Perfectly Normal

As I’ve reflected on all of the things I want to say, and all of the ways that I’ve changed, I’ve decided it’s time to leave my “teen” blog behind. I may still do some creative writing on here, but for the rest? I’m moving...

generation x: college is the best time of your life!

Study: Consuming 1oz of solid dark chocolate before bed during a full moon correlated with reduced (-.00003% over 20 years) heart disease in left-handed Filipino women ages 18-34.

Media: STUDY FINDS CHOCOLATE CURES HEART DISEASE

Scientists: That's not what we said!

She whispered into the wide hall, admiring the arches engraved with etchings of whirling roses and ferns, intricate designs trailing through the petals.

“Hello, Kana.” She spun on her heels towards the front of the room, immediately spotting a child with her same winter-flurry eyes, same winter-flurry hair, and a silken white dress that tumbled like ocean waves around her ankles, which dangled off the silver throne in which she sat. Her small face appeared as if it emerged from a waterfall of ice and silver, expression calm and languid. Kana looked up and met her gaze.

From a door to the side of the child came the padding sounds of a young woman walking. The coy woman emerged from the shadows of the doorway, a panther curling its tail around her calf, and the streaming trails of her scarlet dress brushing the ground. Her eyes glinted with the same subdued fury as those of the feline crouching below her. 

“I can’t tell you that,” he said, his sad eyes whispering to her fears. She collapsed into herself for a second before pulling her knees to her chest.

“I know,” she breathed. “I know.” 

“I can’t tell you that you won’t break, because you’re breakable. I know why people cheerfully claim no one can break, and I know why it’s a lie.  Someone can break your heart just by waking away. Someone can break your body with a kiss and a virus. You- you’re so breakable that it hurts you just to think about how breakable you are.”

“They told me that I was unbreakable, and that wasn’t true. But they told me I was breakable and that I could grow back stronger. I think I believed that, maybe. Just a bit. Because it’s so enticing to believe that nothing can trap you.”

“You can’t pick a metaphor because you can’t pick a name. If you believe you’re like a planarian, which is cut into three pieces but grows an entirely new body from each piece, then you believe nothing ultimately makes you weak. If you believe you’re like a tree whose branches are chopped off, then you believe each mistake requires you to repeat the processes you’ve already completed. The list goes on, the lies go on, and you have a million words that still can’t speak to your identity.”

“So,” her eyes flicked up to meet his. “What does it mean for me to break, then?”

“Do you remember that one girl uncle Dave brought with us like, seven years ago?” Kiva asked, turning a can of tomato sauce in her hand before tossing it into the grocery cart. 

“You mean his ex-daughter-in-law?” 

“She was blonde?”

“Mhm. I remember her. Why?”

“I still think of her sometimes. I mean, I know the marriage was short lasted and all that, but I just always remember that time we went Christmas shopping and she saw how much I wanted that one stuffed animal and she bought it for me the next night. Or like, how her smile was too big for her face, or how many conversations we had about depression, and then suddenly I never saw her again, you know? But I still feel like I saw her. Even if I didn’t know her, I saw her.”

“You should facebook her or something.”

“Nah,” Kiva grinned, “She would never remember me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Avery pulled her blonde hair away from her neck, revealing the bruises that spotted her neck from last night’s club. How many could she count this time? As she looked grimly into the mirror, a blurry, freckled face came to mind, grinning at her and saying, “One time, this kid at the playground pushed me into the mud.. He never did it again though, cuz later I stuffed his backpack with it.”

She almost laughed, that conversation was so long ago. She didn’t even remember the kid’s name, but they’d had so many conversations. They thought they understood depression back then, before they even knew what violence was, or what abuse was... but, she guessed, probably all humans understand sadness. Whenever she was sad now, she remembered that one kid bringing her flowers she’d accidentally pulled up from the roots. Hadn’t she pressed one of them in her journal?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Memory is so funny though,” Kiva murmered, glancing up and down the grocery list. “I don’t understand it... but I know it knows me. It’s like, why am I made from things I can’t even understand? If these stories all create me, why can’t I remember them? If I was building the foundation of a building, I would know every measurement of the structure, but here I am making my foundational self with a blindfold on... somehow I’m supposed to build on top of something I can’t even see. Like, where would I even place a brick if I couldn’t see the ground?”

“The idea of knowing yourself is almost laughable,” her mother agreed absently. 

“So many people make us and we don’t even remember them,” she murmered. “Maybe those are the ones we knew but never saw. Either way, though, I guess we always remember the most important people.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Do you remember that? And she-” Kindra burst out into laughing fits again. “She literally sang at the top of her lungs through this whole grocery store. I still have our best friends bracelet from when we were seven.”

“You should facebook her,” her mom suggested.

“Oh my gosh, I don’t know why I haven’t, actually. Or maybe I already did...” Kindra immediately disappeared into her phone. “I still think of her sometimes when I look at the scar on my foot actually... I was so stressed and sad when dad died, but I couldn’t bring myself to like, actually cut my wrists. She caught me and...”

“And told me. I know; I was there. You don’t just forget something like that,” her mother murmered, hurrying out of the pasta isle. “Hey, did you see that girl’s dress? You’d look good in something like that...I love the florals”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, do you remember Kindra?” Kiva’s mother asked, turning from the spaghetti sauce. “I heard through the grapevine that she was a camp counselor this last year.” She picked a piece of lint off of Kiva’s rose-filled sundress. “I could see you doing something like that.”

“Who?” Kiva asked, perplexed.

1. You can sleep anywhere.

2. Your flight miles number is quickly exceeding the numbers in your bank account.

3. Your resourcefulness has skyrocketed so much that you have re-pierced your ears with a floss threader or cut your hair with nail clippers... and it worked.

4. You are running out of every toiletry known to man, but at least you have a growing familiarity with the many uses of shampoo.

Her bare feet whispered across the grasses, finding their way to a rivulet laughing its way downstream. "Hi."

"Hi," a pair of surprised blue eyes stared up at her. The girl was sitting at the foot of a tree, cherub face tilted towards the water and pride echoing in her voice. 

"I'm angry at you. You left."

"I didn't leave, I was replaced," she indignantly responded. Atana fell next to her.

"You were never scared of people leaving," she whispered, suddenly quiet.

"I didn't know people left," she murmured. 

"And you were loud," a tint of envy filled her voice, as if she were trying to create a portrait with toxic paint.

"I was loud," she agreed. "And I didn't hear very much."

"But you saw everything."

"I know. I thought I did. But you said you see more now," her features arranged themselves in a puzzled expression. "You know you're actually the one that left. Why did you leave me then if it didn't help you?"

"I thought it did. But I think maybe you had just never burned your hand on the stove..."

"Was it worth it?"