Status: in progress. i'm kinda just winging it and writing as i go.
The Haven
Distractions
My shoes slosh through sidewalk puddles. I stand on one foot and rip off one of the hellish heels, then repeat the process with the other shoe. My feet have blisters from walking five blocks in those stupid cheap heels. I wouldn’t have worn them, fresh out of the box, if I had known I’d be trudging through the rain to get home at 2 AM. Stupid.
-
Dangling my heels by my side, I move forward, trying to count raindrops since there are no stars anymore. At least not here with the street lamps. There are no stars anymore. No goals. Just distractions, and maybe…a baby-fleck of hopes?
-
I stop and sit on some concrete steps, leading up to an apartment building. The glow from its lobby shrouds over me and I feel this strange sinking feeling. It’s a sensation that makes me think that if it weren’t for gravity, my shadow would have fled from me by now.
-
I throw my head into my hands and sneak glances between my fingers at the dark fuzzy form breaking the light coming through the glass door. As the rain slows from the sky, thunder and lightning strike through my heart. And then my eyes become like warplanes in the clouds, dropping my feelings like bombs down my cheeks. I try to remember what Edith said at the last support group/Narcotics Anonymous meeting I went to-- something about storms in the bayou, when she lived in Louisiana; something about storms I forget.
-
A black shadow glides in beside mine. I turn to see a man approaching the door. What’s supposed to say “Concord Apartments” is stamped in green lettering on the glass, but the second “A” and “E” are both missing, and half of the “M” is gone. The door handle twists.
“Miss, is everything alright?”
-
I stand up as I break out of my thought-wanderings/screaming thoughts into the silence of the rainy night. I must look bad; barefoot, blistered, and soaking wet with mascara’d cheeks.
-
“Do you have a phone?”
-
“Come on.” The man says as he waves his hand and widens the door to let me in.
-
I grab my shoes from the steps and with caution, slowly go on inside.
-
“You don’t seem too sure about it, do ya?” he kindly chuckles, as he shuts the door behind me. He moves ahead, shuffles in his pocket, and pulls out a set of keys.
-
I stay silent and look around the room. There’s a staircase, a small elevator, some mailboxes, and three doors. One the ceiling, a light flickers gently. When my eyes meet the man’s face again, I watch it head and eyes scale down to my feet. I do the same, and discover that I am standing in my own personal puddle. Droplets fall from the hem of my dress, from the ends of my hair, and from the bottom of my shoes, then crash onto the tops of my feet and roll down my shins; exploding as they hit the linoleum floor.
-
The man sighs. I squeeze my eyes shut and brace myself for him to yell at me and kick me out. I scramble to rest a free hand on the door handle behind me. Maybe I should run now, so I don’t have to deal with him being upset with me. Maybe I should run because he might hurt me. Ugh. Yes? No?
-
“I’m going to have to get the wet floor sign, now, aren’t I? Heh, heh, heh.”
-
I throw my eyes open. The man is laughing at me.
-
“Don’t take my giggles too personally, ya hear? When life presents the opportunity, you gotta take it, you just gotta (take it). Or else everything is going to be grey and sad. We can change what we can, right? mmhmm...” He rambles on loud then to a whisper, and going on to end in humming.
-
Dangling my heels by my side, I move forward, trying to count raindrops since there are no stars anymore. At least not here with the street lamps. There are no stars anymore. No goals. Just distractions, and maybe…a baby-fleck of hopes?
-
I stop and sit on some concrete steps, leading up to an apartment building. The glow from its lobby shrouds over me and I feel this strange sinking feeling. It’s a sensation that makes me think that if it weren’t for gravity, my shadow would have fled from me by now.
-
I throw my head into my hands and sneak glances between my fingers at the dark fuzzy form breaking the light coming through the glass door. As the rain slows from the sky, thunder and lightning strike through my heart. And then my eyes become like warplanes in the clouds, dropping my feelings like bombs down my cheeks. I try to remember what Edith said at the last support group/Narcotics Anonymous meeting I went to-- something about storms in the bayou, when she lived in Louisiana; something about storms I forget.
-
A black shadow glides in beside mine. I turn to see a man approaching the door. What’s supposed to say “Concord Apartments” is stamped in green lettering on the glass, but the second “A” and “E” are both missing, and half of the “M” is gone. The door handle twists.
“Miss, is everything alright?”
-
I stand up as I break out of my thought-wanderings/screaming thoughts into the silence of the rainy night. I must look bad; barefoot, blistered, and soaking wet with mascara’d cheeks.
-
“Do you have a phone?”
-
“Come on.” The man says as he waves his hand and widens the door to let me in.
-
I grab my shoes from the steps and with caution, slowly go on inside.
-
“You don’t seem too sure about it, do ya?” he kindly chuckles, as he shuts the door behind me. He moves ahead, shuffles in his pocket, and pulls out a set of keys.
-
I stay silent and look around the room. There’s a staircase, a small elevator, some mailboxes, and three doors. One the ceiling, a light flickers gently. When my eyes meet the man’s face again, I watch it head and eyes scale down to my feet. I do the same, and discover that I am standing in my own personal puddle. Droplets fall from the hem of my dress, from the ends of my hair, and from the bottom of my shoes, then crash onto the tops of my feet and roll down my shins; exploding as they hit the linoleum floor.
-
The man sighs. I squeeze my eyes shut and brace myself for him to yell at me and kick me out. I scramble to rest a free hand on the door handle behind me. Maybe I should run now, so I don’t have to deal with him being upset with me. Maybe I should run because he might hurt me. Ugh. Yes? No?
-
“I’m going to have to get the wet floor sign, now, aren’t I? Heh, heh, heh.”
-
I throw my eyes open. The man is laughing at me.
-
“Don’t take my giggles too personally, ya hear? When life presents the opportunity, you gotta take it, you just gotta (take it). Or else everything is going to be grey and sad. We can change what we can, right? mmhmm...” He rambles on loud then to a whisper, and going on to end in humming.