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Non-Fiction
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| Shattered | |
| By tat_2man | ||||||||||||
| 04 July 2006 | ||||||||||||
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Here is alittle peice of my life. I first met her when I moved to the city. Two years older and a lot smarter than me, she was like a dream. I met her and her mother at the apartment Laundromat. Her mother always said we should have been together. In fact she told me that the day of Michelle’s funeral. But I am getting ahead of myself. After my parents divorced, my mother, my sister, and I moved to Nebraska. From Virginia Beach to the Ranch we went. I loved it out there. The trees, the animals, and the freedom. Slowly I was converted to a “cowboy” We only went to town once a week usually and I went to a country school with 6 other kids. It was heaven. If you never have lived in a small town in the US let me describe some of it for you. Everyone knows everybody else’s business. And if they do not know it they will make it up as they go. I was a no name in that western Nebraska town. I still am I guess. I was constantly bullied and beaten. So I became a “rebel” of sorts. Long hair and loud music the only way to go. My family decided it would be good for me to move back to Virginia with my dad. My father is pure Navy, gung ho and one hell of a sailor. He had no idea how to be a father and I had no idea how to be a son so we were a perfect match. We moved into some apartments that were close to the shipyard where his ship was in dry-dock. It being summer I explored the apartments a little. Picture this a tall lanky cowboy with long hair and an attitude. That was me to a T. I had to do the laundry in the apartment Laundromat the apartment was not large enough for us and a washer and dryer. I had no idea how to wash clothes but like everything else in life I was going to do it even if it killed me. Evidently a girl and who I presumed was her mother thought I was hilarious. I threw the clothes in one washer I really jammed it full. And I believe I used about half a bottle of detergent on one load. That’s how I met Michelle and her mother. Michelle was about 4 inches shorter than me with blonde hair and blue eyes. One of the most beautiful people I had ever met. And when I say beautiful that’s on the inside and the outside. To shorten this sorry little story I was in love but she was not. Michelle had a boyfriend who I did not like the instant I met. Not only did this slime have what I thought of as my girl he also had the innate ability to piss me off with a look. He did not care for anyone but himself as you could tell by his hair and designer jeans. Over the time Michelle and I grew to be close friends. We talked of hopes and dreams and the past. She was my world; I awoke thinking of her and slept dreaming of her. The time seemed to have flown by. I cannot say exactly how much time we spent together. Months seemed to be days. My dad enrolled me in a school in the next county so I was going to have to move soon. I dreaded to tell Michelle the news but I knew that soon it would be time. I tried every time we were near but I was a coward. I finally called her. I remember it was late I was sitting on the patio looking at the stars as the phone rang. When she picked up my throat froze up. Michelle had been crying I could tell by her voice. It all came out in a jumble then. How I had to move but I did not want to and I was afraid of losing her friendship. She tried consoling me the big blubbery baby; I soon started feeling better the longer we talked. She then said that I really was her best friend and she loved me as she softly cried. Me being confused and dumb was trying to figure out what was going on. Then it was her confession time. She told me that she was pregnant and the slime had been told but claimed it wasn’t his. She cried for a few minutes as I clumsily tried to cheer her up. I told her I would be the father and we would be a family. She laughed even though I was half serious. We talked of plans and hopes and dreams. I moved a few weeks later and she cried as I left of course I did also. Life was different in another small town but she was always in my thoughts. I went to see her as often as I could. I watched her belly grow and her glow and glow. The slime still wanted nothing to do with her. I had actually run into him at the store and we got into it over Michelle and the baby. He won but I marked him with the hood of his car. School was taking up a lot of my time but still my thoughts were of her. Her time was close and I worried for her and the baby girl she had inside of her. Angela Michelle was born at 1:30 am on a Tuesday. By the time I got to the hospital it was too late. Michelle had died of “complications” an hour after birth. I was shattered. At the funeral I stood with her mother holding Angela. The slime was there playing the grieving lover. I can tell she is near by a light touch to my neck and her smell. I still see her in my dreams and in the circles. I did not write this for sympathy but more for empathy. Now you can see why most of my writing is pretty twisted.
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