Help, Im the worst kind of damsel in distress. - Jen Wesolowski (best historical fiction books of all time .TXT) 📗
- Author: Jen Wesolowski
Book online «Help, Im the worst kind of damsel in distress. - Jen Wesolowski (best historical fiction books of all time .TXT) 📗». Author Jen Wesolowski
do for love.
After moments my mind turned to a more peculiar dream, one that I had when my ex and I were on the verge of troubled undertone.
It started off as a bright relaxing day at a kind of resort, or a lodge. The atmosphere was light and the sky was the prettiest shade of blue. I was at the side of the pool chatting away, while he was off getting us drinks.
I suddenly looked toward the sky. It was a star, or some kind of outer meteor of some sort. It was like a bomb of glitter burning its way down.
I froze as my eyes registered the actuality of what this meant. I sat there accepting the conclusive way, and then I thought of him.
I sprouted up in a panic and I rushed around trying to find him through the crowd that was more like a circus now.
People were stampeding around like giant lizards, squirming tears of agony.
My worry at this point wasn’t the fact that in a mere 30 seconds or so I was going to die. We all were going to die, our planet was going to die. My main, and only concern was getting to see him for the last time. To get a glimpse of his beaming stare that shrinks even my biggest problem, into a pudding of muck.
I ran around shouting his name with so much force my throat started to swell. Finally after I heard him call out I twirled around quickly enough to make me lose my grace.
There he was 25 feet away marching toward me like a soldier full of death, trying one last time to capture life.
I pushed through the startled bunch but I knew it was too late. I saw it in the sky, and more disheartening, I saw it in his face.
He screamed out “I love you! & after this death, I‘ll love you still”
I answered “Find me in the next life love, promise me you will?”
He wept “Of course, I won’t stop until I find you once again, I’m all yours”
Then my last words ever were “Ill meet you at heavens doors.”
I was taken back just then after remembering such a dream, that I couldn’t believe has diminished in my memory.
I had to get home. The public wasn’t the place for me for the state of emotion I had just loomed myself into. I retreated my books and scampered off to check out. Soon I will be home, and then I could get a grip on what a mess I made of myself.
I would imagine skeletons, wrapped in water colors. The shadows will come out to say hello. I’m the slacking girl who peeks out her window, strangely acquiring the shaking of the neighbor. Oddly caught, the startle rules the bones, highly connected yet I’m alone. Away from our judgment in words, spirit lies in descions, the turns. Please help, to stop the sinning, my rinsed out heart cant discuss the un-hope, the evil. The pile of mess I flow and fully at rest. Riders on the rainbow, stay clear of the end. Switching through red, orange & yellow. Make me understand. Green blue indigo. I have to let this go.
The next weeks were fuzzy, the blend of cigarettes and whiskey had a numbing effect on my senses. Exposed to the consciousness of psychosis which had a never ending blur on the way I approached things. Regrouping through this was a mission my body was forced to examine, and it wouldn’t be easy.
After the hell risen from my stupid actions I had to sink into my spiritual boutique to reconnect with the bounds of reality. A week long whiskey binge never was the answer to any long driven problem. And it most surely was never a smart thing to indulge in while battling with a kind of depression. But I was never one to rationalize, I was prone to acting on impulses.
After a day or so sober, I headed to the gym to detoxify the poison I drowned my brain in so subjectively. When I got there I worked out seldom on the treadmill then threw in the towel when I fell faint. I walked down to the pool-side and couldn’t help but to wonder if that handsome fellow from a month ago would be there treading so perfectly in the water.
To my disappointment his absence was a burden, which made me realize a part of me had a soft spot for him.
After I left the gym, I drove down Oxen road debating whether or not I wanted to go home. When I saw a lost seagull dashing from the traffic, I settled on visiting the nearest beach.
The sky had an overcast but the wind was timid. I walked bare foot through the sand and picked up the peebles that resembled hearts.
The scene was almost fully deprived of human-life, but the seagulls they soared. Sensing the storm I guessed, they traveled in flocks of four and looked like dancers in the sky. So beautiful I thought, to fly aimlessly greeting the rain.
I sat under a pavilion as the rain grew nastier, but I was surprisingly content with my body temperature, only wearing thin sweats I thought I should be cold.
The tides started to grow, slashing onto the land. At first slowly, but then the time between each tide was merely seconds apart.
