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Description
Part: I

The large gray clouds lightly shed tears of despair, on the hard lifeless ground
I walk to the once living garden
The petals of roses and carnations lie dead everywhere, on the cold harsh cement
The faint scent of the dead flowers still lingers over the slightly colored petals
I walk through this dead bed of flower’s petals, toward this fountain of darkness - for it is covered by many weeping willows, and seems to not have ever seen the light of day
I look into its filthy fountain water, and I see the face of another
Not the person who had lived here a year ago, but the face of a lonely, dead and sad soul
I continue my walk, following the tiny polluted stream of water that leaks from the dark fountain.
I find myself in an arched tree pathway, toward what looks like a vine covered statue, with some, small, black creature in front of it - seemingly looking at me
I continue to walk
When I get to the statue, I see my legs have been slashed by something
The dark –red substance slowly flows down my pale legs
I look at this tormented looking statue, covered in vines and gunk
It’s a statue of a woman, with a sword through her heart
If it had not been raining - I would have sworn she was crying
I suddenly feel a vibrating hairy “thing” move up, down and around my leg - and to my surprise - it is but a black kitten, with bright yellow eyes
I stare at the statue and back at the kitten and memories of the fire come flowing back
The dreary day...
The flowers in the front yard
The violent glow of the fire, which engulfed my house, my love and family members
It feels like a sword has been pierced through my heart
I feel small and afraid
Helpless
The miles I have walked, trying to find a place for me
The blood I have shed
The tears I have cried
Forever bounded to the place of my misery
My lost
My death

Part: II

It was August 14th, 1982. It was a dark and dreary day but pleasant none the less. I always did find such morbid things interesting. I was always the odd man out. I wanted to stay inside and read or take pictures of the trees swaying in the moonlight. I never wanted to play soccer or dress-up. I never wanted to go to parties and be social. The teenagers my age were so naïve, so immature. I was wise beyond my years. I was in tuned to the real world. Not the made up world sold by magazines, actors and politicians. Oh no! And because of that, I was different. I was abnormal. I was a freak.
The day was like any other. I woke up, at 5 in the morning. I took a shower, got dressed and started with my daily chores. Even though it was the summer, I had plenty of work to do. I knew what my chores were. I knew them to a “T”. I was to cook breakfast and clean up afterwards. Sweep and mop the floors. Dust and polish the furniture. I was to clean the bathrooms and than get started on the yard work – which I do not want to get in to great detail about. Never the less, if you look at it on a grand scale, it did not seem like much. My parents were rarely home, and when they were, they seemed to always be with my little sister – who I also took care of during the day, when my parents were gone and in the midst of all my house work - praising her, just for moving her pinky. It was absolutely ridiculous. They just treated me as the mistake, the screw up. Maybe I was…

Part: III

We lived in a grand Victorian house. Frankly, I found it to be too much for our little four piece family. In general I found it hazardous. It was old and creaking. I was waiting for one of us – most particularly me because I went into the attic a lot and the floor was exceptionally bad up there, and also most of the bad things just seem to happen to me – to fall through the floor soon, it has yet to happen and I doubt it will, but I still wait for the day.
The basement and the attic had a bad fungus problem which supposedly my father was suppose to be fixing, but until he got off his fat ass I had to suffer and wonder if I would catch some awful lung illness while down there washing his dirty underwear or go up to the attic to get away from his infernal, idiotic ramblings.
Anyway, the house had 3 stories, 1 under ground and 2 above. It was a dull grayish blue color. The dollish-looking house had a white painted porch spreading from one end of the house to the other, with a dark brown door and white window frames. On the back of the house there were two balconies, on the second floor. One jutted out from my sister’s room and the other from my room. My parents’ room was in between my sister and I and they had a semi-big circular window. The house had a black shingled roof that was definitely in need of repair. I loved to go up in the attic when it rained for there was always this unearthly but soothing feeling up there but I always got wet up there because the roof leaked.

Part: IV

“So, Catherine…What should I be expecting today? Not more of that slop you call food!” said father in a laughable but malicious tone.
“I’m making waffles, eggs and bacon this morning; just the thing to clog up your arteries.” I laughed, thinking this would have some kind of negative effect.
“Good, because I want to make sure I die before your mother and you!”
I should have known he would have loved it.
“Good morning, Robert!” ringed my mother’s voice.
“Cat.” despondent my mother’s voice seemed to be when ever she said my name.
Frankly, I was not too fond of her calling me Cat. I made that quite clear, but some
things you have to live with. I had to live with all of it.
“Good morning, dear.”
“Morning, mother.”
“Cat, where is your sister?” said mother in an inquisitive manner.
“She jumped off the balcony last night trying to fly.”
“Why can’t you be happy, Cat?!”
“Normal is more like it,” said my father.
“Because I am stuck with a family that hates me and in a world that is going to hell. Do you want your eggs scrambled or sunny-side up?”
“Cat, that wasn’t funny…now go upstairs and find your sister.”
“Fine…”
My parents were always treating me like I was a caregiver or a maid. They seemed to never have anything nice to say to me or at least not in a nice tone. They were constantly complaining about something. I didn’t do this right or I didn’t do it at all. They were always like that. And they wonder why I was bitchy and anti-social.
“Jessika, where are you?! Mom wants you down stairs! Jessika!”
“I’m right here! Quit yelling.”
“Where were you?”
“I was in the bathroom, gosh. Don’t have a cow.” Every time she did that, she put her hand on her hip and it seemed every time she wanted to snap her fingers but if she did she knew I would smack her.
“Yeah, well I have to have a cow. You know how mom and dad are when I don’t do or find something in a short amount of time.”
“That’s because you’re slow!”
“I’m not slow. The reason it takes me so long to do things is because I have so much to do!”
“Maybe if you didn’t hang out with that creepy dude, you would get it all done in a timely fashion.”
“Jake is not creepy…anyway I don’t hang out with him that much.”
“Well, you are always talking to him. You must be in love with him!” And as she did that she made those annoying kissy faces that all children her age do when they talk about love and other such mushy things.
“Go down stairs you little brat!”
“Fine and I’m telling mom you called me a brat!”
“Go ahead! And do you want to know why? Because I don’t give a crap!”
“MOM! CAT CALLED ME A BRAT AND SAID CRAP!!!” She ran down the stairs yelling this at the top of her lungs, all the while getting redder and redder as if she were to explode. I found it rather hilarious. But none the less we go through this every morning. And every morning I am found guilty and she skips away Scot-free.

