Why should a grown woman and a wife plus a mother be telling sharing these stories with a kid she barely knows?
I often asked myself this later on. But it was a huge thing being sat as she sewed being told her loves and life and all the stormy things which a woman has.
Zeks the first was a woman who had lost it. Her lack of fortitude was as plain. She had no fortune spent her time expanding on her bad luck and did not get along with anyone except in hospitals because in hospitals they looked after her.
But at home, she said it was her all the time doing this and that. Running like a headless chicken being in there here and everywhere.
"Malicious lies." said dad, "she is never been here and there the dust is still where I left it."
Dad was an amazingly vain man he liked his shirts ironed or starched and did the best deals on that. He wept if it got soaked or colored with a pink stain. Mother did it on purpose I saw her do it. But she spat at me and said shut it.
Mother stamps her feet and leaves me to deal with the kids and everything she has left the house and we wonder when she will return.
Mother and I behaved in reverse sometimes she did not feel old she said so she was young and should be treated as a young woman.
I did not know what that meant please she just glared at me. Mother saying she was a young woman meant I was younger than her which made me very youthful. I asked her she replied no you are old.
But that is going further back in time back into the sixties and that's not going to work we must work linear because that is what stories are and where and this is, after all, a story.
It is only in films when we have the flashback because we know it is a flashback because something on the screen is different like a light and someone else is a youthful person instead of the one before. But reading one cannot see we must sense it but we cannot see the difficulties as we have only the image of someone else who is speaking.
I am a firm believer in facts.
Who I'm I? I live within the walls of this house like a ghost because not allowed to get out. Like genii in a bottle and somehow lost in the chaos of life. Because too immature and damaged to be seen. Because not as sexy not active do not perform is shy.
I am damaged not morally but here and there damn I cannot explain the facts about being damaged.
One woman's poisonous vibes have got me into such an ordeal it is not right or nice. When she has everything when the rest of us have nothing when her ridiculous stance had made me the prisoner.
No future?
Walled in.
When she was the one who said I was happiest at home. Well, here I am still at home after all these years. Honey I am coming to get you when I die you will be haunted like no other. So I am coming for you.
Almost near death, he does not fear anything at all. No need I will not touch him he has to be with you to feel and he will be.
Whenever he goes for you then I will be there to stop it all. When this is what you both had it is over for me I am going back in time in order to haunt you both.
This is not a ghost story this is a story about surviving the ordeals which you made for me and you sharing the stories as if yours. I will take it bit by bit.
Suffering and surfing on suffering.
Whatever you took from me. Not right?
This is a difficult night again I couldn't sleep the nurse must be awakened and healed me with his bad voice and mad behavior.
The nursing staff is getting weirder. It is something they can't help. Copying and coping some are ex mad.
I Ma no longer helpless. I am like everybody in a house in a house with walls.
"Of course you have walls. What do you expect?"
This female icon star is jealous of me and wants things that I have? Well here they are, honey, they are coming they are nearly here for you all for you.
You know in the past I was nice in the past I was kind in the past... There were things I believed in. You took them from me all of it.
You took them because you could not stand me having something anything. That is when I began to hate you.
The lover did not come back sin is delicious.
It is nothing you might add I have the drink. Well, that is just what you drink? Caffeine influence power won't help it is a justified thought is it not?
Hot baileys and then somehow something went weirder.
But never mind. In the middle of all this, what does it matter?
When he leaves for you this is what happens.
Dad was looking at me as if the darker person was never there. That I was the light in the room he said. If I moved he seemed to be fascinated as if I were a rabbit.
Mum, I shout but she does not respond. How much money has he given her I thought at the time?
Mum sat crossed arms as if the lost wind had called her. He is bloody been looking at me the whole day. And her rage was sure to find out the mistakes she had made in having me back. From the streets, she came from the streets. She did not want me there inside that space spoilt her life pleasures.
"I am a married woman a genteel wife."
The obscure little room filled with three beds and a table a television which sat in the center and then the sleeping two sisters while the rest of me wanted private thoughts in a private room. Dad sat there looking as if he had lost the plot as if he had lost the room as if he wanted something.