The sky was the most pious dark of blue now looking even more extravagant at each thrashing bolt. I stared straight into the horizon listening to the powerful roars Mother nature was exhaling. At each sound, a striking vibration shot through me. The intensity was so stimulating I would compare it to a ‘release of sexual innuendo’.
Greatly overwhelmed, I rushed onto the shore. Twirling around like those dancers in the sky. Each drop of rain was now spilling onto me. It was like as if I was being cleansed by the heavens.
I began chanting a particular line from the Buddhism book I read one day at the gym. “if you don’t try to hold, you don’t suffer over the loss, you don’t fear death. If you don’t worship life but if you try to hold on to life, its very sad. You can honor life but if you try to hold onto life…. Its very sad.”
“if you don’t try to hold, you don’t suffer over the loss, you don’t fear death. If you don’t worship life but if you try to hold on to life, its very sad. You can honor life but if you try to hold onto life…. Its very sad.”
I kept repeating the exact lines again, and again. My body kept twisting and spinning, laughing and singing. The lightening it gleamed like swords of courage, reversing all elements that’s been keeping me discouraged. The wind directing my enjoyment, highlighting my splendor a sight of flamboyant. I tilted my head, directing towards the blue, I shouted out to my Angel’s “I know what to do!”
The rain now was pouring quite profusely, and the gusts have sent my flip flops long off to sea. Just then I heard a loud yet gentle voice call out. It was a girl, around my age id guess, maybe a little younger. She was calling out something the wind had turned to rubbish. But her gesture was telling me to hurry on over.
The condition it was outside, looked as if it was only going to get worse so I gratefully jogged toward the girl, knowing she was going to welcome me to come into her dry home.
She greeted me politely and introduced herself as Andrea Watson. She explained that this beach house belongs to her grandmother, and that she saw me outside in the storm then insisted on inviting me inside. I thanked her genuinely then asked her where her grandmother was now.
“She’s in the kitchen area boiling us a pot of tea, she thought you would like some, figured you had to be pretty cold out there.” Andrea said ending almost with a smile.
“Oh, yeah I would like a cup very much so.” I replied.
Andrea then directed me toward the bathroom area and handed me some dry clothes to borrow.
The bathroom smelled of freshly diced oranges that refreshed my liveliness. I traced my smeared makeup that trickled down my cheeks, with a warm wash cloth. I undressed completely and then I stood in the body mirror admiring what I saw. I often forgot just how striking I really looked.
In the seconds I stood there wholly in the nude my approbation suddenly curved into shock. I was startling interrupted by an innocent invasion. On honest mistake on his part, but the man that accidentally walked in saw me entirely, and my embarrassment scorned through me like the lightening that was still falling out of the sky.
I dressed promptly. The panic I felt graciously came over me and I deliberated for a second on whether or not I should escape out of the bathroom window. But that thought weakened when I realized that the storm at this moment was tremendously wicked.
I splashed my face with a handful of water from the faucet and I calmed myself, rationalizing the facts. Firstly, it would be not only rude but disrespectful to turn away from these nice people that offered me their home. Secondly, it was a mistake and when I thought about it, it was rather humorous, something out of a comedy. Lastly, given what he saw I’m quite certain it wasn’t a tragedy on his part.
After my nerves diminished a bit, I walked toward the seating area in which I was brought when I was invited inside.
There sat Andrea, and what had to be her grandmother.
“Oh dear, I apologize for Thomas barging in on you, he wasn’t aware of you being here. He was napping when you arrived.” Her grandmother exclaimed.
“Oh, no. It’s not a problem, it just took me by surprise at first.” I said with a chuckle.
“Alright then, good, please sit.” And then she handed me a cup of tea.
The three of us sat there chatting. Her grandmother (who kindly insisted on me calling her Florence) asked me the essentials. Where I live, where I attended school, Do my parents know where I am…
We sat there talking and the whole time all I could think about was Thomas. They explained that he was Andreas older brother, and that they have been staying for the week. But something felt uncanny in me when they spoke of him, or when I thought of him. Not a negative feeling once so ever, but a feeling that warmed my blood and dwindled my breath.
After awhile I asked Florence the time because I had left my cell phone inside my car, and when she told me it was 8:12, I was stunned.
“Really, oh wow.” I searched for my words. “In that case, I think I better heading home.”
