Fictional story synopsis. Meet Fable, the character who is about to unravel the roots of her feelings of not belonging… and an entire world of the others who don’t belong either. Who is fable? Why is she here?
I thought about taking my cape off today and surrender to those who I wasn’t able to save. The children I didn’t see suffer, the signs I missed being too busy, occupied by my own mind.
There is so much we miss from not being present. The future holds our attention captive and the moment transforms into past tense in an instant and what was unseen is lost forever. Gone!
Or perhaps it’s stored somewhere deep in our subconscious. Maybe tonight it will reoccur symbolically in a dream and the chance to see what we missed will present itself as an opportunity again.
But most of us don’t pay attention to our dreams, so what’s the use? We wake up and forget about the knowledge bestowed in our dreams because as soon as the alarm goes off, we awake into zombie mode.
We are plugged back into the matrix, operating on a program that isn’t our own. And what was our own, was our dreams and all those stolen moments when we forgot to be present. Living our lives as drones. As soon as we awake we go back to sleep again.
Sleep walking to rush to get dressed and go to work. Sleep walking running errands, making love, partying, pretending to appear happy to others. Aren’t we all living to appear happy, and not really be happy?
I know I am. The last time Miss Michelle saw real tears streaming down my face, she told me, “Girl, you don’t get to show no emotions round here, you just be grateful you have a roof over your head and smile.”
My tears were warm, like hot drops of water streaming down my cold cheeks. My pain was absurd to her. Her disdain for me deepened my sense of not belonging. Feeling unloved must be an inescapable prison. But recently I’ve found a way out. Now I would never let Miss Michelle know about my escape. I learned if I don’t tell her everything, she can’t take everything.
I had a secret friend. Okay, not so secret to some of my peers. But Michelle was unaware I even had friends at all. I wanted to keep it that way. Janie lived 3 trailers down from me, on the side of the dirt road with all the trees. When Miss Michelle was busy hanging up washed clothes on the laundry line in the backyard our watching her daily programs on TV, I’d sneak out the back door to meet Janie.
Janie’s mom was never home. We were free. Had the whole trailer to ourselves. Janie and I played dolls often. Not with regular store bought dolls. We didn’t have any. We cut out the people in her mom’s JC Penny’s and Sears catalogs. I’d always choose the girl I wanted to be. The girl who smiled and wore cool, fashionable clothes. The girl in the catalog who really looked happy.
I’d choose parents for her that were also smiling. Parents who looked like her. Similar skin colors and hair texture. I wanted everyone to look alike so no one felt like the odd ball. My family was like the story, “Duck, Duck, Grey Duck.”
I was the grey duck. I made sure my paper dolls didn’t have a grey duck. I imagined them all very happy together as a family. But sometimes Janie would interject and mess up my fairy tale. She would leave her paper doll kids at home and the kid would run to my paper doll families house screaming while they were trying to get a good nights sleep.
“Help me! Help me!,” Her paper doll would scream frantically. It was always the child of the paper doll family crying and scared from being alone. My paper doll mother would welcome her in our home and console her until she went to sleep.
It was through our dolls, we tried to exercise the demons that hunt us in real life. The hidden horrors of life in Saint Wards Trailer Park.
By Janell Hihi copyright@2017