Part: V

Well after that whole ordeal of violent admonishes and banning from things I never did anyway, it was time to go outside and do the yard work. This was my favorite time of the day because I could escape my mother and father – when they were home-…but unfortunately not always my sister and “hung out” with Jake. He was the only one who understood me. He was my sanity. He was my friend…
“So how has your morning been, Ren?” said Jake in is fluid and delicate voice.
“Terrible. Then again isn’t it always…so, it has been like the other mornings; nothing unusual.”
“Well, I suppose that is good and bad at the same time. But hey! It could be worse.”
“True. True. So, how has your morning been?”
“Pretty good, you know Pinky, my rat, died not to long ago. But yesterday while I buried him I met a beautiful black crow and I named her Stella. I’ll have to bring her by soon.”
“Please do!”
“Also, I wrote a new poem this morning.”
“Really, can I hear it?”
“Um…it’s still in the editing process but once I am done you will be the first to see it.”
“Yay! And I’m very happy you got a new companion, because I know you loved Pinky very much.”
“Yes, I did and I miss him dearly. He will make excellent fertilizer for the trees though.”
“I’m sure he will.”
Jake and I had a lot of interesting conversations like this and then we had some really screwed up conversations. But none the less we did talk. I felt so happy and alive whenever we talked. I mean he was there, he was real. He shared similar feelings and opinions as me. We were both strange and that was beautiful.
“So, what were you chastised for this morning?”
“The usual crap with my sister and some things I shouldn’t have said.”
“I don’t see why you don’t just leave.”
“And go where? I know I’m under appreciated here but I have nowhere else to go.”
There was an awkward silence between him and me for about 3 minutes and than…
“Ren…I have a friend who lives in Laguna Beach and not to long ago he wanted me to come down there and help him with his coffee shop and…” Jake’s soft brown eyes go from an intensive mapping of mine to the semi-weeded ground that I was de-weeding.
“Jake what is it?”
“I want you to come to Laguna Beach with me tonight.” His beautiful eyes now return to me, no longer soft and mellow; his gaze is hard and searching now.
“Are you serious? ...” My voice trailed at the end of the sentence. I was slowly sinking into shock.
“I wouldn’t kid about such a thing, Ren. You are my friend and I do not want to leave you behind. I love you and I just cannot do that. If I must I shall stay here and suffer with you. I will not and cannot leave you.”
I was in complete and utter awe right then. I mean he said he loved me and would suffer with me. How many people do you know that would do that for you? I stood there for about 5 minutes just staring and tracing his body with my eyes, just processing everything that had just happened. My lips came back together from their slightly ajar position and I beginning to make words again.
“You want me…to come go Laguna Beach with you?”
“Is there something wrong with me?”
“Of course not! It’s just…Laguna Beach. How do you plan to get us there? Have you thought this through?”
“Of course I have! What kind of a fool do you take me for?!”
“I take you as no fool. It’s just…I’m kind of in shock. I mean-I never…”
“You never thought I liked you or cared about you that much? ...”
“No…but yes”
“You need not say more. Just tell me will you go with me. I have arranged for my cousin, Nadia, to drive us to Bakersfield and we will take a bus to Laguna Beach”
“A bus? …”
“Would you prefer to walk?”
“No but I don’t want to be stuck on one of those old, smelly buses all cramped up with people.”
“Well, we don’t have to go…”
“Alright! Alright! Where do I meet you?”
“Meet me under the tree over by main road at dusk. I’ll be waiting for you.”
“OK. I’ll meet you there tonight than.”
“And don’t pack much.” He smiled after that and ran off.
“I won’t! I don’t have much anyway!” I felt like a 4 year old that had ran into a candy store. I was so happy. I felt so alive. Everything felt and smelled new, but of course with ups there are downs.

