Beautiful Girl
This is a story I wrote a long wime ago...
Lidovve walked gracefully along the railing of the porch, one foot in front of the other, her arms extended and her lips apart, taking a breath after each step. She was waiting, but she couldn’t quite be sure for what. Maybe she was waiting for her mother and father to get home from work, maybe she was waiting for her piano lesson at five, or maybe she was just waiting for the minutes to pass, let them fall into place like puzzle pieces. She jumped gracefully, silkily down from the railing and on to her wood front porch. She debated whether or not to go inside, rocking back and forth, her hands in her pockets. Deciding to take the plunge she opened the door. She felt as if she were releasing a spirit, the essence of home, but not only that, the essence of coming home, a day done either well or not. Now she stood in her darkly lit entry hall, with wood paneling and green walls, shivering in the din, she quickly hurried out and into the hallway. The entry room always made her feel as if she were a stranger in her home. A guest who stopped by uninvited, but was still greeted with the pleasantness as though had been expected, still feeling the tension of the bad timing, or the peculiar entering of the room, when everyone was silently surprised. Lidovve walked down the red hall, just as gracefully as before. She reached a dark door near the end of the hall and opened it to the welcome of her room. She lay her books by a laptop that was hooked up to a switch on the backboard of her desk, then made her way to the back of her room, where she curled up on her waterbed. She ran her fingers along the cotton sheets and looked out the window. Outside the trees were bare, and she couldn’t see any birds except for a very small, jet black crow, perched on a tree not too far away, standing out against the dull brown and gray like an ink blot in the middle of a gradually fading piece of paper. Lidovve lay there for about a quarter of an hour, her homework done at school. Then she stood up, noticing the clock. It was 4; her favorite soap opera would be on soon she walked down the hall to the bathroom, black, brown, and gold, shimmering with lights from outside on the porch. She splashed some cool water on her face, but before she left, she dotted some makeup on her eyes her lips and her cheeks. Lidovve didn’t put on makeup so that other people could marvel at her artificial beauty. No, Lidovve put on makeup so that every minute of every day she would know she was beautiful. She wanted herself, her own mind and heart to think, no, not to think, to know she was beautiful.
It was the next day, Thursday. Today school was canceled because of conferences. It was raining outside, each raindrop pounding against the roof and resounding through the house like an echoing drum. Lidovve walked out of her room, she was planning to go to the movies alone today and watch a few, until the light of the day grew dim and she became scared of what lay on the streets that led home and left quickly. before she left her house, she listened to the rain that echoed throughout her house with every drop. she shivered in anticipation of the cold, and looked up at the ceiling as though she would be able to see how bad the weather was through it. but she decided that it would be fun, like a movie where the beautiful girl walks through the rain, laughing at the sky like a goddess on earth for just one day, just there to enjoy the feeling of the rain upon her skin. Outside she walked down the front porch stairs and a bit down the front yard, the sky was gray and the rain was soaking her clothes and hair, drenching them with the tears from the sky. She was just short of the end of her yard when she stopped and looked down, just in front of her soaked feet was a small black bundle. She bent low and turned it over, it was the small black bird she had seen earlier, tossed upon the ground, wet and dead. It lay upon the ground, like the lost glove of a child, thrown about in the wind and rain. She ran her fingers along its soft silky back, and lifted its head. She picked it up and placed it beneath some thorn bushes. Then looked up. The sky was gray; even more it seemed from just a few moments ago. She knew it was the bird she had seen earlier, for she knew of its heart, and the way that its soul touched her, and seeing it lying there, she felt something leave her, a feeling now lost to the world, another fading dot on the graying piece of paper.
She saw a movie that has long since left her memory, one that made her cry, and laugh, and sigh. Yet all movies did. For they were grand pieces of art, and she became frightened upon each visit, that she would be disappointed with what she witnessed, that it would be predictable, and that it would discard people like her for stupid, conformed little brats, with nothing more to them than the diamond earrings from daddy last Christmas. For that is what they often were, merely beautiful, rich, people talking about how you don’t have to be beautiful and rich to be happy, to be a good person. But Lidovve believed that she really did have to have her money too be happy, to be a good person. Lidovve shivered at the thought of what would happen to her if her money and looks were gone, she would have to rely on herself to be happy. And the truth was, she was not full of herself at all, not proud. In fact, she really did hate herself.
Anonymous Shrink thinks that Lidovve represents me. But she doesnt. She represents a thought I had once, that turned into a story. And nothing more. Hello Miss Anonymous. Hope he loves you soon, I am sure he will. I hope that Erin loves me soon too, although I dont deserve her, I am hoping she lets me have her anyways. I bet nothing will ever happen. Just my Fucking goddamn luck. Shit.
