Ruthanne Georgeson High

💎 •Static and Motion Dreams•

 | Dedicated to Miriel_Oye |

•••

          While she slept, still and peaceful, nature-defying images in black and white colors played behind her lightly closed lids and her breaths went in and out like a butterfly brushing against flowers and swiftly taking off. Inches from her face, another dream, static, real, concrete and material, lay on a stool. A dream achievable, a dream powerful enough to change lives and give breathing a purpose. Dreams aren't just images the subconscious mind play when one's asleep, but are images it realizes while one's awake. Dreams are the portal to fantastical experiences, metaphorically and literally.

          Demi's eyes fluttered open.

Her vision blurred and her mind dazed as she stared at the cracks and cobwebs in the ceiling that was once white. A flesh-tearing pain ripped through her body, forcing her mind awake and back to reality. She pushed herself up on her elbows and looked around the room as the pain clawed at her joints. The mattress she slept on was practically a flap foam. Sleeping on it was no different from sleeping on the hard, cold floor.

Ruthanne ... the thought slipped into her mind.

Her head rolled around to look at the letter and her heart did small flips. She gently pushed herself up, groaning as she did. She put her legs down onto the side of the mattress. Grabbing the letter, she dragged herself across the small room to the window overlooking the bustling ghetto street.

It's been three days since she received the scholarship letter and yet it still felt exhilarating, she felt flushed with happiness. Her body tingled in anticipation as each second, and minute, and hour ticked away and her heart inflated with hope.

And a burning optimism.

For what Ruthanne holds and what it hoards.

For the path set before her, for the memories and experiences.

For what lay ahead. And for what is to become, of her.

A bottle smashed and she jolted out of her thoughts.

She squinted her eyes and peered into the distance, trying to make out what was happening a little farther away from her. Screams and running feet filled the air, bodies, and objects collided. It was a commotion and beneath it all, she could hear a string of curses in raw voices. She settled back on her toes and into the room. It was the hooligans fighting again.

She turned away from the window and looked around the room. She was the only one at home. Jola had gone to work; Mide, to school; Posi, being an indolent ass, was definitely smoking and wasting away with other street girls, and she had chores to do.

Chores which she set to doing right away.

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        She pulled the room's door shut behind her and strolled to the middle of the parlor, carrying a chemistry textbook, a notepad, and a pencil. She settled onto the red carpet, sitting cross-legged and pulled the wooden table close to her. She set the things in her hands on the table and flipped the pages of the textbook till she got to a chapter titled Kinetic Theory.  She read a few pages, refreshing her memory and more as a pastime. Then she took the pad and the pencil, turned the textbook over to the last pages and began solving some questions based on the chapter she'd read.