Thirsty Soul

The rain finally came yesterday and I was inspired!

I welcomed the boom of the thunder like vodka warming my insides. The palm trees rustle and hit my glass window every few seconds, begging me to be mesmerized at the grass, wet with the rain’s kisses. Darkness seemed so beautiful, as it permeated throughout the sky. The mist glided slowly across the high, majestic mountains, brown and green, creating a beautiful contrast. The cool breeze slowly reached under my shirt, and caressed my skin, stroking its long fingers across my stomach. I smiled, in two long months I finally smiled.

Call me strange, but I rather the dark skies and sound of rain hitting the fragile leaves. I breathe in the scent of the liquid falling from the Heavens on the Earth, lighting up my room with the sweet aroma of nature.  The sun has the ability to expose emotions that I am willing to hide.  The puffy clouds remind me too much of a children’s TV show, and the blue sky is a little too friendly for my grim expression and anti-social attitude.

I was never the typical girl, my mother named me Lucy, a name for a girl who loves pink and tiaras. I wore ripped jeans and scaled from tree to tree, doing my best jungle boy impersonation. I preferred black when excited mothers ran their fingers along yellow sunshine dresses for prom. I tore mine, and exposed a little more than my mother wanted. She curled her lips, making her face appear deformed, and folded her arms across her chest. We stared at each other, until the tears started falling miserably from her old, baggy eyes.

At sixteen I left, not in body, but mind. We communicated in mumbles, and roamed through the house at night like ghosts. My skin was pale, almost translucent; but Jason, my first boyfriend didn’t mind running his fingers inside my underwear, and softly kiss the spots where the moon shone. I felt the moisture from my mother’s eyes seep through the walls.

She was pressed against the wall in her room, as usual and her broken spirit stood in front of me. I lay naked with a boy under my arms; I would blow the smoke from my cigarette towards the wall, reminding her that I haven’t changed.

He would leave me, cold and unclothed under the sheets, never bothering to kiss my cheeks or smell my hair. He closed the door without respect, which made me jerk, coming back whenever he chose, whether the day after or weeks. Jason ditched me, after he saw us in the light one day. He witnessed our hatred and grew distant and afraid of my heartlessness. I got paler and my hair darker.

My mother grew weaker with stress, and I witnessed her dying every day. Her lips sealed and her eyes concentrated on the ceiling, until it was night and she closed her eyes, grateful to forget me and the world for a few hours.

When she finally left, I drank all the liquor in her cabinet, and forced myself to sob in front of strangers. I ran my hands through her Givenchy and Lanvin, and took her Louis Vuitton, stuffing them in my overnight bag. I left her house, not even bothering with the legal issues. I walked and kicked the dust on my boots and on my jeans, humming to myself. Her expensive scent seeped through the closed bag, until it appeared as though her hands were gripping my neck. I threw the dress from my bag, and walked on, humming and keeping the image of my mother in my head.

“Lucy” a voice questioningly called to me in a far away city one day. I thought I had left Wisconsin behind.

“Yes” I replied boldly, raising my eyebrows. She wore her heels like sandals and brushed her golden hair aside, exposing her diamonds. I became even more interested. Turns out she was my mother’s cousin, and saw my mother written all over me. I lived with her for a few months, but the rising voices of her children and husband made me move on. I took a few pearls and earrings of course.

The rain is coming harder, and the Vodka is now bland, the familiar burn becomes an uncomfortable sting. The breeze no longer gives a soothing feeling, and my bed has grown cold and hard. The house is dark, and I lay, observing, with deep satisfaction, the war between nature on the outside. The fierce lightning threatens to frighten me, but I don’t even blink.

“Lucy” I hear my mother call, but I don’t answer, her eyes are red with crying, and her back bent and tired. I smile at her taking over my bedroom. The storm rages on, filling my ear and my heart, until I roll on my side, and get lost in deep slumber.

 

 

 

               

 

Reviews

[Rocans]

I totally agree with one of the comments. Most of your sentences has the emotional depth of poetry, you have a unique way of writing and I think your ability to describe the internal turmoil (emotions) of the narrator was quite masterful. It is clear that you are a good writer, since I could only pick up on just a few grammatical errors. You have made Lucy likeable already and I would like to see where she goes...perhaps some other stories could tell me just that. Keep writing, I think you have talent. :)

[ReneeJ]

Thank you soo much. This made my day!!

[Pax]

I think you have this signature intro that I recognize from the last story I had read from you... how your describes things and on which around the character, you do it like how many poets describes their emotions.... you do the mother and daughter concepts and their angst very well... there is a huge room for this to continue, still it can function a short story making a provoking read...

[ReneeJ]

Thank you for the feedback. I appreciate it :)

[Tom]

Perhaps the lack of a mother/daughter relationship and guilt borne from her mother's demise and eventual death, led Lucy to withdraw and be consumed by her own persona, so much so, that she became an elusive, non trusting, bitter individual ?

A thought provoking, interesting account of human character and personal relationship traits !

[ReneeJ]

Thank you! I created Lucy in a few minutes and didnt even know where I was going with her.

[NoelHC]

The use of language in this work intrigues me, I know it is English, but you have used it differently here, I feel like I am reading another language, very well, but at the same time, unfamiliar, foreign.
This is a good thing by the way.
I pictured the scene you painted very well, and want to hear more of Lucy.

[ReneeJ]

oh wow! Thank you for such a wonderful review. I will try to make Lucy even more interesting

[A. Amos]

Renee what I love about your writing...you always share something new. The start and the first line was magic, I was hooked right away. Truly felt your voice, well done!

[ReneeJ]

This means alot, thank you!

[A. Amos]

You're most welcome my dear!