It has been a LONG time since I have posted an update -- my apologies for anyone who was initially keeping up. As always, I hope you enjoy this next part. I have many plans for this piece, and I hope to get all my thoughts down before too long! Enjoy :)
As soon as the door closed behind me, I let myself break down again. My head was a cloudy mess filled with anger, frustration, sadness, and guilt. I sat with my back against the closed door and just stared catatonically as tears flooded over my cheeks.
I must have stayed sitting with my arms wrapped around my knees for nearly an hour before I reasoned with myself that I needed to get up and get some work done. After struggling to get myself up, I saw in the mirror above my dresser just how wretched I looked. My hair was disheveled, mascara smudged, nose reddened, and eyes puffed. I needed to cleanse myself to feel new and rejuvenated before I could truly get into the mindset for work.
In the bathroom next to my bedroom, I looked at myself in the mirror again as I took off my clothes before getting into the shower. After I took off the blue v-neck and skirt and the tarnished underwear, I threw them into the trash so that they'd never be worn again. On my stomach there was still a little residue from Ryder's ejaculation. I scowled at the now dried-out and flaky layer on my skin.
Once again, my feelings shifted from grief to rage. I wasn't sure if I was more angry at the world or at myself. It was, after all, my fault that I had a regrettable afternoon with Ryder. I could have, should have told him no. I couldn't bear to look at his disgusting and animalistic excretion any longer. I yanked the shower curtain closed behind me and scrubbed my skin furiously under the hot water. I couldn't get enough soap on my body and the water, despite it turning my skin red, couldn't get hot enough to satisfy me. After thoroughly washing every inch of myself, I finally felt clean and "me" enough to get out. My entire body was pink from the temperature of the water and from my ferocious scrubbing.
The shower felt almost therapeutic and, back in my room, I selected the most comfortable clothes to wear for the rest of the day as another form of self-therapy.
Feeling newly recollected, I got my laptop out of my messenger bag and focused solely on getting the script done for Mr. Gradstein 's class tomorrow. I was determined to get a good grade on this assignment whether or not I received any help from Ryder or whether or not my dad thought it would even be worth my time.
My focus was uninterrupted and I eventually made a short script that I felt content with submitting. I reread it over and over, making sure there were no errors and that all the criteria was met. When I was sure I was satisfied, I hit save and closed the laptop.
For the rest of the evening, I remained bitter. Despite my stomach begging for food, I would not let myself go downstairs. Too many ugly possibilities. Either Mom and Dad would be arguing again, or Dad would bring up Northridge again, or Jasper would try to get me to play with him which would only further irritate me.
Northridge. There was no way anyone could make me go there. I had to figure out a way to make Dad see that Hollywood Arts is where I need to be. Maybe I could write a show that could be put on in the Black Box Theater, or land a solo at a school jam, or earn an audition for a real movie. As a Freshman, though, I doubted that I would get as many opportunities as some of the upperclassmen. All I could do is hope for something amazing to fall into my lap before the semester is over. Anything that would change Dad's mind.
I looked to my Pear phone to see what time it was -- 6:32PM. Not knowing what to do with the rest of the evening, I opted for scrolling through my phone. On The Slap, some other students were sharing what they're doing over the weekend; a few made goofy skits, others shared covers of songs, and some were simply sharing whatever was on their mind. As I was reading a fun fact about dogs in underwear in Italy, an orange notification symbol appeared on my inbox. It was a message from Ryder.
"Hey :) I had a great time with you this weekend. How's the script coming?"
It's crazy how fast a person can go from being enchanted by someone else to hating their guts. In his profile picture, he still looked devilishly handsome, but I was no longer in awe of it. I felt sick looking at him and had the urge to punch him in the face. And the nerve in asking about the progress of an assignment that he had literally contributed nothing to. Guilt and rage were threatening to make me cry again, but I refused. I decided to ignore Ryder's message and go to another app.
Checking the time again, I figured that I could watch a movie before falling asleep -- that would be a good way to wind down.
After scrolling for a bit through the usual sites, passing all of the movies and shows I've already watched and the ones I decided I would never want to watch, I thought that I might not ever find something before it was too late in the evening. I finally chose to go with a new release. Black Swan had just come out and from what I had heard, it was a good movie. The only thing that put me at bay was that it was a psychological thriller/horror -- I have never seen a movie of this genre before. Mom never let Jasper or I watch anything "creepy," "scary," or "unnatural." We were pretty much raised on the classics such as The Wizard of Oz and Gone With the Wind. Feeling a tinge of excitement for this new venture, I hit play for Black Swan.
My eyes were glued on my phone screen. It did not take long for me to become captivated by Natalie Portman's character, Nina. She needs to learn to grow into a character that is entirely opposite her. She is innocent, conscious of her every move, striven by perfection in her craft. She dances ballet solely with technique; no feeling, no confidence. But the role she has to play requires the duality of the sweet, innocent, and pristine white swan and the bold, loose, and sensual black swan. In her obsession with getting the part just right, her psyche slips. At times, it was hard to tell whether something had really happened or if it was a hallucination of Nina's.
While the story is truly a tragic one, there is much beauty in it. By the end of the movie, I wondered if I, too, would be like Nina. Would I find a role or project to pour all of my passion into and, in the process, would I learn to find my black swan self to compliment my white swan?
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Jade Awakening
أدب الهواة"So... acting is really about not acting. But instead about letting the emotions inside you come out and represent moments that deeply resonate with you.... I need to write that down!" An exploration of Jade West's backstory and the beginnings of B...
