askdaizyduque

[askdaizyduque]

It truly is heartbreaking

“Two people who were once very close can without blame or grand betrayal become strangers. Perhaps this is the saddest thing in the world.”

— Warsan Shire

[askdaizyduque]

No Pictures

[2,324] No Pictures

Dying a slow death, along with the myriad of emotions can, to say the least, be quite disgusting. Like right now the rancid odor stuck in Del’s nostrils. Maybe it was emanating from what felt like a slimy cotton ball covering her tongue and slowly starting to edge it’s way out of her mouth.

“Hello. I need help. Hello. Hello. Hello. Fucking hello,” Del repositioned her shrinking body on the hospital bed. She pressed the nurses’ call button over and over again. “Fucking assholes,”. She was seventy two and wondered what one hundred and two felt like. As she wrestled with the bedding her porcelain colored legs moved freely to stretch and with the last bit of strength left in her skinny arms Del managed to actually sit up. She pounded her legs on the mattress, like a toddler having a tantrum on the floor. Next she shook the bed rails until they rattled. “Where the hell is everyone?”

The cancer stricken, failing member of the “hospice club” wore herself out with her antics. She lay there panting. She didn’t know what day it was and she didn’t even care. Good old morphine drip. Perhaps seen as a perk while waiting to kick the bucket.

Hospice. Hellspice. This room was nothing to write home about. More like a glorified hospital room. Big fucking deal. Ugly tan colored walls. A cheap brown leather sofa, missing a few cushions, on one side of the room and a very used desk and chair on the other. Del leaned toward the desk as far as she could without toppling out of bed. There it was. She wondered where they put it. The gratuitous copy of the Bible.

Out of breath from simply rearranging her incomplete body Del gave up and flopped her nearly bald head onto the pillow. Fighting the slippery cotton ball in her mouth it felt even bigger, gagging her, so she figured she’d choke to death. At this point she was ready. She stared at the ceiling and contemplated counting the tiny holes in each section but as her heavy breathing slowed so did her motivation. Del slept while the nurse changed her catheter bag and injected a dose of morphine into her I.V. line.

Eve stood in the doorway. Too frightened to enter into the scene. Tears ran down her cheeks so she backed away and ran to the nearest bathroom. Crying was never allowed. And being Del’s little sister meant a good amount of tears over her lifetime. It was imperative she play her part correctly. Eve was thirteen years younger than Del and learned her fate years earlier. Eve the entertainer of the family. She was the one who made them laugh and hide the truths, although usually she wasn’t really certain of what she was hiding. The bathroom unfortunately, had incredible acoustics which meant she had to be silent. Her jeans jacket worked well as a muffler. Eve’s crying episode looked like shudders, spasms. Exhausted from the redeye flight from LAX to Tampa, Florida and from there the one hour drive to Springvilla. Sleep was calling. Eve remained hidden for several minutes preparing for her entrance. The once slender, beautiful professional model studied the image in the mirror. Green eyes looked back at her. Short brown, graying hair, not too many wrinkles, considering her life experiences, but that bathing suit body was no more. She hated the way she looked. No matter the compliments she still received, deep in her soul she was disappointed how the physical changes came about. Quickly she smeared a bit of gloss on her thin lips, and with a spray of vanilla body mist she was ready.

Del opened her eyes. She scanned the surroundings and knew she was still alive. Aware of soft footsteps heading toward her she didn’t look to see who it was. Eve’s presence was palpable and her perfume gave her away. Little sister Eve. Ah. Eve the princess, the perfect child who could do no wrong. The princess who always showed up at the eleventh hour to help. Del hoped she never saw her sister again. Her existence ruined Del’s perfect life. From the moment she was born the little brat ruined everything. For too many years Del put half -hearted effort at forging a relationship with her. But the whole “sister” thing was not a priority. Eve was a thorn. Eve was gullible. The kicked dog that always returned hoping for a pat on the head. What a simpleton.

Eve made her way to the other side of the bed and sat. She reached her hand out for Del and right then Del turned her head and the two locked eyes.

“I knew you’d come,” Del whispered. Eve placed her hand on Del’s fuzzy head and ran her manicured, bright red, fingernails through the soft patch and kissed her sister’s forehead.

Eve laughed. “You did? How did you know?” She waited for an answer while checking the machines connected to Del. Not many. This was hospice. There’s no resuscitation efforts allowed in hospice. Everyone just sits or stands around.

Some traffic of staff crossing back and forth in the outer hallway was merely never ending preparation for one gone from the bed, another in the bed. The turnover time differed but all manner of productivity inside these walls meant the same. All interactions, discussions masked the wait, waiting for the individual final result in this building.

“This place is pretty nice. You have a beautiful view,” said Eve reaching for Del’s hand. “Sis do you have something in your mouth?”

Del coughed and managed the words, “I think so.”

Eve found some latex gloves, slipped them on and said, “Open your mouth.” A small gasp escaped from Eve.. The sight of a huge glob of white, creamy, chunky material was living in Del’s mouth. Eve found some individual small sponges on sticks and carefully shoveled an immeasurable amount of gunk from Del’s mouth into a bed pan. She moved the pan out of sight and finished up with a sterile gauze around her index finger and scrubbed around her teeth, tongue and lips. “Geez. Sis does that feel better?”

