Inside A Muddled Mind: Distorted Memories

Can you live again

The car ride back with Luke was uncomfortable. I couldn't stop fidgeting. We didn't speak at all. I kept glancing at him unsure of what to do. I absolutely hate this feeling. You know how people say that when you're nervous it feels like a thousand butterflies in your stomach? Well to me it feels like a thousand and one deer clashing in my heart. And it was that feeling mixed with the twin tornadoes, silence and fear, that was slowly throwing me over the edge. With this being said, I can't blame him for putting me in the back seat.

"How about some music?" Luke askes.

Startled, I jump up resulting in me smacking my head on the roof. I look up at the roof of the car shocked. I look at Luke through the mirror and then back at the car roof.

"It didn't even dent." I say a little sadly.

Luke stared at the mirror and then burst out laughing until tears ran down his face. I feel my face turn hot.

"It wasn't that funny." I mumble.

Luke gave a weak cough and popped a CD in the stereo. Soon I found myself humming the familiar tune to "We don't have to dance" by Andy Black.

Records scratch, Steve Miller bands

I let the music course through my veins. My pulse seems to echo the all too familiar tempo.

How do you not drown in a rainstorm? Ooh.

Fresh regrets, Vodka sweats.

I'm bobbing my head the way I used to. Music is my life.

You're looking and whispering, you think I'm someone else

By the time the last lyric is played I've given myself a headache but regardless of that I still find myself grinning like an idiot. A few more songs play before I realize that we've stopped in front of a big white house. Well maybe it's only big to me.

"I thought we were going home?" I say in a hushed tone.

"Oh, I, uh, I forgot to tell you that we moved. After you left the press way over there all the time and my dad thought that would upset you when you came back."

I nodded as a reply. I really don't want to see them. Luke starts walking to the door and I slowly trail behind him...like a shadow. The inside of the house is pristine. The cream carpets are soft and fluffy, not a single spot or stain tarnishes the sensational splendor. The pearl light fixtures protrude from the wall with pride. The porcelain vases and all the tiny trinkets sit in their places untouched by the everyday collection of unruly dust. I stood there with a sense of unease. These People cannot my parents. My parents are messy and fight and are loud. This house is too clean and quiet.

"Humm, they're not home." Luke turns to face me, "You must be tired, and how about I show you to your room so you can rest and freshen up a bit?" I nod and follow him down a long hall. My unease growing with every step. Luke's back slowly fades into his back as memories entangle themselves with reality until I can't tell the difference. I can feel the panic digging itself deeper into my gut and the scream trying to force itself out of my lungs. Suddenly Luke stops in front of a blank white door it's the only door that still remains blank. One door is painted red and pink another is black and red it has a sign that says keep out. I'm guessing the red and pink one is my mom and stepfathers unless Luke suddenly had a fancy for pink. Well the same could go for both but the colors are what really did it. I don't know why but just seen the colors it feels out of place. My mother never did like color unless they were ones they had tons of class or it was pink. I remember my mom used to have this terrible right pink just utterly ridiculous ugly pink sweater that she used to wear all the time every winter. Despite my tear I still felt like laughing I couldn't help it just remembering my mother but they're bouncing blonde hair all curled into I don't even know what to call it a perm I guess wearing that ugly blouse. Luke opens a white door. I hold my breath suddenly a little bit scared again I don't know what to think. It just reminds me of being inside that penitentiary or the nuthouse as my parents call it. But in the end I guess an empty room is better than a locked room.

Just like the door, everything in the room is white with just a bed with a nightstand with a small lamp and a dresser. I walk over to the drawers and look at an open each one of them all of them are basically empty except for a few pairs of socks underwear a single sports bra and some fuzzy socks. I walk over to the small closet with sliding doors that's on the far right-hand side other room. There's nothing in there but a few t-shirts and some jeans. I'm not complaining because that's more than I had before. I can tell that they did a little bit of donating as all of my blouses and dresses are gone I have none of my shorts anymore except for my pajama bottoms but those are my super baggy ones that look like skirts that go down to my knees. I have no tank tops and no spaghetti straps. I closed the closet door and go straight to the left hand side of the room where the bathroom is. The bathroom itself is small there's only room for standing shower that has an old brown curtain they came from our old house. A small sink with an oval mirror over it and the toilet right next to it. As I had said before I can't really complain because it just came from a place that offered no privacy.

"Well I'll leave you then if everything is to your liking"

I turned around and looked at him not in my head. I watched him walk out a faint feeling of relief washed over me. I walked over to the twin bed with a white cover and sheets. It was made to perfection with no wrinkles in it. I sat on it feeling kind of bad for ruining the flawlessness of it. I sat there staring at the fluffy pillow begging me just to lie down. And I did as soon as my head touched it I fell asleep claim me as his. I don't know how long it was but I must have slept for a very long time giving me the much-needed rest that I could never have back at that place.

I woke up to a crash.

"LOOK WHAT YOU DID, SLUT!"

"Shhh. David you need to quiet down. She's here."

"I DON'T GIVE A DAMN WOMAN! THAT WHORE CAN GO BACK TO WHERE EVER SHE CAME FROM!"

I feel fresh, warm tears slide down my face. The familiar sensations of rejection and filth fill my every being. Down past my bone to my very soul. I bury my face in my knees. I knew this would be a mistake even before it started. And so began new Lake of Tears. Who knew that pain was a never ending experience?

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A picture of Luke up top *-)