Florence protested, saying that it was treacherous weather and there was no way she would let me drive home in it. She offered me her phone and told me
After moments my mind turned to a more peculiar dream, one that I had when my ex and I were on the verge of troubled undertone.
It started off as a bright relaxing day at a kind of resort, or a lodge. The atmosphere was light and the sky was the prettiest shade of blue. I was at the side of the pool chatting away, while he was off getting us drinks.
I suddenly looked toward the sky. It was a star, or some kind of outer meteor of some sort. It was like a bomb of glitter burning its way down.
I froze as my eyes registered the actuality of what this meant. I sat there accepting the conclusive way, and then I thought of him.
I sprouted up in a panic and I rushed around trying to find him through the crowd that was more like a circus now.
People were stampeding around like giant lizards, squirming tears of agony.
My worry at this point wasn’t the fact that in a mere 30 seconds or so I was going to die. We all were going to die, our planet was going to die. My main, and only concern was getting to see him for the last time. To get a glimpse of his beaming stare that shrinks even my biggest problem, into a pudding of muck.
I ran around shouting his name with so much force my throat started to swell. Finally after I heard him call out I twirled around quickly enough to make me lose my grace.
There he was 25 feet away marching toward me like a soldier full of death, trying one last time to capture life.
I pushed through the startled bunch but I knew it was too late. I saw it in the sky, and more disheartening, I saw it in his face.
He screamed out “I love you! & after this death, I‘ll love you still”
I answered “Find me in the next life love, promise me you will?”
He wept “Of course, I won’t stop until I find you once again, I’m all yours”
Then my last words ever were “Ill meet you at heavens doors.”
I was taken back just then after remembering such a dream, that I couldn’t believe has diminished in my memory.
I had to get home. The public wasn’t the place for me for the state of emotion I had just loomed myself into. I retreated my books and scampered off to check out. Soon I will be home, and then I could get a grip on what a mess I made of myself.
I would imagine skeletons, wrapped in water colors. The shadows will come out to say hello. I’m the slacking girl who peeks out her window, strangely acquiring the shaking of the neighbor. Oddly caught, the startle rules the bones, highly connected yet I’m alone. Away from our judgment in words, spirit lies in descions, the turns. Please help, to stop the sinning, my rinsed out heart cant discuss the un-hope, the evil. The pile of mess I flow and fully at rest. Riders on the rainbow, stay clear of the end. Switching through red, orange & yellow. Make me understand. Green blue indigo. I have to let this go.
The next weeks were fuzzy, the blend of cigarettes and whiskey had a numbing effect on my senses. Exposed to the consciousness of psychosis which had a never ending blur on the way I approached things. Regrouping through this was a mission my body was forced to examine, and it wouldn’t be easy.
After the hell risen from my stupid actions I had to sink into my spiritual boutique to reconnect with the bounds of reality. A week long whiskey binge never was the answer to any long driven problem. And it most surely was never a smart thing to indulge in while battling with a kind of depression. But I was never one to rationalize, I was prone to acting on impulses.
After a day or so sober, I headed to the gym to detoxify the poison I drowned my brain in so subjectively. When I got there I worked out seldom on the treadmill then threw in the towel when I fell faint. I walked down to the pool-side and couldn’t help but to wonder if that handsome fellow from a month ago would be there treading so perfectly in the water.
To my disappointment his absence was a burden, which made me realize a part of me had a soft spot for him.
After I left the gym, I drove down Oxen road debating whether or not I wanted to go home. When I saw a lost seagull dashing from the traffic, I settled on visiting the nearest beach.
The sky had an overcast but the wind was timid. I walked bare foot through the sand and picked up the peebles that resembled hearts.
The scene was almost fully deprived of human-life, but the seagulls they soared. Sensing the storm I guessed, they traveled in flocks of four and looked like dancers in the sky. So beautiful I thought, to fly aimlessly greeting the rain.
I sat under a pavilion as the rain grew nastier, but I was surprisingly content with my body temperature, only wearing thin sweats I thought I should be cold.
The tides started to grow, slashing onto the land. At first slowly, but then the time between each tide was merely seconds apart.
The sky was the most pious dark of blue now looking even more extravagant at each thrashing bolt. I stared straight into the horizon listening to the powerful roars Mother nature was exhaling. At each sound, a striking vibration shot through me. The intensity was so stimulating I would compare it to a ‘release of sexual innuendo’.
