting, making my ears buzz with longing to hear something at the least. The light above the kitchen sink flickered and died, leaving me in utter darkness to wallow in false hopes. A salty tear streamed down my cheek freely, mixing in with the beads of sweat on my face. Summer was pounding down on the world outside my window, the sun never once shedding mercy on the people below its hue. Air conditioning was beyond my financial limit, leaving me forced to deal with being constantly uncomfortable in the boiling temperatures.

A dove flew and landed on my window ledge that was cracked open to let the breeze inside the room. The bird looked at me with its black, beady eyes, mocking me in my state of wretchedness. I locked eye contact with the bird symbolizing hope and peace, praying that somehow being in the presence of one would give me a strive for life that I now lacked. The bird nodded its head at me in greeting before lifting its wings and taking flight. I watched as it glided in the breeze, ignorant and free from the horrors occurring in the city it soared over. I yearned to feel that ignorance, to not care at all and be able to exist without worry or turmoil. I wanted to not feel at all, to be completely numb from any sense whether good or bad. I needed something; I starved for a solution to an unknown and ever lingering question in my heart. Life was bearing its wrath upon me, my faith and hope not being strong enough to keep my head above the surface of the drowning water. I was being smothered by my own choices and thoughts, a crushing battle raging furiously in my being. A remedy had to exist but where exactly its location is what I was most looking for. If this demon lurked with me any longer, my mind would surely collapse in on itself. My heavy heart couldn't take much more, I was ripping right in half with no mercy from a single soul breathing on this Earth.

A loud shriek came from the infant sleeping in the only other room I had to call my own. I sighed, breathing out all the air my lungs had in them in hope for a collapse and final peace. I stood slowly, my aches creaking and cracking as I stretched them out. My baby still cried, yelling at the world when she knew nothing of its sort. I walked to her call like a dog to its master. Her face was distorted with anger when I approached the dilapidated crib and ripped blankets she slept in. She was scarlet from her screaming, her eyes streaking with tears. I picked her up gently, taking the small person in my arms to soothe her. I looked into her crystal blue eyes, gazing into her young and innocent soul. Her screams settled and her red cheeks faded away. I set her back down in the crib to sleep, wanting to leave her presence as quick as I possibly could.

Her existence was the scar, the permanent reminder of the things that I had done in my life. I was young and frail, already being forced to care for another human being when I myself still wanted to be cradled. I missed my home, my friends and family that used to stand by my side. I shamed them all by going against their advice and kind words, thinking that I had the wisdom to judge for myself. I didn't listen to their warnings and now I was locked in the prison I set up for myself. I walked away from everything I knew to go to a different place in search for something that I wasn't even sure existed. I wanted happiness, freedom and an easy life. I wanted to hide from the truth and live in a dream world full of silk sheets and tangible splendor.

I was forced now to look at the person I brought into this mess, the child that had no choice of how she wanted to live. I thought I was forever suited with the perfect mate, a man whom I fully loved and trusted. He seen no need for me after awhile, leaving me sitting alone in the filth of my substandard apartment, heartbroken and pregnant with an unwanted child. When my daughter came into the world I was alone, with not a soul to help me greet her to life. I named her Emma and took her home with no one even seeming to notice her just blossoming life.

The dishes stacked up around the sink, giving home to the flies swarming around. I felt my eyes glaze over with wax as my mind zoned out, soaring me back to times lost. I had money only a short while ago, I had a purpose, a hope and a meaning to get up in the morning. Nothing was what I had now, the itching need for a purpose making my hair fall out strand by strand.

My eyes snapped back to focus by the sound a small whimper from Emma. I walked to her, dragging my feet reluctantly. She was pale and sickly looking, the sudden fever in her coming suddenly and without any warning. My heart leap into my throat, my motherly instincts arising from a part of myself I didn't know existed. I took her up, holding her close to my body. Her heat leaked into me, making the humidity of the room and outside straining as I walked into the sunshine. I walked hurriedly down the street to the hospital, the fear bubbling inside me like water above a flame. My head hurt with a throbbing sense of worry and excitement. Emma was pale and burning with fever, sick as I had ever seen another person before. Her dark hair was wet from sweat and her tears, her delicate eyes wanting to sleep. I walked into the doors of the hospital, frantic to find help for my child. A nurse took her out of my arms and away from me, leaving me desperate for answers as to what was wrong. I sat quietly alone by myself in the corner of the waiting room, letting the sun coming through the window and tan my skin. I could feel the heat on my back and shoulders, the tension in my hands making them cramp painfully. I got up and began pacing back and forth, wearing out the shoes on my feet that were already useless. A nurse came to me, allowing me to go see Emma. I walked into the pale room where she rested, the longing in my heart settled with the sight of my child. I stared at her from a distance, realizing to myself what the answer to those welling questions that had been in my heart. It was her, my daughter, that was my reason for living and moving on with the future. Emma was my reminder of better times and the good parts of life. She was innocent and fresh, a chance for a new start. She was a memorial to love and the past, not a burden at any cost. I watched her every move, every twitch in her little limbs. I sighed, hopeful for my next breath and memory to come. There was a future, no matter how difficulties of the past. I was going to be okay, I was going to make it, my daughter and I were going to be fine. I turned around and walked out into the day and into the busy setting of society. The sky looked bluer, the wind more soothing as the flame of hope in my heart reignited.

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