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Littlemissdarkness is not dark or depressing.
A guide into things that aren’t easy to see or understand.
Step into the dark and let me show you what you Can’t see.
There is more to us than the sometimes unbearable darkness. Reach out to find what is not always seen. Beauty isn’t always fed by light. Sometimes beauty is the dark. Faith and love are two powerful entities that can only be felt.
I posted a summary of what I’ve been through in this lifetime, but that’s not who I am. Writing about what makes me whole will be more difficult and a challenge I am willing to accept. I could simply say I do not like pickled herring, or cows tongue and balk at anything that has the consistency of mucous. Ugh. Okay, so let’s see.
I’m not perfect. I have endearing flaws and annoying quirks. I laugh when something is funny… or not so funny. I have a tendency to laugh when someone gets hurt (not tragically) in an unusual way, but that’s a family trait. My children are not fond of that particular trait. One day I can be completely high on life, when someone cuts me off, I sigh. Then there are days when I want to bite the world in the ass. Those days are fortunately fewer and far between.
I’d like to say I’m one hundred percent non-judgmental, but that would be inaccurate. There are times I am vulnerable. And those are the times when I make judgments. If I’m feeling bad about myself, thinking I’m unworthy, ugly, stupid and so on, I project these negative traits onto others. Where I normally would smile at someone who is frowning, I instead make a judgment about how inconsiderate they are to add their issue to my, already, destructive state of mind. Once again, as I progress into personal acceptance these occurrences are on the verge of extinction.
My actions do and don’t reflect who I am. Each individual moment can steer me in many directions. If I’m stressed, I will react in an irritated manner. What I am feeling at that time will guide the course of my reaction and so thus must I accept that others are the same, and not to rush to judgment.
I still feel I haven’t touched on who I am. Am I my personal thoughts? How I treat others? How I react to challenges? What I would do to defend my children? The strength of my loyalty to others? What I forgive? Maybe one day I will be able to answer these accurately, but for now I am a work in progress facing challenges head on, accepting, not always humbly, changes in my life, working for what I want and offering my love and devotion to those willing to accept the forever changing me.
Maggie sat in her car watching Kyra and her colleagues move through the shadows carrying the men into an abandoned warehouse. Every so often Kyra caught Maggie’s eye and Maggie always turned away first. A battle was going on in the detective’s mind. Maggie could see the tension lines between her eyes. She wasn’t having trouble with what would happen inside the warehouse, Maggie, she knew, looked forward to dishing-up some justice for her brother. So what troubled her?
As turned to leave her people to prepare the men for a conversation, Stan grabbed her elbow and pulled her aside. “This will not end well. They know who she is,” he said.
She wrenched her arm out of his grasp. “I have a plan. And when did you grow a conscience?”
“Kyra, you’re getting in too deep.” He snapped. “I don’t care about those thugs or the fucked up cop. I care about you.”
She laughed sadly. “There’s nothing more than a job between us, Stan. When this is over…it’s over. Happy now?” She turned to leave.
He stepped in her way. “Not really. I don’t believe you.”
“Well then you’re going to have to trust me.” She hated that he was closer to right than he knew. Hated herself for dropping her guard for Maggie. But she looked on the bright side; maybe this was the case that ended her misery.
“Get them ready. We’ll be in, in ten minutes,” She wouldn’t allow him to get in her way again.
Kyra got into the passenger seat without looking at Maggie. “You ready for this,” she said.
“Yes.” Maggie said, distractedly.
Kyra took a long breath before looking at Maggie. “There’s no going back.”
“I hadn’t planned on it. I’m living moment to moment.”
Maggie’s tone broke her self-preservation rule and once again Maggie had gotten inside her head. “What’s happened?”
“I just got the call. My brother died an hour ago.”
Weekly Writing Challenge: 1,000 Words
That is the day I realized I was different from everyone else. I remember sitting on the merry-go-round across the street in daycare wondering why me? I spent a lot of time on the broken ride watching the other kids run around playing tag, kick ball, trying to make hoops in the too high basket. They didn’t want to play with me anymore. A month ago, by accident, I let my secret out. I didn’t mean to. Mommy said that there are others out there like me, but not to tell my friends because they wouldn’t understand. Why would my friends abandon me for something that I didn’t have any control over? It didn’t make any sense. I stuck by Tommy when he sneezed in the library and got snot on his book and everyone called him snotty Tommy for a week.
Okay so this is what happened. Me, Tommy and Annabel were playing hopscotch. Katie and Greg were yelling at each about the rules to a game they’d made up. They always make up games and they always spend most of playground time fighting about the rules. Billy as usual swung high on a swing. Raymond and Mark were teeter-tottering.