“Of course. What do you think? How could anyone enjoy that shit clogging everything. And while you’re at it get the nurse. I need pain medicine.” A sharp knife like pain caused Del an awkward contortion. Her bed gown opened to reveal the scars of mastectomy. Again Eve held onto her emotions and managed to cover the area of where a breast once lived. “Oh Sis. I’m getting the nurse right now.” Eve walked as fast as possible without running. She found that same bathroom, knocked open a stall door and crouched. She puked violently until nothing was left and dry heaves took over. She laid her head on her arm and cried for a while.

Del’s nurse arrived with another dose of morphine and some green jello. “I see your sister is here. How nice. You must be so glad to see her.”

“I wouldn’t characterize that way.” The morphine took effect and Del drifted off to movie time, as she referred to it. Time where she watched her life and all that she could remember playing like a film in her head. Thoughts were disconnected, Scenes blurred.

All at once she went back to childhood. The rolling hills of Pennsylvania. Crisp autumn air and the greenest of green grass everywhere it could grow.

There was a room Del went inside.There, there in the corner was a bassinet gently swaying. Gurgling and cooing coming from inside. Newborn Eve who stole Del’s coveted place in the family. For thirteen years Del was an only child. The only female grandchild. She liked her life. Pop loved her from here to eternity. Nanny was always making her little trinkets or gifts of love. It was perfect. Then Eve came along.

Del hugged a bed pillow across her chest and slowly made it to the bassinet. She stared down at Eve. “You fucking ruined my life.”

Del wanted an abortion but that was a big no no for Catholics. If only her parents would’ve found a doctor. Instead when she started to show they hid her away at a convent and made a perfect comeback asserting her own mother being Eve’s mother. Del didn’t know what they told people about her four month absence or any other ways her parents pulled it off. Eve who constantly needed attention, feeding, play time and diaper changes. Constant. Constant. And Eve was the first person every relative fawned over when visiting. Del grew invisible. Each day, minute, hour it got worse. The rage and jealousy burned hot inside Del’s veins. There was a way to put things back to normal. No more bull shit. Yes. She had sex but didn’t understand the possibility of pregnancy even when it’s your first time.

Del placed the pillow over Eve’s innocent smiling face, unmoved by any sort of emotion she figured it couldn’t take long. Little Eve kicked and twisted her tiny hands balled into fists. Del pressed a little harder.

She was caught. Too soon. Eve would go on. And Del went to a mental hospital.

By now Del’s movie was long finished and she was truly sleeping. Eve had no clue her sister snored. She smiled, grabbed a blanket , arranged the cushions and slept on the couch that night.

The next afternoon sun shined through the french doors like mighty streaks of inanimate lightning bolts. Del was restless. Eve was on her cell phone texting. A breeze came and went from the oscillating fan on top of the desk and the antiseptic smell filling the air, hinted a lot of cleaning was going on.

Del woke up confused, She thought it was still morning. “Hi sleepy head?” She winced when turning to her side.

Eve went to Del, “Me? You were the one snoring,” The sisters held their positions for minutes. Eve gazed into her sister’s green eyes ignoring the opaque film beginning to form as a dying body breaks down. Eve gazed. Wanting love. That was all. Simple. Free. Love. Del desperate to let out the truth knew she was slipping away forever. It felt as if she was hovering in place. The pain didn’t seem to matter any more.

Eve told Del, “I know over the years we haven’t been close but you have to understand if I hurt you in any way, I’m sorry, Sis. I’m sorry. I love you.”

Del managed somewhat of a smile and said, “I know.”

The response confused Eve and tore her heart open. She fully expected “I love you” in return.

A coughing attack broke the silence. Del gasped for air. Eve took her hand and kissed it.

Del jerked it away. Eve fought back tears but declared to herself she was there to help and knew at death’s door people say and do unexpected things. Sputum gathered at Del’s nostrils and the corners of her lips. Trying to avoid and other bodily fluids Eve timidly laid her head on Del’s chest, the healthy side. Surprisingly Del touched Eve’s head in return.

For a moment Eve relaxed onto her sister’s abdomen, elated for the affection.

“Eve I’m your mother.”

Those words were a mistake, blurted because of confusion. “Sis stop that’s not funny.”

She sat up. Del stared out behind Eve. Nothing was there but Del definitely was in touch with something.

“Sis why would you do that to me? You’re here suffering. Do you want me to suffer too? Is that it?” Tears burned her eyes. She wiped and another showed up. She bit at her fingernails and ran her hands through her hair. “You’re evil. If Mom and Dad were still alive they would be ashamed of you for saying such horrible words.”

Del knocked over her I.V. equipment as she tried to get out of bed. The green jello from the day before made a nice mess. The metal instruments and food tray clanked and bounced on the floor. “It’s true. For once in your life I’m giving you the truth.” Out of breath and bent over in pain Del sat on the bed.

