Month: March 2014

After the Bullies

lizaaitken

I watch from the window as you walk down the quiet street.  I’m tucked away in case you look around, I don’t want you to see me up here.  You walk stiffly, shoulders bent and head down, your arms straight and tight by your side.  Those arms should be swinging, you should look comfortable in your body, your head should be high and you should be at your full and beautiful size my wonderful girl.

I see you pause and I look beyond you, to see what has distracted you from your path.  I see the gang of teenage girls, younger than you are now, sitting upon the wall up ahead.  They wouldn’t appear threatening to many people, but to you I know they are a huge obstacle.  You stop for just a moment, I think you might turn around and return home but you cross the road to distance yourself from the group.  They don’t even notice you as you pass on the other side of the street, but I’m sure it doesn’t feel like that to you.  I’m sure just like me you’re holding your breath, waiting for a shout or something to be thrown.  There, my love its over, you made it and they are sure to be gone by your return in an hour, if not you can walk on the other side again, no one will notice.

I hate the bullies that did this to you, took away your teenage years when you should be laughing and maybe like the other girls sitting on the wall talking about boy bands and boyfriends.  I hate the fact that many of your hours are spent in your room with the curtains closed, listening to that awful music and writing in your diary.  I wish you didn’t wear black all the time, I really think you could do with some colour in your life.

Your diary shouts at me from across your room, spews out your hurt, it screams loudly your loss.  I would never open the cover and look but I can feel the pain inside those pages, feel your loneliness and hear your anger. 

I would take away your pain in a moment, carry it for you and more on top if I thought it would give you your youth back.  I know you will overcome this one day, know that you will have a wonderful life.  You are just too lovely not to and like attracts like in the end my darling I promise.

I’m still at the window just over an hour later as you return.  I duck behind the curtain as I see you turn the corner.  It has been a long hour for both of us but you won’t know that I have been watching for you as I sit down with my feet curled under me and open my book.    

The Step

lizaaitken

There was that creak on the stair again, I had wanted to get to sleep before it came but like most nights, I didn’t manage it.  The step that made that awful noise was the fourth up from the bottom, just as the staircase turned the corner as it headed upwards, towards me.  There were another ten steps after this and then just across the landing to my bedroom.  I held my breath and tucked my head under the bedcovers, waiting for the handle to turn.  Nothing, silence a painful wait in the dark.

 

My little sister slept soundly across the room, I could hear the mumble of her breathing.  I didn’t want to look around the room, not now in the dark, I knew that the shadows cast by the light from the hall would make the strangest of shapes.  That my toys that gave me so much joy in the daylight hours would appear sinister and if I saw, I might never want to play with them again.

 

Mum was moving about downstairs, humming to herself as she prepared herself for bed.  Who was it that had made the stair creak again tonight, nobody else lived in our house.  I had to get to sleep before mum finally went to her room, I couldn’t bear it if I was still awake after she turned off the lights in the hall.  I squeezed my eyes tight and prayed that sleep would come before the darkness filled my room, before the door opened and I would get to see who or what was on the landing.

 

I hated the stair that creaked, I never trod on it myself.  In my dreams, if I did it would open up and swallow me whole, take me to a place where my mum would never find me.  I would hold tightly onto the banister, however much I might be carrying, however hard I wanted the toilet and straddle myself over that creaky step.

 

Nobody else took any notice of the fourth step.  My sister ran up and down the stairs without thinking or counting, it appeared to me she didn’t realise what danger might be hidden under the stairs.   If mum shouted that she should be careful, it was of falling down, directing her to go slower and look where she was going.

 

Maybe our house was haunted, maybe the stair just creaked as the house cooled at night but whatever it was that made the noise, it never got me.

Tomorrow

lizaaitken

Tomorrow you might not be here anymore.  Tomorrow might not be the day after today, but there will be a tomorrow when you are gone.  I can’t imagine a tomorrow without you, where you are not in my world.  But tomorrow can wait because you are here today.  Today I can talk with you and tell you all the things you need to hear, how very, very special you are.