I threw the rock into square three and was about to hop into one when Cornelius appeared. I mean literally… appeared. He’d been appearing to me for as long as I can remember. This wasn’t a normal visit. Cornelius looked very upset. He kept pointing at Billy. I saw a terrible sight in my head and started screaming. I yelled at Billy to get off the swing and go inside. I screamed at everyone to go inside. Ms. Cane stomped toward me. She would take me inside and Billy would get hurt, really hurt or die. I ran to Billy’s favorite action figure leaning against the fence, grabbed it and ran toward the door. Billy jumped off the swing and ran after me. All the other kids and teachers ran after me, following me into the cafeteria. That’s when the big boom came. A loud crashing sound that hurt my ears. Everyone froze. I ran to the window and saw a car on fire with part of the swing set inside the front window. Cornelius Appeared again, just outside the window I glared out from. He looked so happy, jumping up and down clapping his hands doing our funny dance. I laughed and starting dancing along with him. That’s when everyone tore their eyes away from the sounds of glass breaking outside to gape at me. “Cornelius saved Billy’s life,” I blurted out.
Ms. Cane ushered us into another room, further from the playground. Sirens drowned out the roar of fire. Ms. Cane pulled me aside and asked me who Cornelius was. I told her he was my imaginary friend. I also said that he showed me what would’ve happened if I didn’t get Billy off the swing set. Mark called out to the others that I had an imaginary friend and all the kids started to laugh. Ms. Cane shushed him.
But it was too late.
Now a month later no one would talk to me. They weren’t mean or anything. They just wouldn’t talk to me. Cornelius looked down on me from the window. He was sad, too. I started decided to count the bricks on the building across the street when a shadow crossed my view. Billy stood over me and then sat in front of Jiminy Cricket and handed me an Oreo cookie. I looked at the cookie. I looked at him and then I looked at the others playing. He took a bite of his cookie and said, “Thank you for saving my life.”
I said all I could say. “You’re welcome.” And ate my cookie.
] Going fast in a fishing boat out in the bay by my grandmother’s house. The smell of fresh gnocchi laid out on a table while tomato sauce simmers on the stove. My cousins, we called ourselves the wacky cousins, sang and danced in the basement to grease and songs on old 45s. Being yelled at for dropping a stone on my cousin Ralph’s head. I don’t know why I did it. Fighting in the house in the middle of the night waking me up. My father coming home and getting drunk. He was a cop. abad one. The fighting over other woman and the lies he spewed to us that we believed until we got older. Playing o the stairs at my Mom’s mom’s house while they played cards. Sometimes grandma’s friend took off their shirts and we had to stay outside. I remember a reoccurring dream where I was afraid of the basement and would always end up locked down there. Running from my father. I don’t know if it was a dream. but I felt real all these years. I remember my sister and mother fighting. My sister had what she wanted to do and my mother had other ideas. I remember the moment I realized why my mother was so protective. I matured a lot that day and decided to stay in the dark so as not to cause her more fear. I remember the hell I went through in school. Sometime after kindergarten I developed a target on my back. I never knew why and now I don’t care. I remember being spit on, made fun of and even taunted into fights. Fighting was easy. I was used to that, but I didn’t gain skill and confidence until much later on so I didn’t always win. I do now. I remember making my first really good friends. fellow outcasts. My family would question me as to why these were my friends. They didn’t get it. These people were like me. Different, weird and socially inept… like me. And they were there for me. But like everyone else people saw them for what they looked like or their unique outlook on life. I am a better person today for having such broad minded misfits in my life. I remember the day my father went to jail. It’s when I stull cared about him. I didn’t really think he would go. Who would? I went to school and broke down. My best friend and a teacher let me cry. High school is where I was rewarded for all I’d been through.
I met who would be the best person in my life, My husband. The moment our eyes met my world changed. Because of my father, I hated men, but this boy floored all my hate, picked me up and lifted me onto cloud nine. I remember being conflicted. I loved this boy instantly but there was no way in hell I would let him hurt me. If my father could do what he did to a beautiful loyal woman like my mother, who was I to be treated any better. Billy was persistent. Called everyday. We talked more than once everyday. We would hang out. He introduced me to dungeons and dragons. lol. My mother, at the time, basically pushed me out the door because I was such a home body. Of course later when she realized I had feelings for him, she did everything to break us up. Her fears reared their ugly heads. She didn’t understand that he gave me security, unconditional love, loyalty above and beyond the call of duty. Initially I gave him hell. My fears grew teeth and bit hard. Yet through every stupid test I put him through he stayed and just loved me. (this has not been proofread or edited in any way. I hope you like it. Ill read it in a few days)
Mel Evers wonders about it all 