Eve felt as if she lost her arms, legs, head. Hearing was muffled. Vision blurred. She walked in circles between the desk and the bed. Pulling at the skin on her forehead. “Please tell me you’re lying.” The words dwindled into pathetic whimpering as she cried uncontrollably. Del remained silent. “What the hell. No. No. No. Why am I here? Living. You...you. I grew inside of you?” Eve kicked the chair and used her fist to push the Bible to the floor. The fan went next. So many memories and questions. All the whispers. “Is this why there is not one baby picture of me?” By now Eve had paced her way into her sister’s face. Nose to nose she screamed, “I hate you. I hate Mom, oh I mean grandmother, I hate Dad, Aunt Connie, Uncle Rob. All of you liars. Oh my God my nieces are my sisters? Do they know?” She stepped away.

Del winced and shook her head.

Eve picked the Bible from the floor and carried it to Del.

The nurse ran in, “My God what’s happening? Your tray, your… oh dear,”

Eve put her hand up. “I’ll be leaving soon I just need another minute.”

The nurse made a quick exit.

“ Mother dear I brought you some reading material” and Eve cruelly slammed the Bible where the breast used to be.

Del’s face contorted in agony. She wailed. Eve took her purse, gasping and crying, and headed for the door. She looked back over her shoulder to see Del trying to speak. Everyday Eve wishes she had never looked back that day.

After several failed gasps Eve heard Del, “It was Dad.”

[askdaizyduque]

[askdaizyduque]

[askdaizyduque]

Inside Out

It was sometime past midnight that humid Monday in Orlando the one place she vowed never to return. Eve Munro held the final pose. Steady and strong as a marble sculpture. Exactly as choreographed. Precisely on her mark. The International Dinner Experience wasn’t unlike the many theaters she performed in since she was five years old. Wooden floor, bulky forest green curtains, footlights, tree stands in the wings, scrims, spot lights in the balcony, one on either side of an impressively equipped sound and lighting board and the musicians’ loft. Ordinary, the theater watched scores of performers come and go over the years. It held secrets and dreams galore. The place seemed innocuous but soon and unplanned it would become a vehicle to the place of questions with no answers.

If Eve stood there much longer she would know exactly how many seats it held including dimensions. Christ almighty. She waited for the dance captain to speak up so she could relax her position for God’s sake. Her left foot hurt like a bitch and her back was angry from overuse. Not one to project less than iron like tenacity she slowly softened her diaphragm and took a deep breath. For fuck’s sake, she thought, what’s the deal?

Without moving and through her smile she asked, “Am I there? Can I?”

Luanne Brooks, the long time dance captain of the only dinner theatre in town, laughed, “Oh I’m sorry sweetie. Of course. Look at you. Gettin’ it on the first run.” She was a southern talking long legged brunette. Not much to look at but had the goods to sing and dance in the show as well as a daytime shows at a local theme park revue. “I was in a daze just fer a second. Yer really good.” Her genuine smile faded and she looked down and most crucial Eve saw.

“Shit. Seriously I’m not getting hired,” she thought. Eve was exhausted and had to pee like the time she drank four Budweisers in one hour. As she bent to unbuckle her shoe the awkward look on Luanne’s face made Eve feel anxious. The athletic, slender performer plopped and sat on her butt. Certain her voice sounded desperate she controlled the words, “Any notes? How was the section with the leaps?” She needed this gig. The move from Miami was one month ago exactly and so far she only taught some ballet classes plus the evil six o’clock in the morning aerobics classes and two more of those bastards a day five days a week. She freaking hated them putting on the happy you can do it face for the overweight, uncoordinated and sometimes lazy students who ran out of breath after five minutes, but hey money gets tight when the salary gap is widened and there was Dawson, her eight year old daughter, to care for. Eve had to work. She wiped the sweat from her chest onto the pullover wrapped at her waist. She cleansed her lungs and deliberately procrastinated what needed to be done next. Like hundreds of times before she pulled back the foot section of her tights and picked at moist medical tape. Her pinky toe was broken, again, the third time to be exact. Admittedly she was a klutz off stage because, as instructed for many years, she did not look down when walking. Seemed her last toe was always getting cracked against a piece of furniture or what not. Earlier before rehearsal she wrapped pinky and the next toe together for some stability. The tape rubbed the bare skin raw and blisters popped up. Blood on the bandage was no surprise. “Oh shit. Ow ow ow.” she did it quickly dragging some skin along with the tape. Her almond shaped blue eyes

focused on Luanne’s expression as she reached over for her dance bag in the wings.

Luanne looked at Eve and as habit she massaged the back of her neck and said, “It was great. Kurt wasn’t fibbin’ about you. Better than a rodeo horse riding queen’s barrel contest breakin’ a speed record.” She laughed but it sounded fake. “Hey how ‘bout a break? It’s gettin’ late. Want some water? Oh do ya’ have any questions?”

Eve used her bag’s shoulder strap to slide it across the stage closer to her. She felt around until she found the bottle. After a decent gulp she said, “Thanks but I brought my own water.” Damn. Loss of patience yielded sarcasm so she quickly softened her tone. “I do. But right now all I want is to know is if I’m getting cast in the show?”

“Oh golly. Silly me. Of course. Kurt told us how good ya’ are. Yer goin’ on the schedule for this weekend. I hope that’s okay sweetie. And we still have the costume fitting. It’s two shows a night. Seven thirty and nine forty-five.”