Lets first start with yesterday, not the day before today but all our yesterdays.  How we have walked many paths of experience together, shared many smiles and laughed out loud together.  How on that first yesterday, the yesterday we met, you loved me from the moment you saw me.  I’m not sure I remember how I felt, but I’m sure it was the same because I don’t remember ever not loving you.  We have spent a lifetime together, my lifetime anyway.  I know you started yours before me and mine might go on a little longer but knowing you is as old as my bones.  You are my oldest memory, my first memory and my forever memory.  Yesterday you taught me kindness, I copied you and it was easy.  Yesterday you showed me love and empathy, and because I received it from you, it became easy for me to show it to others.  Yesterday you listened to me, you have always listened to me and I understand the importance of listening to others.  You taught me a lot and what did I give you in return.  Yesterday I taught you fear, from the moment we met I know you feared you might loose me.  You feared for my safety and feared I might be hurt, you feared that I would be sad.  I tested you a little along the way with that lesson.  You taught me a little of that fear too, I’m fearful now for you.

Today you are in my life, today I can touch you, hold you, smell you.  I can look into your lovely blue eyes, be warmed by your smile and hear your voice.  Today I can see an aura around you that glows golden with your beauty.  There are angels in your aura, they add to the shine, they bathe in the pureness of it.  Today I can care for you, be there and show you how very special you will always be.

I am going to put yesterday, today and tomorrow in a jar and shake them up.  Shake them so they mix together and become one.  Shake them until they melt into one place and time that we will always share.

Testing my Resilience

lizaaitken

I was saying the other day how I was resilient, how I felt resilience came from how you coped with past experiences.  An ability to put yourself outside of a situation and not feel the pain of it, recognise the trauma but protect yourself from it.  I wrote it down, it was going to be included in one of my stories.

‘What about resilience, do we develop it here on earth or is this something we bring with us, learnt from the many challenges of the paths we have walked before. What is natural resilience anyway, I’m resilient but I know I have achieved this through my own experiences. I am able to deal with some traumatic situations by removing myself from the pain of them. Or am I still kidding myself, will the pain slap me around the face one day’.

You didn’t come home last night after work.  That’s okay you’re young and probably having fun, out straight from work on a Saturday night and forgot yourself.  I would have done the same myself at 25.  I texted you in the evening to say that I was going on Skype, so be quiet if you came in, you didn’t disturb me.

I went to bed at midnight and left the light on in the hall for you.  If you had a few drinks I wanted to be sure you were safe and would not trip on the stairs.  I do this when you’re late, I get up in the morning and you have turned it off and your bedroom door is closed.

The light was still on, the door is open, you’re not home.

I’m telling myself that you’re fine, you probably stayed at Ruby’s and as it was late didn’t want to wake me.  I have three hours until you’re due in work and then you will call.  Why didn’t you text, I could have found it when I woke.  What about email, you know I check them on my phone.

I probably seem over protective but I’m not, I want you to have fun.  It’s just that you have never done this before, you always think of other people, well me anyway.  You are considerate, you think of my feelings.  Your boss tells me every time I see him how well brought up you are, what manners you have.  Well, that is all down to you my lovely, you’re a natural.  That’s why I’m starting to panic, just a little bit.

I know you’re fine really and I’m letting my imagination run away with me.  If you were not, someone would have let me know.  I think of how they can check your wallet, they find out where you live from your bankcards.  What if you lost your wallet, what if you’re unconscious?  It’s okay, I just realised Ruby would be able to tell anyone if you were hurt.  But what if you’re not with her, maybe I just assumed it was her you were with, you might have been alone.

I texted you again half an hour ago, I didn’t phone in case you’re still sleeping.  Hurry up and wake up darling, put my mind at ease.

I know life is full of challenges, but you hope they lessen a bit as you learn form them.  I couldn’t cope if you were hurt, you’re my Achilles Heel darling.  I would go mad without you in my life.  What am I saying you’re probably just hung over, thoughtless, selfish, but I know you’re not.  I think about that some more, you can be selfish when you let me pick up after you, which is good today, and it’s how I want it to be.  I want to think you are just uncaring, no I don’t, I just want to know you are all right.

It is quiet in town today, apart from the gulls screeching over the roofs.  I’m aware my ears are tuned to the street, listening for footsteps in case you pop home to change.

I can’t do anything, I’m sitting here in my dressing gown waiting for you to make the next move.  If I get in the shower you might call, the police might knock on the door, the hospital might call.  Time is trickling by today, hurry up and help the hands of the clock get back to normal.

