Life is a tricky thing. It makes us believe that we are meant for something greater than what we actually are. Do those dreams carry us out to accomplish our goals, or are they a waste of puff that is only hazing our vision.
I thought it would be helpful and hopeful to dream…but now…now I’m not so sure.
Carmelita pushes me off the sofa. I still do not wake. “Get up! Get up,” she says. I am like a stone when I dream, dream of getting away from this thing called life.
Her final push, she goes into the kitchen and fills a cup with water. Waddles over and throws it on me. She doesn’t even try to aim at my face, just watches as the water dribbles onto my back. That does it; I wake with a screaming anger.
“Oh my god!” I react. “Your water broke?!” I think for a second she has gone into labor and that I had been the unlucky to be covered in her fluids.
“No, no,” she says as she grabs onto my arm, with the other she pulls up her dress and I flinch as I see her lower area. Yuck, she has no panties on.
“Then what the hell?!” I touch my back, the tank top sticks to it and I feel cold all the way to my nipples.
“Nando is coming, you need to leave.”
I stare at Carmelita, she cannot be serious. She is ready to pop but she still wants to have it on with strange men. I have asked her who the father of her child is but she waves it away as if it was of no importance. Does she not think of her kid and the questions they will be asking when they get to that certain age where they want to know? (Will she want to raise her child in this sort of place? Did she even think about these things?) I, myself still want to know who my father is—but then that would mean digging information on my mother and no way am I doing that. Carmelita, who is my sister doesn't know squat and so I am a blind fool when it comes to our family.
“Get out, get out!” She shoos me out into the uneven dirt road and closes the rickety door of our trailer home. I did not even ask her when I could come back. I start walking, my pink slippers attracting dirt, just like me.
888
On my walk, I stare at the sun that is on the rise. It illuminates the backdrop of all the other trailer homes; I even walk backwards for a bit so my back can dry.
My stomach grumbles and I fold my arms over the racket. I should have grabbed a piece of hotdog bread.
“Hey,” I hear on the left side. Devon is peeking out of his door, waving me over. I slowly walk toward him. “Why are you up at this time?”
“Carmelita,” I answer. He nods. Everyone around here knows Carmelita, especially the men. Devon might have had to do something with her by the way he gives his attention to her.
“You wanna come in? Have a cup of coffee?” He tilts his head, his hair sticking to the aluminum door. His intention is not just coffee, it never is with these people.
Touching my back to see if it has dried I say, “Sure.”
888
Closing my eyes I leave this world as Devon presses me onto the cold floor. Why is this all cold? Everything about it is inhumane and just bizarre but I do not fight it, not anymore. I dream of fields and the sun kissing my skin as Devon does the same. Delicious thunderous wind as Devon goes on and on with words that I do not want to hear.
After he is done, he leans on me, his face in my chest. My dream has wisped away, landing me in his trailer. It is dingy and dirty, dishes building in the sink, sofas ripped and stained, beer cans strewn all over, just like Carmelita’s. I wonder if she felt the same as I do, if she was in the exact spot…how she is faring right now with Nando? Will she wonder where I am? Will she ask when I get back?
There is a cockroach in my line of vision and I watch it as it crawls closer and closer to my shoulder, its little antennas twitching here and there.
There was a time where I fought it, but now…I relinquish, this act with Devon has made me realize there is no escaping this life that I tried so hard to get undone.
I watch the cockroach quietly crawl on my skin, nearing my mouth. I stay still, feeling the little feet tapping on my flesh, I close my eyes as Devon’s hands work on my breasts. I attempt to bring up the memory of the warm sun but I dream nothing. Nothing. I have become my fate, my life, just how it is intended from the very beginning.