There was the neck rubbing again and repetitive knuckle cracking. Eve ignored that and clapped, “Thank you. Thank you.” A wave of relief and gratitude lightened any doubts allowing her body to relax a bit. “I can’t wait to tell Kurt. Yes. Yes. He’s going to be happy. You made my whole day. Maybe you can put in a good word for me where you and Kurt work. You’ve seen I learn choreography like that,” she snapped her fingers and showed her first genuine smile all evening. Eve’s at rest face made her look mean so she took care when meeting potential employers not to come off as a bitch. Either way she was beautiful with a pleasing heart shaped face and good skin which proved an asset in her career. Many friends confessed when they first met Eve they were standoffish but once they took the time to get to know her they found she was funny as hell and quick with comebacks. Even Kurt treaded lightly around Eve when they met seven years earlier.

Kurt Lansing was Eve’s husband. He too was a dancer but lacked the definitive drive for perfection Eve had. They loved their careers and each other. He was Eve’s knight in shining armor when he rescued her from the previous abusive husband. They were carefree show biz gypsies relocating every six months or so, depending on contracts. Eve loved Kurt with her whole being.

As Kurt would say, “We’ve got the perfect family.”

Three peas in a pod doing what they loved and making great friends along the way. Eve and Kurt were sometimes cast as partners. They practiced at home and rehearsed lifts in the pool with Dawson there enjoying the water show.

Eve did not dance only because she liked to. She danced to breath life into her soul. Or maybe visa versa but each time she made an entrance onstage she felt a vital energy surface. Sensual overflow. When partnering she fit with Kurt’s body perfectly and brought a vibrancy to the choreography. Rhythm, movement and two melting into one, was a turn on. Sometimes she felt guilty that she found the secret sensuality of dance because it happened with almost any partner. Once a show closed it’s run though any fantasies disappeared with it.

They projected the perfect ideation of family. Except for that one time. The time she learned about Kurt fucking her girlfriend, a chorus girl in the Freeport show. Tanya and Eve shared a spot in the dressing room, trading stories, applying show make-up and styling their wigs every night. Eve considered Tanya her best friend. Sadly, Tanya’s husband Miguel came along for that run and certainly was affected by their marital treason. Eve still struggled with the reality of the debacle. The worst of it for her besides the thoughts of her husband’s dick inside Tanya’s slut vagina or elsewhere was her naivety. Eve was not not a jealous woman. She genuinely trusted Kurt. Once out in the open though she was obviously the last to learn of the grand love affair. From time to time she’d torture herself with mental rewind of how many times she must’ve have been labeled as the ultimate jack ass. Fool. Court jester, dumb blonde. Tanya the cast and crew, everyone of them betrayed Eve. Maybe not with malice but then negligence. Someone could’ve warned her, left an anonymous note, anything. Eve came to find out those two had been with each other for months.

Confession night it was pitchblack. Eve remembers walking alone during a torrential June downpour with no destination in mind. How many movies showed similar cliche scenes? No matter. She never bought into the boo hoos or fear the characters were meant to portray. Too melodramatic. What was the purpose? She found out that night for herself at least. The affair made her feel dirty, used, trashy and stupid. At one point she cried so much there was no difference of tears and rain. Running didn’t make a difference. Her hopes the rain could wash away the truth and take with it the immoral filth she believed infected her. It felt like she had a contagion and no one would get close to her again. Eve stopped and raised her face to the sky mouth wide open. She kept on her journey to nowhere, staggering, stumbling on the uneven pavement. Then came the devil of insecurity. Which she, in a way, welcomed. It was better than the burning wound of emotional betrayal. What did she or didn’t she do to cause this? Silent promises bounced around inside her head. Vows she would fix it. She would fix herself and become the dream wife. Her mental list included cooking more often. No limitations on sex or anything Kurt desired in the bedroom. It was her goal to please Kurt at any cost. A new look. Makeup and hair styled on her one day off.

Sad. A lone figure in the dark. Soggy sagging sweatpants and a tank top heavy from the drenching hung from her frame, barefoot. She postured like a pathetic beaten dog. Eve pulled at her hair over and over. Somehow it felt good. At least it was tangible. Better than invisible emotional torture. What? No. The burning pain on her feet made her look them over and sure enough they were sliced in several places. A fallen tree filled in for a chair and she rested on it’s dried, rough bark, relieved the dramatics were easing. By now the rain was trickling and she had no more tears. Not even left- overs to bring out if necessary. The fog of irrational thoughts cleared as Eve played back some more tropical island happenings. Bad idea.

A good portion of the show’s cast lived in a cluster of rental homes on stilts next to a private lagoon. Eve and Kurt were in House 3. Directly across from them lived Tanya and Miguel. A large swimming pool sat smack in the middle of the circle of houses. There were numerous barbecues, parties and bonfire get togethers. Fun.

Infidelity is not stagnant therefore it’s roving energy finds unintended victims and witnesses. The truth is, infidelity doesn’t have to happen. Simple. Finish one project before taking on a new one. Sure there will be sadness. But sadness vs lies and betrayal, Eve would choose any day.

