First Blog Ever!!!!!!!!
Sweat dampened Arria's flannel pajamas as her bed sheets tightened around her in a constricting hold. Arms and emotions flailed in a frenzy of anxiety and hatred. Yet amidst all the confusion, she held the gun steadily as he stood, hysterical before her. All the pain he put her through, all the love and despise that consumed her accumulated in this one moment, and just as she pulled the trigger…
Arria bolted upright as she remembered the same dream, the same ending, and the same loneliness. Rain and ice pummeled the roof of her red brick house; held back only by the careless, overbearing oak trees. She stepped onto her balcony unaware of the ferocity of the storm or the freezing drops that stung her face and soaked her already damp clothes. All she felt was the all too familiar hole within her. The hollowness had become her sustenance. Like a body feeding off of the cancer spreading inside, she depended on it to remind her of how she was the victim. All her actions and emotions were justified as long as she remembered she was the victim.
As morning came the sleet had subsided to a depressing mist that caused the people to hide beneath their layers complaining about the unusual weather. Arria hurried along the sidewalk avoiding the streams that collected in the streets. She laughed at the irony of a soaked rabbit's foot lying in the mist beneath a broken mirror in a shop window. She welcomed the new weather pattern; sun seemed inappropriate now. She pushed the revolving door and breathed in the thick scent of cinnamon and spices which permeated the decadent lobby of Laughlin, Speare & Tulsa Inc. The cheery holiday music did little to thaw the chill she had learned to embrace. The bright red blooms of poinsettias and holly berries overwhelmed each balcony, banister and column. Sometimes, clients would stall in front of the revolving door catching their breath and recovering from the overload of their senses. Arria just pushed past them in disgust and scampered to her desk.
"Good morning, Arria!" exclaimed her assistant. "Did you have a good weekend?"
"Fine; any messages?"
"Oh yes! You got the Ming case and Mr. Speare would like to meet with you before the board meeting. Maybe it's about the partnership, Miss Arria! Oh, I bet he's…"
"Is there anything else?"
"No ma'am. Sorry. Nothing else."
"Thank you. You can go now. Make sure to shut the door behind you."
Arria embraced the silence and the demands of her job; really, anything that preoccupied her. Being the youngest Head Advertising Consultant had its perks. She had a personal assistant, a spacious office lathered with stained oak furnishings, leather couches and masterpieces dotting the walls. She had giggled with excitement when she first stepped foot into her own little oasis on the seventh floor overlooking the downtown coffee shops and skyscrapers. This is everything she had worked so hard for. The four years of honors courses at the prestigious private university, the many summers of internships and extra classes and the thousands of dollars her parents gladly sacrificed had finally paid off. Everything was perfect. She came from the perfect small-town family, had the perfect education and now the perfect future. Arria snapped herself out of her redundant reverie before asking herself the same question…so why do I feel so alone?
The day passed uneventfully. The meetings, cases and research pushed the nagging questions aside until she stepped into the cold again. She dreaded being alone in her penthouse apartment. She had gone out with a good guy a week after the breakup. He was handsome, wealthy, respectful and witty. She detested the thought of going out with him again. She made polite conversation when he called back; she had been taught how to crouch behind her Southern charm. The second guy had waited a month to ask her out before "he just couldn't wait any longer." Arria looked forward to the coffee but dreaded the idea of entertaining yet another desperate young man seeking her affections. She laughed at his jokes, told him just enough about her family to make him think she was sharing a deep secret with him and acquiesced when he asked to go out again. He would pay for dinner and, besides, it would give her something to do Friday night. She pulled her knees up to her chest pretending she was cold when he tried to rub her arm during the movie and moved in for the kill during the credits. She called a cab to drive her home. The third guy was a local musician who used odd words like "skittles and chillaxin". She didn't even give him her number. By the fourth guy, Arria was numb. How many hearts did she have to break in order to heal her own? He was handsome, wealthy, respectful and witty. He paid for her dinner even when she picked one of the most expensive restaurants in town. He used quirky words like "hella and smashing". He seemed oddly familiar.
One afternoon at work she passed him in the hallway. Although the floor was full of business buzz and people rushing around, she only saw him. He looked professionally exquisite in his green and navy striped shirt rolled up to the elbows. She had always favored that shirt. It made his apple-green eyes dance. He held her gaze for a moment before continuing on. Just one moment made her unusually content the rest of the day. She allowed her assistant to go home early. The next day she woke with hope. Maybe this was the day. He would beg her forgiveness, confess his eternal love and she would run into his arms and never let go. He didn't even look at her during the board meeting that morning. He was all business once again. Suddenly, it hit her. It was over. All the hope she had built up was unfounded. His career was number one in his life right now. He would find someone else in due time and she hated him for it. She hated him for making her love him, for forcing her to plan her future with him in it and for making her believe she was the one. She hated him for all the laughter, all the flowers and all the security. But most of all she hated every time her stomach turned when she saw him, every time she couldn't make the words come out in a coherent thought when she confronted him and every ounce of hope she still carried.
That night as the rain and sleet pummeled her roof once more, Arria went for a walk. She was oblivious to the rain and ice that stung her face and soaked her pajamas.
She wandered aimlessly before she suddenly found herself in front of his door. No doubt he would be asleep, so she knocked loudly. He answered the door surprise filling his apple-green eyes before turning to mortification. Something seemed to constrict her body, but amidst all the emotions and hatred she held the gun steadily as he stood hysterical before her. She only had to pull one little trigger and it would all be over, but she simply couldn't do it. That realization woke her from her narcissistic nightmare, and suddenly the sleet stopped. There was no movement but she felt it fleeing. The loneliness seemed a vulgar source of comfort and the hollowness was not so inviting. She opened her eyes and suddenly the sun seemed appropriate now.
That's really good! Don't stop! :)
ReplyDeleteJennifer, you are a very good writer...you should definately write more :-)
ReplyDeleteKeep Writing! I want to hear more!
ReplyDeleteThanks, ladies! I enjoy writing, I just haven't done it since college!
ReplyDelete