Part: VI

It was about 4 hours later that I got done with the yard work, which is much earlier than usual. I think my giddiness of finally getting away from my family and for maybe once in my life being truly happy, overwhelmed me and made the time go by much faster and somehow I got it all done about an hour earlier than usual. Since I didn’t usually eat lunch until 11:30, I thought I could start packing. I put the garden tools back in the pale-red, growth ridden shed and went back into the house, but once I set foot into the house. I was called immediately into the kitchen by my father.
“Catherine, get in here!” I knew anytime my father or mother called me by my whole first name that I was in for a deep chastising or in big trouble.
I walked into the kitchen and there sat my parents and sister in a semi-circle around the table facing me. They were a third of the Supreme Court and they were about to fine me with the label of guilt.
“Yes?”
“Were you talking to that boy again today?” That boy?! He wasn’t that boy! He was Jake, my savior! Not that boy!
“You mean Jake? ...”
“Yes, that excuse of a human.”
“HE’S MORE HUMAN THAN ALL OF YOU COMBINED!”
“SHUT UP GIRL! So, fucking disrespectful…We raised you better than a disrespectful, gothic brat!”
“You didn’t rai…”
“SHUT UP! Jessika saw you talk to that Jake boy and she said you planned on running away with him tonight…Is this true?”
“Yes I am. I don’t even see why you ask? ... Even if I wasn’t going you would say I was.”
“You ungrateful little brat, I swear if I didn’t have the scars from my C-section I would have sworn you were not my child!”
“Don’t think I’m too proud to call you my mother, Jane!” Once I said her name she turned fire engine red and slapped my across my face. Her long French manicured nails left little blood spotted nicks and red lines along my left cheek.
“You are to go nowhere with him nor are you to see him ever again. Now march straight up to your room and do not come out for anything unless called by me or your father.”
If only I had thought of something witty to say back at her then, but it didn’t matter, for they could not contain me in my room forever. I would get out somehow.

Part: VII

I started my journey up the long, dreadful stairway. It seemed so much darker and narrow than before. The steps were steeper and I saw the little clouds of dust that came up at every little step I took. The air was thinner. Everything started to move. I finally reached the top of the mountain of steps. I turned to the left and there was my door, maybe about 6 feet from me, but it seemed like it took me an eternity to get there. There was my plain and boring door. It was painted white with a small brass bass clef shaped door knob. As I opened the door it made a wretched squeal. I would have preferred the sound of nails on a chalkboard. My room was as plain as the door; a dull intro into an even dimmer story.
Pretty much there was a bed, a dresser, a tiny bathroom and a window with a balcony. The bathroom was no bigger than a cubicle with a shower. The sink was only big enough to hold a bar of soap and a tooth brush and paste. All my towels and anything else I may need while in the bathroom was in my dresser on the other side of the room parallel to the bathroom. The room in general was a tad bit bigger than the backside of a U-haul truck. The walls in my room and in the bathroom were a cream color and the little bit of furniture I had was all dark Cherry wood.

Part: VIII

“What the fuck am I going to do?! I could just jump out of the window…no…damn it that is where I put the wheel barrel of mulch! I should have just put it next to the shed! Why Ren?! Why?!” It seemed like I always did something I knew I shouldn’t have done and regretted it later.
“I could just sneak out but knowing mom and dad they must have Jessika on watch for me…Maybe when Jake doesn’t see me there he’ll come to the house and see what’s up. He’s knows I wouldn’t make a promise and just break it.”
The minutes seemed to stand still and the ideas just piled up in the trash can, and my confidence of escaping this horrid place and the happiness that once filled me to the point of a stoner’s high had completely diminished. The idea of me escaping seemed eons away. My once statuesque savior, my knight in glistening armor seemed like he would not be galloping in to save me this time. My speck of sanity had been locked away from me by my wicked family. I just sat that there and let the darkness engulf me.

Part: IX

The sky was like a diamond in dimly lit light. The air was clammy but cool. The dusk was still and lonely. I had packed all my belongings – which were not much – and I just waited for my chance to escape or be saved. I stared at the fiery orb as it fell into the sea of green and waited for the blue and black paint to be spilt and for them to run and mix together. I waited for that mysterious person that spilt that paint to begin to start sticking the spattered canvas with little tiny dots and let the light shine through from the other side.
It finally got dark and my hopes, of being rescued from this horrid place, were completely dashed. Than all of the sudden I heard a rapping at my window and to my astonishing surprise it turned out to be Jake. I knew he would come but now that he is here it was utterly mind boggling.
“Dude, why are you here?! You were supposed to meet me at dusk on the main road.”
“Shhhh! Not so loud! I want to get out of here but my little sister tipped off my parents about tonight and I haven’t been able to escape. My sister and parents are on watch for me outside my door like I’m a convicted felon and I couldn’t go out my window because of the wheel barrel at the bottom. I am trapped in this forsaken house!”
“Not anymore. Let’s go!” As he said that he swung his arm toward the window as to say come on.
“O.K. O.K. You go down first and I’ll throw my suitcase to you.”
“O.K.”
Jake climbed down the ladder and when he reached the bottom I threw him my suitcase. I heard him struggle with my suitcase as he caught it.
“Dang Ren! What do you have in this thing?”
“Let’s see…a couple changes of clothes, my brush, toothpaste, toothbrush, lighters, incenses, candles and my book collection. Not much…”
“Dude! That’s a crap load of stuff!”
“Kind of…but it could be worse. I could be…”
“Never mind it! We need to get out of here. My cousin is waiting.”
“O.K! Hold your horses!” He giggled under his breathe after I said that phrase.
“What’s so funny?!” I said this as I climbed down the ladder.
“Who in the world says ‘Hold your horses!’ anymore?” He barely got his sentence out he was laughing so much.
“There are plenty of people that still say that! ...” I looked down at the ground and kicked some dirt around as I was doing so I kind of made a pouting face.
“I just don’t know who any of them are.”
“I’m sure there are and one day we shall meet these people, but we’re not going to meet anybody if we don’t start moving.” With that Jake grabbed my hand and started to run and pull me along with him toward the side road on which we would follow until it ran into the main road where we would meet Jake’s cousin. But just as the rubber of our soles were about to hit the gravel road, that's when Satan himself appeared to once again bring my world to a screeching halt…

Part: X

“Let go of me. You’re hurting me! You can’t do this to me! Where is Jake?!”
My father had seized me and my accomplice before we even took three steps on the cheap, gravel, wannabe road. He was dragging me up the stairs by my ankles, like a farmer would do to a chicken as it took it in to the backroom to be murdered and de-feathered. Right as we reached the top of the stairs, my head collided with the top step and my whole world turned dark.
So what could I do? I was unconscious, defenseless and my only hope was probably being murder somewhere in the house by my beloved mother and sister. What was I to do?