That was over with though. She told Kurt that was his one chance to be a piece of shit and if he ever did it again she was gone. She quickly dismissed the cheating and put it aside. Eve decided to just enjoy this good news.

The two dancers headed to the stairs. Luanne turned off the stage work lights. Immediate change of surroundings. Eve spent her life backstage yet was terrified of dark empty theaters. She glanced up at a spot light and with it’s canvas cover draped over, it resembled a ghostly figure from any one of the scary movies Eve loved. She swiveled to change the view and scared herself more with the myriad of shadows and set pieces lurking. Staring back she picked up her pace still wearing only one shoe.

Luanne led the way and not fast enough for Eve’s bladder. Midway up she stopped, turned and looked into Eve’s eyes. She let her dark brown hair down and shook her head. “You seem like a such... a nice such a nice person. Lordy we don’t know each other. But you deserve to hear the truth.” She struggled to form a sentence, “You, he oh golly damn. Kurt and Gwen are not only co-workers and they’re not friends. They’re havin’ an affair.”

Eve nearly fell backward down the stairs when Luanne hugged her close for an uncomfortable length of time. Eve felt paralyzed and empty. What should she say? Thank you? Are you sure? Does Gwen’s husband know? How about, can you please help me get this knife out of my heart, find a bucket for me to puke in, become steady legs instead of my shaking ones, and last can you glue my life back together and we’ll just leave the last part out?

Luanne’s face paled and a vertical worry line formed as her eyebrows grew taught. “Honey I gotta skedaddle. I’ll call ya’ with the schedule. Good job tonight. Drive safely.” She couldn’t get out the stage door fast enough.

Eve , twenty-seven years old a mother, a wife, an accomplished dancer, actor, model so many fucking things but what fucking good was she? The dance bag dropped with a thud. Eve sat and took off her other shoe dropped it as if it was too heavy and cradled herself. She put her head on her knees and slowly took her bandana from her short blonde hair. Several minutes passed only her breathing interrupted the silence.Without a sign of intention Eve ran to the stage hit the light switch, turned on the music and danced. Turning, kicking, swaying, writhing, slithering, jumping. Eve kept dancing. Her lungs begged for mercy but she didn’t offer any. When the music went silent her movements became peculiar for a classically trained ballerina. No coordination or technique as if against her will, controlled by an invisible force. Not dance. It was more like a desperate search. Up stage, down stage from one side to the other. Much like aged films of asylum patients searching halls for their minds. She finished front and dead center of the stage’s apron. Her lungs on fire for all she knew. The agony and anguish came from the inside out of Eve’s body.

Eve sensed a misalignment in the marriage lately. Probably stress from a new home and a new job. Kurt mentioned Gwen’s name at least three times last week. Pink flag, but it furled in the back of Eve’s mind. He insisted she and Gwen should become friends and p

Eve would really like her a lot. Red flag. Eve flat out dismissed common sense for fairy tales and ignored her intuition. Two nights ago she and Kurt went to a party where Eve talked with other singers and dancers, had a drink and mingled. She started to enjoy herself but it didn’t last long. She turned the corner into the kitchen where perfect timing made Eve watched Gwen bend over to open the oven door and Kurt smacked her on the ass, Their immature giggles proved that was not the first time they’d played together. Eve’s stomach did a somersault and the horrific feeling of humiliation, abandonment and betrayal endured from his last affair awoke from slumber. Eve found it impossible to rationalize the pain of love. Her thoughts were incoherent. Eve Munro had lived some life already, but her naive ego never expected adultery. It was more likely she’d grow a new pinky toe than be cheated on. Not in her plans. Foolish it never came to mind.

She stood center stage. The stage. The stage was a sacred place for Eve where she felt safe and wanted. Dancing for an audience was her high. She had dabbled with drugs but wasn’t for her. Nothing brought ecstasy to her core like dancing. She fell to her knees. The sounds she made were like hiccups but lower in her belly. Soon she was crying then dry heaving. Thoughts of Dawson filled her mind and she feared her reaction was a deadly seizure. She rolled onto her back, pounded her fists on the floor. She wanted out of her skin. Shed it all. Start new. Her grief backed off and gave in to sleep. When she woke the epiphany that true life held the real demons was clear. For the first time Eve welcomed the darkness and walked amongst the shadows with determination.

Eve understood what was ahead of her. She turned the lights off. Now nothing scared or hurt her as deeply as the ugly lies tossed her way from Kurt. Eve’s empty darkened heart erased the fears of dark theaters that ran wild in her imagination. Eve loved the stage more than yesterday because the stage loved her. The stage never betrayed but waited patiently for her next entrance.

[askdaizyduque]

I can truly relate to this.

“She doesn’t want to hear that she is flawless. She wants to hear that she is loved regardless of her flaws.”

— charmingwinds

[askdaizyduque]

No Pictures

[2,324] No Pictures

Dying a slow death, along with the myriad of emotions can, to say the least, be quite disgusting. Like right now the rancid odor stuck in Del’s nostrils. Maybe it was emanating from what felt like a slimy cotton ball covering her tongue and slowly starting to edge it’s way out of her mouth.