Greatly overwhelmed, I rushed onto the shore. Twirling around like those dancers in the sky. Each drop of rain was now spilling onto me. It was like as if I was being cleansed by the heavens.
I began chanting a particular line from the Buddhism book I read one day at the gym. “if you don’t try to hold, you don’t suffer over the loss, you don’t fear death. If you don’t worship life but if you try to hold on to life, its very sad. You can honor life but if you try to hold onto life…. Its very sad.”
“if you don’t try to hold, you don’t suffer over the loss, you don’t fear death. If you don’t worship life but if you try to hold on to life, its very sad. You can honor life but if you try to hold onto life…. Its very sad.”
I kept repeating the exact lines again, and again. My body kept twisting and spinning, laughing and singing. The lightening it gleamed like swords of courage, reversing all elements that’s been keeping me discouraged. The wind directing my enjoyment, highlighting my splendor a sight of flamboyant. I tilted my head, directing towards the blue, I shouted out to my Angel’s “I know what to do!”
The rain now was pouring quite profusely, and the gusts have sent my flip flops long off to sea. Just then I heard a loud yet gentle voice call out. It was a girl, around my age id guess, maybe a little younger. She was calling out something the wind had turned to rubbish. But her gesture was telling me to hurry on over.
The condition it was outside, looked as if it was only going to get worse so I gratefully jogged toward the girl, knowing she was going to welcome me to come into her dry home.
She greeted me politely and introduced herself as Andrea Watson. She explained that this beach house belongs to her grandmother, and that she saw me outside in the storm then insisted on inviting me inside. I thanked her genuinely then asked her where her grandmother was now.
“She’s in the kitchen area boiling us a pot of tea, she thought you would like some, figured you had to be pretty cold out there.” Andrea said ending almost with a smile.
“Oh, yeah I would like a cup very much so.” I replied.
Andrea then directed me toward the bathroom area and handed me some dry clothes to borrow.
The bathroom smelled of freshly diced oranges that refreshed my liveliness. I traced my smeared makeup that trickled down my cheeks, with a warm wash cloth. I undressed completely and then I stood in the body mirror admiring what I saw. I often forgot just how striking I really looked.
In the seconds I stood there wholly in the nude my approbation suddenly curved into shock. I was startling interrupted by an innocent invasion. On honest mistake on his part, but the man that accidentally walked in saw me entirely, and my embarrassment scorned through me like the lightening that was still falling out of the sky.
I dressed promptly. The panic I felt graciously came over me and I deliberated for a second on whether or not I should escape out of the bathroom window. But that thought weakened when I realized that the storm at this moment was tremendously wicked.
I splashed my face with a handful of water from the faucet and I calmed myself, rationalizing the facts. Firstly, it would be not only rude but disrespectful to turn away from these nice people that offered me their home. Secondly, it was a mistake and when I thought about it, it was rather humorous, something out of a comedy. Lastly, given what he saw I’m quite certain it wasn’t a tragedy on his part.
After my nerves diminished a bit, I walked toward the seating area in which I was brought when I was invited inside.
There sat Andrea, and what had to be her grandmother.
“Oh dear, I apologize for Thomas barging in on you, he wasn’t aware of you being here. He was napping when you arrived.” Her grandmother exclaimed.
“Oh, no. It’s not a problem, it just took me by surprise at first.” I said with a chuckle.
“Alright then, good, please sit.” And then she handed me a cup of tea.
The three of us sat there chatting. Her grandmother (who kindly insisted on me calling her Florence) asked me the essentials. Where I live, where I attended school, Do my parents know where I am…
We sat there talking and the whole time all I could think about was Thomas. They explained that he was Andreas older brother, and that they have been staying for the week. But something felt uncanny in me when they spoke of him, or when I thought of him. Not a negative feeling once so ever, but a feeling that warmed my blood and dwindled my breath.
After awhile I asked Florence the time because I had left my cell phone inside my car, and when she told me it was 8:12, I was stunned.
“Really, oh wow.” I searched for my words. “In that case, I think I better heading home.”
Florence protested, saying that it was treacherous weather and there was no way she would let me drive home in it. She offered me her phone and told me
Free e-book «Help, Im the worst kind of damsel in distress. - Jen Wesolowski (best historical fiction books of all time .TXT) 📗» - read online now
Add a comment
Comments (0)