***

I’m not to sure what happened in the minutes following my unconsciousness. All I know is when I woke up I was surround by an angry glow of orange. The glow danced a violent and piercing dance. The room smelled of burning wood and my skin seared. It took a couple of second for me to become fully aware of what was going on. The house was on fire and I was trapped in my room. I scanned the room frantically, thinking I might find a way out or something to help me escape. It was than that I spied my father on the ground, slowly being devoured by the flames.
I was encircled by the violently glowing flames and every second they seemed to get closer and closer, slowly suffocating me of any chance of escape that I may have had. But just as I was about to go under from smoke inhalation, I heard a voice call from out of the flames.
“Ren,” It called again from the flames.
“Where are you?!”
It was than I realized that it was Jake. My savior was alive and coming to rescue me, but how? It was bad enough he was still running around this flaming building, let alone if he would to come in to this fire coffin which was once my room.
“Ren!”
“Jake, I’m in here! Help!”
“Don’t worry, Ren. I’m coming!”
All of the sudden, there was a fitful hammering at the blazing door. The wooden obstacle was sizzling and creaking from the searing fire and Jake’s rhymthic blows. It wasn’t long until the hinges broke off and down went the door extinguishing some of the flames, only to be engulfed again by the still aflame room.
He should there in the door way. He seemed to be examining how he was going to come in the room and retrieve me. He back away from the door and move to the left out of view. I began to panic.
“I know he saw me. He’s not just going to leave me here!” I thought myself
Within seconds, right when I was going to call for him, Jake stepped back in view with something over his shoulder.
“What the hell is that” I thought
He slowly slid the body off his shoulder on to the charring door. I stared at the object and it did not take me long to figure out what it was. It was the body of my mother. I sat there in shock. I was happy that I would have to take her bitching anymore but the fact that she was dead – that Jake had to of killed her sent chills up my spine.
Jake began to walk over my deceased mother over to me.
“Ren, grab my hand!” I ignored his command, terrified of touching his hands knowing what he had to have done with them. He must have read my eyes.
“It’s OK, Ren. It was the explosion that did her in.” said Jake.
I stared in to his eyes, completely dumbfounded by all that was going on. It was than that Jake climbed toward me and lifted me up. He carried me out of my bedroom door and set me upon on the floor.
“We’re going to have to crawl the rest of the way. I can’t carry you the whole way. We will surely die if I do; if not by smoke inhalation, than exhaustion.
I nodded my head and we made our way down the hallway. We stayed close together and low to the ground. The closer we got the stairwell the hotter it got.
“Listen, Ren. We’re about to go down the stairs. Be careful. Stay close behind me.”
“O.K” I said as he turned toward the opposite side of the hallway and began to crawl backward down the stairwell. When he was at least five steps from the top stair, I began to make my way down as well.
By the time I was at the middle stair he was at the bottom. The heat had let up a bit but it was still really hot and the smoke was very thick. I couldn’t stop coughing and my eyes were starting to water. Jake called from the bottom of the stairs.
“Hurry, Ren! We haven’t much time! The house will surely implode soon!”
Just as he finished that statement, the stairwell began to tremble and than it moved from the stairwell to the walls. The house was about to give way. The stairs started to collapse.
I called to Jake, “GET OUT! SAVE YOURSELF!” Some of the ceiling came down making it impossible to reach me and seconds later the stairwell did as well.

Part: XI

He fell to the ground with his legs crossed in front of him. He just sat there and watched hell destroy itself. How it seared the pupils of his eyes. She lies in a fiery coffin returning back to her natural state – back to the soil that gave her everything; stuck for eternity with the family that gave her nothing. Now she pays that debt to the terra. He sat there, just watching these vibrant colors of red and orange slowly paint the house black.
“Guess what, Ren?” He uncrossed his legs and moved his blacken hand, slowly up his semi-charred pants, to his pocket. He sifted through his pocket, until he found a small wrinkled up piece of paper. He unfolded the paper, and he tried to smooth it out.
“I finished it, Ren.” He stared at the piece of paper in front of him.
“I finished the poem, Ren. I wrote it for you. Do you want to hear it?”
A warm breeze passed through his hair and over his face. The wind whispered through the hollow trees amongst him. Jake smiled and began to read:
The destruction of something so small and insignificant, causes a ripple effect and the destruction of everything significant.
Take away the simple insanities
You take away the progress – the evolutions of the world
Bleach away the colorful ideas and be left with conflicting blacks and whites
Take the life of a simpleton and create a mushroom cloud of disheartened souls and bloody tears
A drop of split blood emancipates the voices of the voiceless
All she wanted was freedom
She wanted someone to help carry the burden, but not even the gods themselves could have helped her
A martyr for herself
A martyr for many who know nothing of her existence
Love could not defer her off the stone engraved pathway
So now she lies amongst the animosity
Like a rose in the winter
The wind one by one plucks another petal from this beautiful head
Her body encircled by her beauty
Even death has sympathy
Her beauty to great to be destroy
Her death to dramatic to be forgotten
Young life wasted upon a battle that no one should face alone
So the gods honored her death by painting her demise in the evening sky, showing even in death there is beauty
And with the last words parting his lips, the poem sailed through the air toward the slowly dying house. It was like a second sunset, and she was the sun…