“Hello. I need help. Hello. Hello. Hello. Fucking hello,” Del repositioned her shrinking body on the hospital bed. She pressed the nurses’ call button over and over again. “Fucking assholes,”. She was seventy two and wondered what one hundred and two felt like. As she wrestled with the bedding her porcelain colored legs moved freely to stretch and with the last bit of strength left in her skinny arms Del managed to actually sit up. She pounded her legs on the mattress, like a toddler having a tantrum on the floor. Next she shook the bed rails until they rattled. “Where the hell is everyone?”

The cancer stricken, failing member of the “hospice club” wore herself out with her antics. She lay there panting. She didn’t know what day it was and she didn’t even care. Good old morphine drip. Perhaps seen as a perk while waiting to kick the bucket.

Hospice. Hellspice. This room was nothing to write home about. More like a glorified hospital room. Big fucking deal. Ugly tan colored walls. A cheap brown leather sofa, missing a few cushions, on one side of the room and a very used desk and chair on the other. Del leaned toward the desk as far as she could without toppling out of bed. There it was. She wondered where they put it. The gratuitous copy of the Bible.

Out of breath from simply rearranging her incomplete body Del gave up and flopped her nearly bald head onto the pillow. Fighting the slippery cotton ball in her mouth it felt even bigger, gagging her, so she figured she’d choke to death. At this point she was ready. She stared at the ceiling and contemplated counting the tiny holes in each section but as her heavy breathing slowed so did her motivation. Del slept while the nurse changed her catheter bag and injected a dose of morphine into her I.V. line.

Eve stood in the doorway. Too frightened to enter into the scene. Tears ran down her cheeks so she backed away and ran to the nearest bathroom. Crying was never allowed. And being Del’s little sister meant a good amount of tears over her lifetime. It was imperative she play her part correctly. Eve was thirteen years younger than Del and learned her fate years earlier. Eve the entertainer of the family. She was the one who made them laugh and hide the truths, although usually she wasn’t really certain of what she was hiding. The bathroom unfortunately, had incredible acoustics which meant she had to be silent. Her jeans jacket worked well as a muffler. Eve’s crying episode looked like shudders, spasms. Exhausted from the redeye flight from LAX to Tampa, Florida and from there the one hour drive to Springvilla. Sleep was calling. Eve remained hidden for several minutes preparing for her entrance. The once slender, beautiful professional model studied the image in the mirror. Green eyes looked back at her. Short brown, graying hair, not too many wrinkles, considering her life experiences, but that bathing suit body was no more. She hated the way she looked. No matter the compliments she still received, deep in her soul she was disappointed how the physical changes came about. Quickly she smeared a bit of gloss on her thin lips, and with a spray of vanilla body mist she was ready.

Del opened her eyes. She scanned the surroundings and knew she was still alive. Aware of soft footsteps heading toward her she didn’t look to see who it was. Eve’s presence was palpable and her perfume gave her away. Little sister Eve. Ah. Eve the princess, the perfect child who could do no wrong. The princess who always showed up at the eleventh hour to help. Del hoped she never saw her sister again. Her existence ruined Del’s perfect life. From the moment she was born the little brat ruined everything. For too many years Del put half -hearted effort at forging a relationship with her. But the whole “sister” thing was not a priority. Eve was a thorn. Eve was gullible. The kicked dog that always returned hoping for a pat on the head. What a simpleton.

Eve made her way to the other side of the bed and sat. She reached her hand out for Del and right then Del turned her head and the two locked eyes.

“I knew you’d come,” Del whispered. Eve placed her hand on Del’s fuzzy head and ran her manicured, bright red, fingernails through the soft patch and kissed her sister’s forehead.

Eve laughed. “You did? How did you know?” She waited for an answer while checking the machines connected to Del. Not many. This was hospice. There’s no resuscitation efforts allowed in hospice. Everyone just sits or stands around.

Some traffic of staff crossing back and forth in the outer hallway was merely never ending preparation for one gone from the bed, another in the bed. The turnover time differed but all manner of productivity inside these walls meant the same. All interactions, discussions masked the wait, waiting for the individual final result in this building.

“This place is pretty nice. You have a beautiful view,” said Eve reaching for Del’s hand. “Sis do you have something in your mouth?”

Del coughed and managed the words, “I think so.”

Eve found some latex gloves, slipped them on and said, “Open your mouth.” A small gasp escaped from Eve.. The sight of a huge glob of white, creamy, chunky material was living in Del’s mouth. Eve found some individual small sponges on sticks and carefully shoveled an immeasurable amount of gunk from Del’s mouth into a bed pan. She moved the pan out of sight and finished up with a sterile gauze around her index finger and scrubbed around her teeth, tongue and lips. “Geez. Sis does that feel better?”

“Of course. What do you think? How could anyone enjoy that shit clogging everything. And while you’re at it get the nurse. I need pain medicine.” A sharp knife like pain caused Del an awkward contortion. Her bed gown opened to reveal the scars of mastectomy. Again Eve held onto her emotions and managed to cover the area of where a breast once lived. “Oh Sis. I’m getting the nurse right now.” Eve walked as fast as possible without running. She found that same bathroom, knocked open a stall door and crouched. She puked violently until nothing was left and dry heaves took over. She laid her head on her arm and cried for a while.

