Gypsy

Ch.2- Too old for Dolls.

another F. Of course! dear Journal, I'm sorry if everything I write gets too depressing but I cried myself to sleep again last night because I started thinking. I do this all the time. I'll start to think of something sad and all of a sudden i'm uncontrollably crying! I can't remember what was so sad though, probably something stupid like remembering back from when I was eight and I lost my chocolate bar;turns out Linda ate it.

"Rachel! Downstairs!" Father called from the old carpeted staircase,"You spend too much time up there, its not good for your health."

Anyways, I'm being called to spend more time with my broken, messed up, yet lovable family. I'll write again later.

Rachel

"Ewww! Rachel! What are you doing with your food!"

"Hahaha! i think its funny"

I had turned my meal into a face. I find daily life a lot more entertaining when you do things like that. My Grandmother slapped my wrists,"Stop that," she spoke with authority. I grabbed my fork and mushed it all together until I had a big, brown glob on my plate before I ate it.

After dinner we all went outside to play. Dad and I moved over by the shed and he taught me more karate. while Linda and Patricia went off somewhere else to talk about whatever they talk about. grandma went gardening.

"higher, higher! C'mon Rachel! how are you supposed to defend yourself if you can't even reach your head in a kick? You're a petite girl, Rachel." Dad was hounding on me once again, but I appreciated it.

                                                                      ...

It was midnight already and I was wide awake. Every time I fell asleep the same nightmare haunted my thoughts.

I'm at some sort of club, dancing. I don't know why, though, I would never go to a party;it's just not my scene. Everyone keeps calling me Gypsy, and I have no clue why. Apparently 'Gypsy' didn't like it inside the club either so I left.

I'm on a pier, still dancing and twirling. Bubbly and...lost. I'm giggling, though I'm not sure why. In the back of my mind I know something bad is going to happen. I know that this is a nightmare and will myself to wake up but can't. I'm stuck in a body that definitely doesn't belong to me. I'm stuck in 'Gypsy'. The next thing I know I can't breath. I'm struggling, there's something blocking my airway. I can't see anymore, I can't hear, I can't do anything! i'm struggling both in my mind and in reality, trying to open my lungs and let some air in. It's complete blackness, and it's much to quiet. i can't hear myself scream. Am I screaming? Why am I not screaming? i should be screaming, I'm in danger! i can't breath!

I wake up in a sweat. My sheets are clinging to my body along with my nightdress. breathing heavily, I slowly kick off my blankets and let the cold Quebec air cool my hot skin. I slowly step out of bed and walk towards my dresser, my sticky feet squishing against the carpet. I stare in my small, round mirror hanging on the wall to find a pale being staring back at her. She had messy, matted hair, blood shot eyes and thin, chapped lips. Slowly the colour returns to her pale face. She had droplets of water decorating her already disheveled appearance.

I could feel a few tears threatening to spill out but willed them not too. 'I have to stay strong, I'm a Nardelli, Nardelli's don't cry. Nardelli's are strong. Think of sister Patricia and how instead of crying when her boyfriend broke up with her for some Salope she burned his clothes and every picture an memory she ever had of him.

"Be strong, like Patricia." I whisper to my reflection. I turn on my heels and head to my single bed with the sheets and blankets all piled together in the corner of the bed on account of my kicking. I reach under the bed and pull out my bin of dolls. I create a perfect world for my dolls. one that's filled with happiness, everyone is smiling no matter what and no one feels sadness. No one dies.