-Fin-

Description
Part: I

The large gray clouds lightly shed tears of despair, on the hard lifeless ground
I walk to the once living garden
The petals of roses and carnations lie dead everywhere, on the cold harsh cement
The faint scent of the dead flowers still lingers over the slightly colored petals
I walk through this dead bed of flower’s petals, toward this fountain of darkness - for it is covered by many weeping willows, and seems to not have ever seen the light of day
I look into its filthy fountain water, and I see the face of another
Not the person who had lived here a year ago, but the face of a lonely, dead and sad soul
I continue my walk, following the tiny polluted stream of water that leaks from the dark fountain.
I find myself in an arched tree pathway, toward what looks like a vine covered statue, with some, small, black creature in front of it - seemingly looking at me
I continue to walk
When I get to the statue, I see my legs have been slashed by something
The dark –red substance slowly flows down my pale legs
I look at this tormented looking statue, covered in vines and gunk
It’s a statue of a woman, with a sword through her heart
If it had not been raining - I would have sworn she was crying
I suddenly feel a vibrating hairy “thing” move up, down and around my leg - and to my surprise - it is but a black kitten, with bright yellow eyes
I stare at the statue and back at the kitten and memories of the fire come flowing back
The dreary day...
The flowers in the front yard
The violent glow of the fire, which engulfed my house, my love and family members
It feels like a sword has been pierced through my heart
I feel small and afraid
Helpless
The miles I have walked, trying to find a place for me
The blood I have shed
The tears I have cried
Forever bounded to the place of my misery
My lost
My death

Part: II

It was August 14th, 1982. It was a dark and dreary day but pleasant none the less. I always did find such morbid things interesting. I was always the odd man out. I wanted to stay inside and read or take pictures of the trees swaying in the moonlight. I never wanted to play soccer or dress-up. I never wanted to go to parties and be social. The teenagers my age were so naïve, so immature. I was wise beyond my years. I was in tuned to the real world. Not the made up world sold by magazines, actors and politicians. Oh no! And because of that, I was different. I was abnormal. I was a freak.
The day was like any other. I woke up, at 5 in the morning. I took a shower, got dressed and started with my daily chores. Even though it was the summer, I had plenty of work to do. I knew what my chores were. I knew them to a “T”. I was to cook breakfast and clean up afterwards. Sweep and mop the floors. Dust and polish the furniture. I was to clean the bathrooms and than get started on the yard work – which I do not want to get in to great detail about. Never the less, if you look at it on a grand scale, it did not seem like much. My parents were rarely home, and when they were, they seemed to always be with my little sister – who I also took care of during the day, when my parents were gone and in the midst of all my house work - praising her, just for moving her pinky. It was absolutely ridiculous. They just treated me as the mistake, the screw up. Maybe I was…

Part: III

We lived in a grand Victorian house. Frankly, I found it to be too much for our little four piece family. In general I found it hazardous. It was old and creaking. I was waiting for one of us – most particularly me because I went into the attic a lot and the floor was exceptionally bad up there, and also most of the bad things just seem to happen to me – to fall through the floor soon, it has yet to happen and I doubt it will, but I still wait for the day.
The basement and the attic had a bad fungus problem which supposedly my father was suppose to be fixing, but until he got off his fat ass I had to suffer and wonder if I would catch some awful lung illness while down there washing his dirty underwear or go up to the attic to get away from his infernal, idiotic ramblings.
Anyway, the house had 3 stories, 1 under ground and 2 above. It was a dull grayish blue color. The dollish-looking house had a white painted porch spreading from one end of the house to the other, with a dark brown door and white window frames. On the back of the house there were two balconies, on the second floor. One jutted out from my sister’s room and the other from my room. My parents’ room was in between my sister and I and they had a semi-big circular window. The house had a black shingled roof that was definitely in need of repair. I loved to go up in the attic when it rained for there was always this unearthly but soothing feeling up there but I always got wet up there because the roof leaked.

Part: IV

“So, Catherine…What should I be expecting today? Not more of that slop you call food!” said father in a laughable but malicious tone.
“I’m making waffles, eggs and bacon this morning; just the thing to clog up your arteries.” I laughed, thinking this would have some kind of negative effect.
“Good, because I want to make sure I die before your mother and you!”
I should have known he would have loved it.
“Good morning, Robert!” ringed my mother’s voice.
“Cat.” despondent my mother’s voice seemed to be when ever she said my name.
Frankly, I was not too fond of her calling me Cat. I made that quite clear, but some
things you have to live with. I had to live with all of it.
“Good morning, dear.”
“Morning, mother.”
“Cat, where is your sister?” said mother in an inquisitive manner.
“She jumped off the balcony last night trying to fly.”
“Why can’t you be happy, Cat?!”
“Normal is more like it,” said my father.
“Because I am stuck with a family that hates me and in a world that is going to hell. Do you want your eggs scrambled or sunny-side up?”
“Cat, that wasn’t funny…now go upstairs and find your sister.”
“Fine…”
My parents were always treating me like I was a caregiver or a maid. They seemed to never have anything nice to say to me or at least not in a nice tone. They were constantly complaining about something. I didn’t do this right or I didn’t do it at all. They were always like that. And they wonder why I was bitchy and anti-social.
“Jessika, where are you?! Mom wants you down stairs! Jessika!”
“I’m right here! Quit yelling.”
“Where were you?”
“I was in the bathroom, gosh. Don’t have a cow.” Every time she did that, she put her hand on her hip and it seemed every time she wanted to snap her fingers but if she did she knew I would smack her.
“Yeah, well I have to have a cow. You know how mom and dad are when I don’t do or find something in a short amount of time.”
“That’s because you’re slow!”
“I’m not slow. The reason it takes me so long to do things is because I have so much to do!”
“Maybe if you didn’t hang out with that creepy dude, you would get it all done in a timely fashion.”
“Jake is not creepy…anyway I don’t hang out with him that much.”
“Well, you are always talking to him. You must be in love with him!” And as she did that she made those annoying kissy faces that all children her age do when they talk about love and other such mushy things.
“Go down stairs you little brat!”
“Fine and I’m telling mom you called me a brat!”
“Go ahead! And do you want to know why? Because I don’t give a crap!”
“MOM! CAT CALLED ME A BRAT AND SAID CRAP!!!” She ran down the stairs yelling this at the top of her lungs, all the while getting redder and redder as if she were to explode. I found it rather hilarious. But none the less we go through this every morning. And every morning I am found guilty and she skips away Scot-free.

