All she'd been able to do for the last week was eat, sleep, and stare out the window. Ruth's father hadn't shot either of them but he had hit the bench behind them.
She started down the stairs. An ambulance sounded in the distance slowly becoming louder. As she reached the 4th floor she heard a dog barking ferociously so she spread up down the stairs searching for the source. She entered into he second floor and found many others crowded around room 204.
"It's Rory," one woman said.
"Who is that?" asked another.
"I don't know, but she loves her dog. That's all I can say," responded the woman with an aire of arrogance.
Annabelle stared at the woman who quickly noticed and stared right back.
"Really? That's all? This woman in there is hurt and all you can say is that her whole being comes down to her love of a dog?" Annabelle said in astonishment.
"Yeah! She is a loser. I mean who cares if someone like that dies? She ain't doing anything for society anyways."
Annabelle didn't have words to respond with.
After about 30 seconds, Annabelle gave the women a hug and asked if she wanted to go out for coffee.
This woman needed some love. Real love.
Later, Annabelle found out that Rory got hit by a car and died. Time to love the ones in her surroundings because the time might slip away fast.
Tuesday, April 18, 2017
Annabell sat on the park bench in awe. The storm had made the trees lack their usual grand splendor and made the buildings sway with fragility. The world is so much more powerful than the people living in it.
Suddenly, a black mustang car revved up the street and stopped abruptly in front of her.
“GET OUT, NOW!” came a muffled yell from inside of the car. The owner of the voice displayed a red faced with split flying in all directions.
The passenger door flew open and out came a young girl, about 16. She turned around and slammed the door in response to the following harsh words.
“How does it feel now to have to fend for yourself without the help of your daddy? Huh? Huh? You can rot here with this town!” exclaimed the spitting face again, and off the car left leaving behind a girl with a t-shirt of a rose lifecycle.
The girl’s lifted head held a straight but calm face, lacking the emotion expected. She walked down the sidewalk toward the Rainbow River, ignoring the surrounding stares and silence.
Suddenly, Annabell filled with anger that quickly slid into a pain. Mirror. Tears began sliding down her face. She’d forgotten she still had it in her to cry from the pains in her heart.
Everyone continued to stare, as if Michelangelo, himself, were sculpting her as she walked down the sidewalk, but her disregard for this seemed to leave the bystanders embarrassed instead of herself.
About an hour later, Annabell had found out that the girl, whose name was Ruth, had been picked up by her father from school. She greeted her father and asked about his day. He flipped out, yelling at her. She hadn’t understood it all, but what she did catch that her dad had lost his job, his third in three months after losing his wife, Ruth’s mother, and his two sons, Ruth’s brothers, in a mall shooting.
Annabell and Ruth landed on the same bench Annabell sat on that morning. A peaceful silence followed Ruth’s reveal, tears streaming down both their faces now.
But the moment didn’t last for long. Up came a black mustang and a yelling father telling his daughter to come back.
Ruth’s hesitation prompted her father to pull out a handgun, switching its end between Annabell and Ruth.
Wednesday, March 8, 2017
The ground under Annabelle’s running feet shook as the storm surrounding her raged. She was running out of steam from her 10 mile run, so she popped another Gatorade energy jelly into her mouth.
CRASH! This magnitude of the lightning flash startled her to her hands and knees. As she lifted her head, the lightning continued to light up the forest around her and the beauty of the world smacked her in the face with such force she fell onto her back.
All she could do was stare. The rain splashed onto her, but then ran off into the dirt.
All she could think of was the quote her mom had always told her as a young child; “Don’t ever let what you’ve already done define what you do today and tomorrow.”
It was as if rain dripping from her body was taking away her anger, her grief, her frustrations, her hurt. The water was deteriorating the cardboard wall she had set up around herself, freeing her to stretch her arms.
Thursday, January 19, 2017
Annabell walked her daily assigned, slow, walk. After 8 weeks of barely making herself broth, tea and laying down, she really enjoyed her daily walks, no matter how ugly the city was. Jamie had bought her groceries and kindly helped her out whenever she needed it. Jamie wasn’t ever a mean person, but he had just been so patient with her despite her rude, entitled self. Yeah, she knew she was like that, but never really felt like changing...well...she hadn’t ever seriously considered.
On her right, Connie's Coffee took her by surprise with it’s beautiful arrangement of flowers. She spotted a Anthurium flower, her mother’s favorite because the petals were shaped like a heart. The flower fit her mother. Why am I so different from mother? Maybe she should try something new. After all, America is supposedly the “new world.”
Hate or love? It should be obvious. Time to call father.