The Girl with the Golden Eyes

Prologue:

Can I just wake up from this nightmare? This corner of my dreams are fading into the bad memories of my past. This nightmare is my reality. A moment can slowly just pass by and when that moment is gone, there is no saving. There is no saving in me. I’m just a drug addict.

There is just something truly wrong about me. Something Sad. I feel like if my mind is distorted. My consciousness is colliding with my subconscious. Heaven is colliding with hell. I just need a pinch. Maybe a pinch would save me. Everytime I wake up, I forget, with nothing in mind. I don’t ever want to have a regret. I wish my life was a life of safe. There is never a guarantee that I’ll face my adversities.

My life is a waking dream. My cuts are becoming scars. Scars that’ll never go away. The needles have imprinted its way into my arm.

I feel like an ass. I can hear my mom’s crying, begging me to stop. She thinks that it’s her fault I’m like this. I can truly say, I ignore her.

There is never something right I can do. I dropped out of school. I steal money from my mom. I knocked her down yesterday. I threatened I’d kill her.

“Please,” she’d scream, “Don’t.”

I went through her drawer, took her hard earned money, that she was saving for her medication.

I couldn’t see past what she did for me. I left her laying there in the ground. I’m an idiot. I’m such an idiot. I can’t live with myself. Her laughing eyes appears in my mind when I was sober.

The remembrance of us sitting on the porch talking about my future crosses daily through my eyes. Her embrace saved me from myself.

“I am me. I am the girl with the golden eyes. I am different. I am beautiful. I am strong. I am me.”

She’d make me repeat this over and over growing up because growing up I thought I was ugly.

“Hey, Janice here. Sorry I’m not here at the moment. But! You can leave me a message and number, I’ll get back to you. Have a great day or a good night!”

Hearing her voicemail persistently made me smile.

“Hey mom, it’s me Jade. I miss you,” I stopped to take a breath, feeling a tear streamed down my face, “I want to talk to you. I want to listen. You know my number. I love you. I hope you get back to me.”

I hung up. “Now I’m listening mom. Go say it!”

Now, I couldn’t hear her voice. I knew she wouldn’t get back to me. You don’t realize what you have until it’s gone. Now I only have memories. I wouldn’t think she’ll need to be dead for me to listen.

I’m listen now and searching for your voice mom.