Part: V

Well after that whole ordeal of violent admonishes and banning from things I never did anyway, it was time to go outside and do the yard work. This was my favorite time of the day because I could escape my mother and father – when they were home-…but unfortunately not always my sister and “hung out” with Jake. He was the only one who understood me. He was my sanity. He was my friend…
“So how has your morning been, Ren?” said Jake in is fluid and delicate voice.
“Terrible. Then again isn’t it always…so, it has been like the other mornings; nothing unusual.”
“Well, I suppose that is good and bad at the same time. But hey! It could be worse.”
“True. True. So, how has your morning been?”
“Pretty good, you know Pinky, my rat, died not to long ago. But yesterday while I buried him I met a beautiful black crow and I named her Stella. I’ll have to bring her by soon.”
“Please do!”
“Also, I wrote a new poem this morning.”
“Really, can I hear it?”
“Um…it’s still in the editing process but once I am done you will be the first to see it.”
“Yay! And I’m very happy you got a new companion, because I know you loved Pinky very much.”
“Yes, I did and I miss him dearly. He will make excellent fertilizer for the trees though.”
“I’m sure he will.”
Jake and I had a lot of interesting conversations like this and then we had some really screwed up conversations. But none the less we did talk. I felt so happy and alive whenever we talked. I mean he was there, he was real. He shared similar feelings and opinions as me. We were both strange and that was beautiful.
“So, what were you chastised for this morning?”
“The usual crap with my sister and some things I shouldn’t have said.”
“I don’t see why you don’t just leave.”
“And go where? I know I’m under appreciated here but I have nowhere else to go.”
There was an awkward silence between him and me for about 3 minutes and than…
“Ren…I have a friend who lives in Laguna Beach and not to long ago he wanted me to come down there and help him with his coffee shop and…” Jake’s soft brown eyes go from an intensive mapping of mine to the semi-weeded ground that I was de-weeding.
“Jake what is it?”
“I want you to come to Laguna Beach with me tonight.” His beautiful eyes now return to me, no longer soft and mellow; his gaze is hard and searching now.
“Are you serious? ...” My voice trailed at the end of the sentence. I was slowly sinking into shock.
“I wouldn’t kid about such a thing, Ren. You are my friend and I do not want to leave you behind. I love you and I just cannot do that. If I must I shall stay here and suffer with you. I will not and cannot leave you.”
I was in complete and utter awe right then. I mean he said he loved me and would suffer with me. How many people do you know that would do that for you? I stood there for about 5 minutes just staring and tracing his body with my eyes, just processing everything that had just happened. My lips came back together from their slightly ajar position and I beginning to make words again.
“You want me…to come go Laguna Beach with you?”
“Is there something wrong with me?”
“Of course not! It’s just…Laguna Beach. How do you plan to get us there? Have you thought this through?”
“Of course I have! What kind of a fool do you take me for?!”
“I take you as no fool. It’s just…I’m kind of in shock. I mean-I never…”
“You never thought I liked you or cared about you that much? ...”
“No…but yes”
“You need not say more. Just tell me will you go with me. I have arranged for my cousin, Nadia, to drive us to Bakersfield and we will take a bus to Laguna Beach”
“A bus? …”
“Would you prefer to walk?”
“No but I don’t want to be stuck on one of those old, smelly buses all cramped up with people.”
“Well, we don’t have to go…”
“Alright! Alright! Where do I meet you?”
“Meet me under the tree over by main road at dusk. I’ll be waiting for you.”
“OK. I’ll meet you there tonight than.”
“And don’t pack much.” He smiled after that and ran off.
“I won’t! I don’t have much anyway!” I felt like a 4 year old that had ran into a candy store. I was so happy. I felt so alive. Everything felt and smelled new, but of course with ups there are downs.