Lidovve
Lidovve walked gracefully along the railing of the porch, one foot in front of the other, her arms extended and her lips apart, taking a breath after each step. She was waiting, but she couldn’t quite be sure for what. Maybe she was waiting for her mother and father to get home from work, maybe she was waiting for her piano lesson at five, or maybe she was just waiting for the minutes to pass, let them fall into place like puzzle pieces. She jumped gracefully, silkily down from the railing and on to her wood front porch. She debated whether or not to go inside, rocking back and forth, her hands in her pockets. Deciding to take the plunge she opened the door. She felt as if she were releasing a spirit, the essence of home, but not only that, the essence of coming home, a day done either well or not. Now she stood in her darkly lit entry hall, with wood paneling and green walls, shivering in the din, she quickly hurried out and into the hallway. The entry room always made her feel as if she were a stranger in her home. A guest who stopped by uninvited, but was still greeted with the pleasantness as though had been expected, still feeling the tension of the bad timing, or the peculiar entering of the room, when everyone was silently surprised. Lidovve walked down the red hall, just as gracefully as before. She reached a dark door near the end of the hall and opened it to the welcome of her room. She lay her books by a laptop that was hooked up to a switch on the backboard of her desk, then made her way to the back of her room, where she curled up on her waterbed. She ran her fingers along the cotton sheets and looked out the window. Outside the trees were bare, and she couldn’t see any birds except for a very small, jet black crow, perched on a tree not too far away, standing out against the dull brown and gray like an ink blot in the middle of a gradually fading piece of paper. Lidovve lay there for about a quarter of an hour, her homework done at school. Then she stood up, noticing the clock. It was 4; her favorite soap opera would be on soon she walked down the hall to the bathroom, black, brown, and gold, shimmering with lights from outside on the porch. She splashed some cool water on her face, but before she left, she dotted some makeup on her eyes her lips and her cheeks. Lidovve didn’t put on makeup so that other people could marvel at her artificial beauty. No, Lidovve put on makeup so that every minute of every day she would know she was beautiful. She wanted herself, her own mind and heart to think, no, not to think, to know she was beautiful.
It was the next day, Thursday. Today school was canceled because of conferences. It was raining outside, each raindrop pounding against the roof and resounding through the house like an echoing drum. Lidovve walked out of her room, she was planning to go to the movies alone today and watch a few, until the light of the day grew dim and she became scared of what lay on the streets that led home and left quickly. before she left her house, she listened to the rain that echoed throughout her house with every drop. she shivered in anticipation of the cold, and looked up at the ceiling as though she would be able to see how bad the weather was through it. but she decided that it would be fun, like a movie where the beautiful girl walks through the rain, laughing at the sky like a goddess on earth for just one day, just there to enjoy the feeling of the rain upon her skin. Outside she walked down the front porch stairs and a bit down the front yard, the sky was gray and the rain was soaking her clothes and hair, drenching them with the tears from the sky. She was just short of the end of her yard when she stopped and looked down, just in front of her soaked feet was a small black bundle. She bent low and turned it over, it was the small black bird she had seen earlier, tossed upon the ground, wet and dead. It lay upon the ground, like the lost glove of a child, thrown about in the wind and rain. She ran her fingers along its soft silky back, and lifted its head. She picked it up and placed it beneath some thorn bushes. Then looked up. The sky was gray; even more it seemed from just a few moments ago. She knew it was the bird she had seen earlier, for she knew of its heart, and the way that its soul touched her, and seeing it lying there, she felt something leave her, a feeling now lost to the world, another fading dot on the graying piece of paper.
She saw a movie that has long since left her memory, one that made her cry, and laugh, and sigh. Yet all movies did. For they were grand pieces of art, and she became frightened upon each visit, that she would be disappointed with what she witnessed, that it would be predictable, and that it would discard people like her for stupid, conformed little brats, with nothing more to them than the diamond earrings from daddy last Christmas. For that is what they often were, merely beautiful, rich, people talking about how you don’t have to be beautiful and rich to be happy, to be a good person. But Lidovve believed that she really did have to have her money too be happy, to be a good person. Lidovve shivered at the thought of what would happen to her if her money and looks were gone, she would have to rely on herself to be happy. And the truth was, she was not full of herself at all, not proud. In fact, she really did hate herself.
Anonymous Shrink thinks that Lidovve represents me. But she doesnt. She represents a thought I had once, that turned into a story. And nothing more. Hello Miss Anonymous. Hope he loves you soon, I am sure he will. I hope that Erin loves me soon too, although I dont deserve her, I am hoping she lets me have her anyways. I bet nothing will ever happen. Just my Fucking goddamn luck. Shit.
posted by Anonymous Bitch at 8:15 PM
3 comments
