Now That They Know
Now That They Know
Nothing would change now. Nothing would be different.
(Except, for the fact, that everyone has excluded me and everyone is ashamed to be in the same room as I.)
*
I had it all figured out. I had every single possibility, sinario, and solution. No one would ever know, no one would ever guess, no one would ever even think of it. Never, ever, would anyone discover my secret.
Until, of course, all of those possibilities, sinarioes, and solutions were ruled out and something happened that led to another, then another, and eventually all of my plans were disabled and everything that I never thought would happen, happened.
*
I am in a room, surrounded by all white. White walls, white carpet, white lights. And I realize that no one knows anything once I heard the door open and see twenty people so dear to me pile in, all smiling and innocent.
One more glace around the room and I blink, and suddenly everything is no longer white, but the room is now my living room. Blue walls, a couch, the recliner, and a television. Everyone is happy, happy to see me. I studied the room and I take a step towards my loved family and friends, but unexpectedly, they disappeared.
My breathing stops and I start to panic, seeing as how I had just witnessed my family evaporating within free air.
I start to sweat, but I am snapped back into reality and open my eyes physically, and find myself only dreaming.
*
I am alone.
No one understands.
Not since they know.
*
I have confirmed that my mom’s emotional status is now a train wreck.
My father has just confirmed to me that I, his seventeen-year old baby girl, is no longer part of the family, and I am not welcome in my home of seventeen long years.
My “friends” have made it quite clear that they do not want anything to do with me.
And, so, I have concluded that I am on my own, without a family, and without a home.
*
I am as my own person now, as I’ve already accepted, and walking down a lonely city road with only a twenty in my back pocket and a backpack filled with my essentials- my notebooks, clothes, and records.
I have not cried yet, since I am determined to keep myself in order and together.
I say I’m doing pretty good for being on the street for my first few hours.
*
There’s a feeling that separates the words ‘home’ and ‘homeless’.
I’ve denied my inner thoughts of such things, and made it clear to myself to the point that I have determined that
1.) the feeling that separates them is not love or warmth of a home, but it is
2.) freedom and
3.) emptiness, but also
4.) tiredness and
5.) hunger.
*
I finally decided that I needed to sit down and take a break because of all of the thoughts swirling around in my head.
At this end of the city, it is really uncommon to see people ‘just sitting around’. That is why I found it really weird that there was a girl who looked about my age sitting on the curb at the corner.
I walked to the cement curb and hesitated to sit down beside this girl, who I now saw was staring at the cars going by.
I choked back the coward side of me and managed to get words out.
“Mind if I sit beside you?” I slid the backpack off of my shoulder and plopped it on the ground.
She looked up at me, startled, if not surprised.
“Not at all.”
I sat down, relieved. “Hi.”
She had long, brown hair, ratted in a few places. She was wearing an old raggedy Old Navy shirt, and holey jeans. I was nearly absolute sure she was on the streets, too.
“Hi.” She smiled. She was nicer then she looked. “Where are you headed?”
I sighed. “I don’t…have an exact destination. But I doubt I’ll be able to find a decent place to sleep.” This was true. Even if there was a motel around here somewhere, there was no way I’d be able to afford it.
“So, you’re out on your own, too, huh?”
I stared at the ground and nodded.
“Tell me,” she laughed. “How does a freshly manicured, designer clothes-wearing, straightened-haired, pretty girl like you wind up on the streets?”
I was baffled. She had studied, and memorized, more details of me in the last five seconds then some people could manage in ten minuets.
“I am apparently, ‘a disgrace to humanity.’” I let out a small scoff, quoting my father.
She shook her head in understanding amazement. “Welcome to the club.”
I looked down at my shoes, noticing a raindrop on my sneaker.
I felt her gaze on me. “So, what’s your name?”
“Delilah. But you can call me Dee. Or Lie.”
She lifted herself off of the cement and stooped over me, holding her hand out. “My name’s Anna. I’m on my own, too.”
I grabbed her hand and she stiffly pulled me up.
“Do you need a place to crash?”
I noticed that she wasn’t quite smiling, but she still had an enthusiastic attitude.
“Yeah, seeing as how I’m without a bed.”
“I know a place.” She added. “You seem like you could use some sleep.”
We started walking across the street and soon we were blocks away from the curb we once sat on. We were talking the entire way, learning more and more about each other. And the whole time, I was beginning to realize that maybe she would be the only one who wouldn’t care if I was a lesbian.