I’m not really as resilient as I thought, nowhere near it.  I’m a mother who wants to know if her boy is okay.

The Receptionist

lizaaitken

The receptionist hated her job with every atom in her body.  She hated the dreariness of the days, the sadness of the people who used the service and the total disinterest of the people who were supposed to be providing it.  It was a joke that the organization she worked for supposedly provided therapeutic services in the community.  If anyone needed therapy around here, it was her.

She was tied to the horrid job though, and probably for all eternity.  The rent needed to be paid and the credit card bills wouldn’t go away and she really needed those holidays to warm her bones.  If only she had chosen anther direction when she was at school, not hung out around the bike sheds smoking with the boys and stuck her nose in a book instead.

What else could she do she wondered for the fifty-millionth time.  She had made many of those life decision lists that were recommended on the internet, she liked baking cakes, but everyone could bake cakes, she liked to dance (poorly), she liked to cook, she liked animals, what was clear was that she liked nothing that would ever make her any money.  There must surely be something she hadn’t thought of, she just needed to find it.

Travelling to work this morning on the train, with the same blank faces she saw every day she again realised she was dying.  Not dying from a terminal illness or anything, just dying a little bit more everyday in her boring job.  The same old monotony, day in, day out, the rest of her life.  What did her life, as she was leading it have to say for itself, what did it say about her.

She checked her purse to make sure she had the lottery ticket, it was the only way out of here at the moment, that is until her prince comes along if he ever realises she is waiting.

She prayed again to St Jude, saint of hopeless causes to take pity on her.  Then, to be extra sure to St Anthony, the finder of things, to find her a way out of here, hopefully to somewhere warm and St Christopher who might help with that too.

Who else was there up there that could possibly help?  She thought of Arch Angel Michael, he had influence she had heard, she would give him a try, but how, she would need to look that one up.  She opened a browser and typed in his name finding a list of sites dedicated to him immediately.  It appeared all you needed to do was ask him to be by your side, help with negativity and believe he was there.  You could also ask him for a physical sign on earth, so you would know he was there. It was surely worth a go, she would give it a try, what did she have to loose.

The receptionist closed her eyes and followed the instructions carefully.  ‘Dear Arch Angel Michael, could you help me see my way, be with me, protect me and show me a sign that you can hear this’.  Just as she was getting in the flow of the conversation with Michael the door buzzer went off.  She pressed the intercom to enquire who was there.  ‘ Stationary delivery’, she pressed the button to release the door and let the delivery guy in to the building.

A young guy, actually a very nice looking young guy entered the reception area carrying a delivery note.  He was wearing a colbolt blue T-shirt with a company logo of what looked like a sword across the chest.  She directed him to the stationary office and went back to her desk.

A pile of letters needed to be put into envelopes and posted, she had better get on with it before lunch.  She could then head off early to the post office before going to the café in the park.  She looked up as the stationary delivery guy left the building with a wave in her direction.

At the park, she got her sandwich from the café and headed for a bench by the lake.  The sun was shining and it cast a bright glow across the water that seemed to stop just short of the bench.  As she sat, she noticed a single feather, white and fluffy and new.  She picked it up, held it aloft and then gently let it fall to the ground, watching as it span in the summer breeze.

‘Mind if I sit here’? enquired a voice, a nice, soft and gentle voice.  She looked up to see the delivery guy, sandwich in hand standing by her bench.  She smiled and moved along to make room.  She wasn’t so sure she was hungry for the egg mayonnaise sandwich now, maybe it would be best to save it for later where she didn’t have to worry about it falling down her chin.

Heading back to work after lunch, she thought about Mike.  New to town, single and drop dead gorgeous.  He was working at the stationary company as a stopgap to save for the trip around the world he intended to do with his camera.  He was an aspiring photographer and had recently been displayed in a local gallery.   He would be back on Monday with the remainder of the delivery, she must remember to wear her new shoes, and Monday couldn’t come soon enough, maybe this place wasn’t so bad.  She picked the delivery note up from the in tray she had left it earlier, ready now to unpack the boxes.  The piece of paper in her hand read Michaels’ Stationary Supplies and just below showed the delivery of a box of Arch Lever Files.

What was the name of that angel she had been talking to earlier?