Part: VI

It was about 4 hours later that I got done with the yard work, which is much earlier than usual. I think my giddiness of finally getting away from my family and for maybe once in my life being truly happy, overwhelmed me and made the time go by much faster and somehow I got it all done about an hour earlier than usual. Since I didn’t usually eat lunch until 11:30, I thought I could start packing. I put the garden tools back in the pale-red, growth ridden shed and went back into the house, but once I set foot into the house. I was called immediately into the kitchen by my father.
“Catherine, get in here!” I knew anytime my father or mother called me by my whole first name that I was in for a deep chastising or in big trouble.
I walked into the kitchen and there sat my parents and sister in a semi-circle around the table facing me. They were a third of the Supreme Court and they were about to fine me with the label of guilt.
“Yes?”
“Were you talking to that boy again today?” That boy?! He wasn’t that boy! He was Jake, my savior! Not that boy!
“You mean Jake? ...”
“Yes, that excuse of a human.”
“HE’S MORE HUMAN THAN ALL OF YOU COMBINED!”
“SHUT UP GIRL! So, fucking disrespectful…We raised you better than a disrespectful, gothic brat!”
“You didn’t rai…”
“SHUT UP! Jessika saw you talk to that Jake boy and she said you planned on running away with him tonight…Is this true?”
“Yes I am. I don’t even see why you ask? ... Even if I wasn’t going you would say I was.”
“You ungrateful little brat, I swear if I didn’t have the scars from my C-section I would have sworn you were not my child!”
“Don’t think I’m too proud to call you my mother, Jane!” Once I said her name she turned fire engine red and slapped my across my face. Her long French manicured nails left little blood spotted nicks and red lines along my left cheek.
“You are to go nowhere with him nor are you to see him ever again. Now march straight up to your room and do not come out for anything unless called by me or your father.”
If only I had thought of something witty to say back at her then, but it didn’t matter, for they could not contain me in my room forever. I would get out somehow.

Part: VII

I started my journey up the long, dreadful stairway. It seemed so much darker and narrow than before. The steps were steeper and I saw the little clouds of dust that came up at every little step I took. The air was thinner. Everything started to move. I finally reached the top of the mountain of steps. I turned to the left and there was my door, maybe about 6 feet from me, but it seemed like it took me an eternity to get there. There was my plain and boring door. It was painted white with a small brass bass clef shaped door knob. As I opened the door it made a wretched squeal. I would have preferred the sound of nails on a chalkboard. My room was as plain as the door; a dull intro into an even dimmer story.
Pretty much there was a bed, a dresser, a tiny bathroom and a window with a balcony. The bathroom was no bigger than a cubicle with a shower. The sink was only big enough to hold a bar of soap and a tooth brush and paste. All my towels and anything else I may need while in the bathroom was in my dresser on the other side of the room parallel to the bathroom. The room in general was a tad bit bigger than the backside of a U-haul truck. The walls in my room and in the bathroom were a cream color and the little bit of furniture I had was all dark Cherry wood.

Part: VIII

“What the fuck am I going to do?! I could just jump out of the window…no…damn it that is where I put the wheel barrel of mulch! I should have just put it next to the shed! Why Ren?! Why?!” It seemed like I always did something I knew I shouldn’t have done and regretted it later.
“I could just sneak out but knowing mom and dad they must have Jessika on watch for me…Maybe when Jake doesn’t see me there he’ll come to the house and see what’s up. He’s knows I wouldn’t make a promise and just break it.”
The minutes seemed to stand still and the ideas just piled up in the trash can, and my confidence of escaping this horrid place and the happiness that once filled me to the point of a stoner’s high had completely diminished. The idea of me escaping seemed eons away. My once statuesque savior, my knight in glistening armor seemed like he would not be galloping in to save me this time. My speck of sanity had been locked away from me by my wicked family. I just sat that there and let the darkness engulf me.

Part: IX

The sky was like a diamond in dimly lit light. The air was clammy but cool. The dusk was still and lonely. I had packed all my belongings – which were not much – and I just waited for my chance to escape or be saved. I stared at the fiery orb as it fell into the sea of green and waited for the blue and black paint to be spilt and for them to run and mix together. I waited for that mysterious person that spilt that paint to begin to start sticking the spattered canvas with little tiny dots and let the light shine through from the other side.
It finally got dark and my hopes, of being rescued from this horrid place, were completely dashed. Than all of the sudden I heard a rapping at my window and to my astonishing surprise it turned out to be Jake. I knew he would come but now that he is here it was utterly mind boggling.
“Dude, why are you here?! You were supposed to meet me at dusk on the main road.”
“Shhhh! Not so loud! I want to get out of here but my little sister tipped off my parents about tonight and I haven’t been able to escape. My sister and parents are on watch for me outside my door like I’m a convicted felon and I couldn’t go out my window because of the wheel barrel at the bottom. I am trapped in this forsaken house!”
“Not anymore. Let’s go!” As he said that he swung his arm toward the window as to say come on.
“O.K. O.K. You go down first and I’ll throw my suitcase to you.”
“O.K.”
Jake climbed down the ladder and when he reached the bottom I threw him my suitcase. I heard him struggle with my suitcase as he caught it.
“Dang Ren! What do you have in this thing?”
“Let’s see…a couple changes of clothes, my brush, toothpaste, toothbrush, lighters, incenses, candles and my book collection. Not much…”
“Dude! That’s a crap load of stuff!”
“Kind of…but it could be worse. I could be…”
“Never mind it! We need to get out of here. My cousin is waiting.”
“O.K! Hold your horses!” He giggled under his breathe after I said that phrase.
“What’s so funny?!” I said this as I climbed down the ladder.
“Who in the world says ‘Hold your horses!’ anymore?” He barely got his sentence out he was laughing so much.
“There are plenty of people that still say that! ...” I looked down at the ground and kicked some dirt around as I was doing so I kind of made a pouting face.
“I just don’t know who any of them are.”
“I’m sure there are and one day we shall meet these people, but we’re not going to meet anybody if we don’t start moving.” With that Jake grabbed my hand and started to run and pull me along with him toward the side road on which we would follow until it ran into the main road where we would meet Jake’s cousin. But just as the rubber of our soles were about to hit the gravel road, that's when Satan himself appeared to once again bring my world to a screeching halt…

Part: X

“Let go of me. You’re hurting me! You can’t do this to me! Where is Jake?!”
My father had seized me and my accomplice before we even took three steps on the cheap, gravel, wannabe road. He was dragging me up the stairs by my ankles, like a farmer would do to a chicken as it took it in to the backroom to be murdered and de-feathered. Right as we reached the top of the stairs, my head collided with the top step and my whole world turned dark.
So what could I do? I was unconscious, defenseless and my only hope was probably being murder somewhere in the house by my beloved mother and sister. What was I to do?