(Except, for the fact, that everyone has excluded me and everyone is ashamed to be in the same room as I.)
*
I had it all figured out. I had every single possibility, sinario, and solution. No one would ever know, no one would ever guess, no one would ever even think of it. Never, ever, would anyone discover my secret.
Until, of course, all of those possibilities, sinarioes, and solutions were ruled out and something happened that led to another, then another, and eventually all of my plans were disabled and everything that I never thought would happen, happened.
*
I am in a room, surrounded by all white. White walls, white carpet, white lights. And I realize that no one knows anything once I heard the door open and see twenty people so dear to me pile in, all smiling and innocent.
One more glace around the room and I blink, and suddenly everything is no longer white, but the room is now my living room. Blue walls, a couch, the recliner, and a television. Everyone is happy, happy to see me. I studied the room and I take a step towards my loved family and friends, but unexpectedly, they disappeared.
My breathing stops and I start to panic, seeing as how I had just witnessed my family evaporating within free air.
I start to sweat, but I am snapped back into reality and open my eyes physically, and find myself only dreaming.
*
I am alone.
No one understands.
Not since they know.
*
I have confirmed that my mom’s emotional status is now a train wreck.
My father has just confirmed to me that I, his seventeen-year old baby girl, is no longer part of the family, and I am not welcome in my home of seventeen long years.
My “friends” have made it quite clear that they do not want anything to do with me.
And, so, I have concluded that I am on my own, without a family, and without a home.
*
I am as my own person now, as I’ve already accepted, and walking down a lonely city road with only a twenty in my back pocket and a backpack filled with my essentials- my notebooks, clothes, and records.
I have not cried yet, since I am determined to keep myself in order and together.
I say I’m doing pretty good for being on the street for my first few hours.
*
There’s a feeling that separates the words ‘home’ and ‘homeless’.
I’ve denied my inner thoughts of such things, and made it clear to myself to the point that I have determined that
1.) the feeling that separates them is not love or warmth of a home, but it is
2.) freedom and
3.) emptiness, but also
4.) tiredness and
5.) hunger.
*
I finally decided that I needed to sit down and take a break because of all of the thoughts swirling around in my head.
At this end of the city, it is really uncommon to see people ‘just sitting around’. That is why I found it really weird that there was a girl who looked about my age sitting on the curb at the corner.
I walked to the cement curb and hesitated to sit down beside this girl, who I now saw was staring at the cars going by.
I choked back the coward side of me and managed to get words out.
“Mind if I sit beside you?” I slid the backpack off of my shoulder and plopped it on the ground.
She looked up at me, startled, if not surprised.
“Not at all.”
I sat down, relieved. “Hi.”
She had long, brown hair, ratted in a few places. She was wearing an old raggedy Old Navy shirt, and holey jeans. I was nearly absolute sure she was on the streets, too.
“Hi.” She smiled. She was nicer then she looked. “Where are you headed?”
I sighed. “I don’t…have an exact destination. But I doubt I’ll be able to find a decent place to sleep.” This was true. Even if there was a motel around here somewhere, there was no way I’d be able to afford it.
“So, you’re out on your own, too, huh?”
I stared at the ground and nodded.
“Tell me,” she laughed. “How does a freshly manicured, designer clothes-wearing, straightened-haired, pretty girl like you wind up on the streets?”
I was baffled. She had studied, and memorized, more details of me in the last five seconds then some people could manage in ten minuets.
“I am apparently, ‘a disgrace to humanity.’” I let out a small scoff, quoting my father.
She shook her head in understanding amazement. “Welcome to the club.”
I looked down at my shoes, noticing a raindrop on my sneaker.
I felt her gaze on me. “So, what’s your name?”
“Delilah. But you can call me Dee. Or Lie.”
She lifted herself off of the cement and stooped over me, holding her hand out. “My name’s Anna. I’m on my own, too.”
I grabbed her hand and she stiffly pulled me up.
“Do you need a place to crash?”
I noticed that she wasn’t quite smiling, but she still had an enthusiastic attitude.
“Yeah, seeing as how I’m without a bed.”
“I know a place.” She added. “You seem like you could use some sleep.”
We started walking across the street and soon we were blocks away from the curb we once sat on. We were talking the entire way, learning more and more about each other. And the whole time, I was beginning to realize that maybe she would be the only one who wouldn’t care if I was a lesbian.