Del’s nurse arrived with another dose of morphine and some green jello. “I see your sister is here. How nice. You must be so glad to see her.”

“I wouldn’t characterize that way.” The morphine took effect and Del drifted off to movie time, as she referred to it. Time where she watched her life and all that she could remember playing like a film in her head. Thoughts were disconnected, Scenes blurred.

All at once she went back to childhood. The rolling hills of Pennsylvania. Crisp autumn air and the greenest of green grass everywhere it could grow.

There was a room Del went inside.There, there in the corner was a bassinet gently swaying. Gurgling and cooing coming from inside. Newborn Eve who stole Del’s coveted place in the family. For thirteen years Del was an only child. The only female grandchild. She liked her life. Pop loved her from here to eternity. Nanny was always making her little trinkets or gifts of love. It was perfect. Then Eve came along.

Del hugged a bed pillow across her chest and slowly made it to the bassinet. She stared down at Eve. “You fucking ruined my life.”

Del wanted an abortion but that was a big no no for Catholics. If only her parents would’ve found a doctor. Instead when she started to show they hid her away at a convent and made a perfect comeback asserting her own mother being Eve’s mother. Del didn’t know what they told people about her four month absence or any other ways her parents pulled it off. Eve who constantly needed attention, feeding, play time and diaper changes. Constant. Constant. And Eve was the first person every relative fawned over when visiting. Del grew invisible. Each day, minute, hour it got worse. The rage and jealousy burned hot inside Del’s veins. There was a way to put things back to normal. No more bull shit. Yes. She had sex but didn’t understand the possibility of pregnancy even when it’s your first time.

Del placed the pillow over Eve’s innocent smiling face, unmoved by any sort of emotion she figured it couldn’t take long. Little Eve kicked and twisted her tiny hands balled into fists. Del pressed a little harder.

She was caught. Too soon. Eve would go on. And Del went to a mental hospital.

By now Del’s movie was long finished and she was truly sleeping. Eve had no clue her sister snored. She smiled, grabbed a blanket , arranged the cushions and slept on the couch that night.

The next afternoon sun shined through the french doors like mighty streaks of inanimate lightning bolts. Del was restless. Eve was on her cell phone texting. A breeze came and went from the oscillating fan on top of the desk and the antiseptic smell filling the air, hinted a lot of cleaning was going on.

Del woke up confused, She thought it was still morning. “Hi sleepy head?” She winced when turning to her side.

Eve went to Del, “Me? You were the one snoring,” The sisters held their positions for minutes. Eve gazed into her sister’s green eyes ignoring the opaque film beginning to form as a dying body breaks down. Eve gazed. Wanting love. That was all. Simple. Free. Love. Del desperate to let out the truth knew she was slipping away forever. It felt as if she was hovering in place. The pain didn’t seem to matter any more.

Eve told Del, “I know over the years we haven’t been close but you have to understand if I hurt you in any way, I’m sorry, Sis. I’m sorry. I love you.”

Del managed somewhat of a smile and said, “I know.”

The response confused Eve and tore her heart open. She fully expected “I love you” in return.

A coughing attack broke the silence. Del gasped for air. Eve took her hand and kissed it.

Del jerked it away. Eve fought back tears but declared to herself she was there to help and knew at death’s door people say and do unexpected things. Sputum gathered at Del’s nostrils and the corners of her lips. Trying to avoid and other bodily fluids Eve timidly laid her head on Del’s chest, the healthy side. Surprisingly Del touched Eve’s head in return.

For a moment Eve relaxed onto her sister’s abdomen, elated for the affection.

“Eve I’m your mother.”

Those words were a mistake, blurted because of confusion. “Sis stop that’s not funny.”

She sat up. Del stared out behind Eve. Nothing was there but Del definitely was in touch with something.

“Sis why would you do that to me? You’re here suffering. Do you want me to suffer too? Is that it?” Tears burned her eyes. She wiped and another showed up. She bit at her fingernails and ran her hands through her hair. “You’re evil. If Mom and Dad were still alive they would be ashamed of you for saying such horrible words.”

Del knocked over her I.V. equipment as she tried to get out of bed. The green jello from the day before made a nice mess. The metal instruments and food tray clanked and bounced on the floor. “It’s true. For once in your life I’m giving you the truth.” Out of breath and bent over in pain Del sat on the bed.

Eve felt as if she lost her arms, legs, head. Hearing was muffled. Vision blurred. She walked in circles between the desk and the bed. Pulling at the skin on her forehead. “Please tell me you’re lying.” The words dwindled into pathetic whimpering as she cried uncontrollably. Del remained silent. “What the hell. No. No. No. Why am I here? Living. You...you. I grew inside of you?” Eve kicked the chair and used her fist to push the Bible to the floor. The fan went next. So many memories and questions. All the whispers. “Is this why there is not one baby picture of me?” By now Eve had paced her way into her sister’s face. Nose to nose she screamed, “I hate you. I hate Mom, oh I mean grandmother, I hate Dad, Aunt Connie, Uncle Rob. All of you liars. Oh my God my nieces are my sisters? Do they know?” She stepped away.

Del winced and shook her head.

Eve picked the Bible from the floor and carried it to Del.