***

I’m not to sure what happened in the minutes following my unconsciousness. All I know is when I woke up I was surround by an angry glow of orange. The glow danced a violent and piercing dance. The room smelled of burning wood and my skin seared. It took a couple of second for me to become fully aware of what was going on. The house was on fire and I was trapped in my room. I scanned the room frantically, thinking I might find a way out or something to help me escape. It was than that I spied my father on the ground, slowly being devoured by the flames.
I was encircled by the violently glowing flames and every second they seemed to get closer and closer, slowly suffocating me of any chance of escape that I may have had. But just as I was about to go under from smoke inhalation, I heard a voice call from out of the flames.
“Ren,” It called again from the flames.
“Where are you?!”
It was than I realized that it was Jake. My savior was alive and coming to rescue me, but how? It was bad enough he was still running around this flaming building, let alone if he would to come in to this fire coffin which was once my room.
“Ren!”
“Jake, I’m in here! Help!”
“Don’t worry, Ren. I’m coming!”
All of the sudden, there was a fitful hammering at the blazing door. The wooden obstacle was sizzling and creaking from the searing fire and Jake’s rhymthic blows. It wasn’t long until the hinges broke off and down went the door extinguishing some of the flames, only to be engulfed again by the still aflame room.
He should there in the door way. He seemed to be examining how he was going to come in the room and retrieve me. He back away from the door and move to the left out of view. I began to panic.
“I know he saw me. He’s not just going to leave me here!” I thought myself
Within seconds, right when I was going to call for him, Jake stepped back in view with something over his shoulder.
“What the hell is that” I thought
He slowly slid the body off his shoulder on to the charring door. I stared at the object and it did not take me long to figure out what it was. It was the body of my mother. I sat there in shock. I was happy that I would have to take her bitching anymore but the fact that she was dead – that Jake had to of killed her sent chills up my spine.
Jake began to walk over my deceased mother over to me.
“Ren, grab my hand!” I ignored his command, terrified of touching his hands knowing what he had to have done with them. He must have read my eyes.
“It’s OK, Ren. It was the explosion that did her in.” said Jake.
I stared in to his eyes, completely dumbfounded by all that was going on. It was than that Jake climbed toward me and lifted me up. He carried me out of my bedroom door and set me upon on the floor.
“We’re going to have to crawl the rest of the way. I can’t carry you the whole way. We will surely die if I do; if not by smoke inhalation, than exhaustion.
I nodded my head and we made our way down the hallway. We stayed close together and low to the ground. The closer we got the stairwell the hotter it got.
“Listen, Ren. We’re about to go down the stairs. Be careful. Stay close behind me.”
“O.K” I said as he turned toward the opposite side of the hallway and began to crawl backward down the stairwell. When he was at least five steps from the top stair, I began to make my way down as well.
By the time I was at the middle stair he was at the bottom. The heat had let up a bit but it was still really hot and the smoke was very thick. I couldn’t stop coughing and my eyes were starting to water. Jake called from the bottom of the stairs.
“Hurry, Ren! We haven’t much time! The house will surely implode soon!”
Just as he finished that statement, the stairwell began to tremble and than it moved from the stairwell to the walls. The house was about to give way. The stairs started to collapse.
I called to Jake, “GET OUT! SAVE YOURSELF!” Some of the ceiling came down making it impossible to reach me and seconds later the stairwell did as well.

Part: XI

He fell to the ground with his legs crossed in front of him. He just sat there and watched hell destroy itself. How it seared the pupils of his eyes. She lies in a fiery coffin returning back to her natural state – back to the soil that gave her everything; stuck for eternity with the family that gave her nothing. Now she pays that debt to the terra. He sat there, just watching these vibrant colors of red and orange slowly paint the house black.
“Guess what, Ren?” He uncrossed his legs and moved his blacken hand, slowly up his semi-charred pants, to his pocket. He sifted through his pocket, until he found a small wrinkled up piece of paper. He unfolded the paper, and he tried to smooth it out.
“I finished it, Ren.” He stared at the piece of paper in front of him.
“I finished the poem, Ren. I wrote it for you. Do you want to hear it?”
A warm breeze passed through his hair and over his face. The wind whispered through the hollow trees amongst him. Jake smiled and began to read:
The destruction of something so small and insignificant, causes a ripple effect and the destruction of everything significant.
Take away the simple insanities
You take away the progress – the evolutions of the world
Bleach away the colorful ideas and be left with conflicting blacks and whites
Take the life of a simpleton and create a mushroom cloud of disheartened souls and bloody tears
A drop of split blood emancipates the voices of the voiceless
All she wanted was freedom
She wanted someone to help carry the burden, but not even the gods themselves could have helped her
A martyr for herself
A martyr for many who know nothing of her existence
Love could not defer her off the stone engraved pathway
So now she lies amongst the animosity
Like a rose in the winter
The wind one by one plucks another petal from this beautiful head
Her body encircled by her beauty
Even death has sympathy
Her beauty to great to be destroy
Her death to dramatic to be forgotten
Young life wasted upon a battle that no one should face alone
So the gods honored her death by painting her demise in the evening sky, showing even in death there is beauty
And with the last words parting his lips, the poem sailed through the air toward the slowly dying house. It was like a second sunset, and she was the sun…

-Fin-