it was winter 2009 when i found a bad omen in the middle of the tiled kitchen floor
a piece of god in the east coast’s rural nowhere, virgin mary in her bright red cape
i was still living in the old white trailer behind the burgundy door, the one haunted by past failed relationships and broken promises
i peered down at the little bad omen, staring up at me with beady black eyes
it’s body was a conglomerate of ruby and obsidian, a dome with six protruding limbs
instantly, i felt attached to the small being at my feet
i suppose i was projecting; i always felt small, a tiny pebble surrounded by menacing mountains, a mere mortal taunted by heaven’s angels
a girl who would never quite fit into her own skin
i made the omen into my own
i gave it a name so that it no longer felt like something separate from me, so far away, and more like a new close friend
i made it a home in the cold palm of my childish hand, a gated place that no one ventured
i fed it little patches of green from our milky 90’s refrigerator, nourishing it’s beetle body
the omen became my responsibility, the baby of my baby self
it was three days of maternal joy; i loved it like no other
on the third, christmas day, the virgin birth, a tragedy occurred
it passed away, it’s lifeless form lying peacefully in the house i wove with my own flesh
i cried like i’d never cried before, tremors of tears erupting from me like magnitudes
something as meaningless as a speck on my floor meant everything to me
it made me, miss nothing, feel like something, everything
and it died under my care
a snow angel bled out in my hands
i soon realized that nothing was safe; everything i touched would break
everything i loved would groan and suffer and perish while i watched, unable to prevent their dreadful fate
tortured by my unlucky presence
i retreated back into my skin, into my little hole of nothingness and shut the door
i had been cursed by the ladybird i found on my tiled kitchen floor in the old white trailer in east coast’s rural nowhere
a glimpse of what’s to come