The nurse ran in, “My God what’s happening? Your tray, your… oh dear,”

Eve put her hand up. “I’ll be leaving soon I just need another minute.”

The nurse made a quick exit.

“ Mother dear I brought you some reading material” and Eve cruelly slammed the Bible where the breast used to be.

Del’s face contorted in agony. She wailed. Eve took her purse, gasping and crying, and headed for the door. She looked back over her shoulder to see Del trying to speak. Everyday Eve wishes she had never looked back that day.

After several failed gasps Eve heard Del, “It was Dad.”

[askdaizyduque]

This is serenity.

_take_taro_ on Instagram  

[askdaizyduque]

Clouds billowing over head playing hide and seek with streaks of sunlight peeking out. And repeat. It was typical weather on this Florida afternoon. Something atypical would soon turn my world into a wobbling, unstable and frightening life.

Theba. I’ll remember that name because of its uniqueness. Theba was the babysitter that helped my sister with her two young daughters. Mom was picking up Carly and Colette, my nieces that day. Their mother, Deloris worked at a local buffet restaurant serving customers’ requests one after the other. I wanted to work there too so I could wear the fresh looking, meticulously, ironed pale peach colored uniform. Most of all, I hoped for was the starched cleverly folded handkerchief pinned on one shoulder of the dress. It was the fashion back then. Del, which Sis preferred, was beautiful. The most beautiful woman ever. She could fix the best bee-hive hairstyle and she smelled of hairspray and cigarettes.

“I’ll be right back,” said Mom as she closed the door of our green station wagon.

I watched her wiggling her rear end as she walked to the door. She was petite and proud of it. When ever we’d be out running errands she seemed to search for obese people. “Oh Daizy. Look, look, look what’s coming this way. Oh Lord don’t ever let yourself get like that. You’ll never get a husband.”

I learned that large or fat people were disgusting and lazy. Horrible views to teach a child that thankfully I did not agree with.

When she knocked on the door no one answered. Then she lifted part of the jalousie window and a folded slip of paper fell out. About that time Theba opened the door. I tried to hear what was being said as I watched a lot of head shaking, shoulder shrugging happening while opening the note. They were silent as they read it.

Skipping and running from the side yard gate came Carly and Colette. They saw their grandmother, she slid the paper into the pocket of her blue shorts, and their faces seemed to light up and they started walking quickly.

I looked at Theba and Mom and sensed bad things taking place. Theba seemed confused and Mom, well Mom looked worried. The blonde haired granddaughters plowed into Nanny , their name for Mom, and she started to topple but Theba gave a helping hand. Mom hugged my nieces and sent them down the driveway.

They skipped to the car and were grinning as wide as their small faces could manage. All of the effervescence they brought could not mask my feelings of dread. Something very ugly and sad.I knew it. I inhaled and even the air felt wrong. My stomach twisted deep inside like it always did when I was scared. The girls climbed into the back seat and the expected banter the sisters engaged in something about a coloring book, filled the silence and muted the sound of my pounding heart. I focused on Mom and Theba.

A usual typical day. . Not any longer. I was well aware of the tiny bumps covering my arms. Right then and there the disturbing life changes headed my way started years of emotional wounds, mistrust and a kind of vacancy in my soul. This path of misfortune began of all places, in the babysitter’s driveway.

That day everything shifted, turned upside down changed and no one was exempt in the family. A curt, message from my sister scrawled on the paper. I’m leaving. I won’t be back. D

Coward. She was a coward. This I realized many years later. Right then she was no where. Gone? That day she was still my big sister that I loved with every inch of my being, and I might never see her again.

My family thrived on secrets which meant we never once talked about it. I used my talents of eavesdropping and reading lips and eventually learned the truth. Sis had in fact run away. Her daughters, abandoned. Parents, devastated. Me? Lost? Angry? Sad. There was one last memory about that day and it’s still with me, the stinging reality; my thirteen years older sister left. For weeks I’d cry myself to sleep exhausted from searching for a clue, a hint, anything that would explain why or where she planned to go. No matter how much I loved Sis we just weren’t close. I longed for a fairytale sister relationship like I saw on television shows. Sisters sharing make up, pillow fights, but I had never been in her room. I’d sit on the terrazzo floor in the hallway, most days I guess. She played 45s on her portable record player. I pretended we were singing to each other using hairbrushes as microphones. That never happened but I memorized every word of Aretha Franklin’s “Chain of Fools” and continued waiting, in case she just might change her mind and let me come in. I was lonely but never lost hope.

[askdaizyduque]

When will I learn? Stop trying to please everyone!

[askdaizyduque]

[askdaizyduque]

Me back there now. If only

[askdaizyduque]

This made me smile

I’d watch a show with them as the main characters

[askdaizyduque]

“Missing someone who doesn’t care is the worst.”

—

[askdaizyduque]

I made a thing, it’s not finished, but here’s the thing.

[askdaizyduque]

“One of the simplest ways to stay happy, is to let go of the things that makes you sad.”

—

[askdaizyduque]

Why can’t we all get along like these two

The most interesting friendship your likely to come across… have you ever seen anything like it before? 😍 🐶 🦉 Photo…