Post by Tamika Dombrovski on Nov 19, 2007 22:00:12 GMT
40 minutes to go...
Forty minutes to go and she had nothing but an empty canvas and an empty quarter bottle of vodka.
Forty minutes to go and she would learn the truth about the lie called her life.
Forty minutes to go and she would have a mum, she wouldn't have to call that abusive excuse for a man 'father'.
Forty minutes to go until her Aunt Joselie arrived in Carsdale.
Tamika put her head in her hands and let the tears pour from her eyes. Tears for the lies, tears for the truth, tears for confusion, and tears just because she needed to show some form of emotion. Painting showed her emotions, but her creative mind was empty. She didn't even know where she got her creative ability from. Was she even creative, or were people just good at pretending to make her feel better about her art. They had always told her it came from her 'mum'. But now mum was a dead aunt, who had died from pneumonia, and her cool, young aunt was mum. And all those years of mental abuse she had suffered were just because Joselie decided to get pregnant at 14. Had she got pregnant of her own accord? Had she been raped? Why did Anastacia and Feliks take her? So many questions...
30 minutes to go...
Thirty minutes until she became even more confused. Her face was a colorful mess of Rimmel eyeliner and Mary Quant powder blue eyeshadow. She was curled into a shaking ball at the foot of her bed. The canvas and paints in front of her, waiting to be used and abused. Tamika blamed herself. If she hadn't been born none of this mess would have been created. She wouldn't be some freak who didn't know 100% who her parents were. Was Joselie telling more lies? Was any of this happening or had she just gone nuts? Was this a dream she just hadn't woke up from? She knew the Shining would eventually make her crazy, but this young? Surely this was too real to be fantasy. Maybe she should just leave. Run away, start a new life, then she could have three different lives, even more confusion. She could go to New Zealand, when Brad was back there she could start a life with him, if he wanted to be with someone who was too afraid to face the truth. Someone who knew nothing about herself.
20 minutes to go...
She needed someone. Someone to talk to. Someone to cry to. She couldn't. She had too much frustration, she would snap at them. Have even less people she was sure of... People just wanted to mess up her mind, make her angry, make her cry. Tamika screamed and slammed her fist down on the glass of water for painting, sending shards all over the carpet and some into her skin. The shards felt like a million little daggers, stabbing into her to stop her from thinking and make her concrentrate on the pain. Red liquid oozed out of her arm.
"Yarbles..."
Tamika got up and looked for one of her t-shirts. She looked in her drawers then under the bed. She eventually found the pale pink t-shirt she had worn in bed last night and wrapped it around her wrist, trying not to push the glass in even further. She staggered out of the room into the hall, looking for Will, or Brad, or someone she knew... She walked along, bouncing off the walls. Alcohol, tears and a lack of caring altering the way she walked. Her legs buckled beneath her a bit up the corridor, she leaned back against the wall.
One minute to go...
Why did Joselie have to tell her? Why couldn't she just leave it be? Why did anything happen? Because that which doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Bull. It could kill her if it wanted to. She couldn't care less anymore. Will and Brad may be upset, but at least she wouldn't have to think. Wouldn't have to spend years re-learning who she was.
"3, 2, 1..." Tamika whispered to herself. Her wrist was now bleeding heavily. Why bother heal it, it'll be a punishment, for being such and awful person my own mother didn't want me. Unconsciousness won the battle within her as her eyelids became heavy and closed. Her body slid from her position on the wall and she lay in a heap on the ground. Thanks Joselie...
Forty minutes to go and she had nothing but an empty canvas and an empty quarter bottle of vodka.
Forty minutes to go and she would learn the truth about the lie called her life.
Forty minutes to go and she would have a mum, she wouldn't have to call that abusive excuse for a man 'father'.
Forty minutes to go until her Aunt Joselie arrived in Carsdale.
Tamika put her head in her hands and let the tears pour from her eyes. Tears for the lies, tears for the truth, tears for confusion, and tears just because she needed to show some form of emotion. Painting showed her emotions, but her creative mind was empty. She didn't even know where she got her creative ability from. Was she even creative, or were people just good at pretending to make her feel better about her art. They had always told her it came from her 'mum'. But now mum was a dead aunt, who had died from pneumonia, and her cool, young aunt was mum. And all those years of mental abuse she had suffered were just because Joselie decided to get pregnant at 14. Had she got pregnant of her own accord? Had she been raped? Why did Anastacia and Feliks take her? So many questions...
30 minutes to go...
Thirty minutes until she became even more confused. Her face was a colorful mess of Rimmel eyeliner and Mary Quant powder blue eyeshadow. She was curled into a shaking ball at the foot of her bed. The canvas and paints in front of her, waiting to be used and abused. Tamika blamed herself. If she hadn't been born none of this mess would have been created. She wouldn't be some freak who didn't know 100% who her parents were. Was Joselie telling more lies? Was any of this happening or had she just gone nuts? Was this a dream she just hadn't woke up from? She knew the Shining would eventually make her crazy, but this young? Surely this was too real to be fantasy. Maybe she should just leave. Run away, start a new life, then she could have three different lives, even more confusion. She could go to New Zealand, when Brad was back there she could start a life with him, if he wanted to be with someone who was too afraid to face the truth. Someone who knew nothing about herself.
20 minutes to go...
She needed someone. Someone to talk to. Someone to cry to. She couldn't. She had too much frustration, she would snap at them. Have even less people she was sure of... People just wanted to mess up her mind, make her angry, make her cry. Tamika screamed and slammed her fist down on the glass of water for painting, sending shards all over the carpet and some into her skin. The shards felt like a million little daggers, stabbing into her to stop her from thinking and make her concrentrate on the pain. Red liquid oozed out of her arm.
"Yarbles..."
Tamika got up and looked for one of her t-shirts. She looked in her drawers then under the bed. She eventually found the pale pink t-shirt she had worn in bed last night and wrapped it around her wrist, trying not to push the glass in even further. She staggered out of the room into the hall, looking for Will, or Brad, or someone she knew... She walked along, bouncing off the walls. Alcohol, tears and a lack of caring altering the way she walked. Her legs buckled beneath her a bit up the corridor, she leaned back against the wall.
One minute to go...
Why did Joselie have to tell her? Why couldn't she just leave it be? Why did anything happen? Because that which doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Bull. It could kill her if it wanted to. She couldn't care less anymore. Will and Brad may be upset, but at least she wouldn't have to think. Wouldn't have to spend years re-learning who she was.
"3, 2, 1..." Tamika whispered to herself. Her wrist was now bleeding heavily. Why bother heal it, it'll be a punishment, for being such and awful person my own mother didn't want me. Unconsciousness won the battle within her as her eyelids became heavy and closed. Her body slid from her position on the wall and she lay in a heap on the ground. Thanks Joselie...
