Serenity’s Soul
February 10, 2010
Dear Serenity’s Soul,
The day was dry and silent, and I felt that may be I needed to warm my cold bitterness towards Stacey with a gentle act of kindness. Don’t misunderstand, I still believe she is ungrateful—and I still don’t get why she had to come along. Nothing about her makes sense, but you know…perhaps someone thought that nothing about me made sense either, and if they turned their backs on me for that reason alone….I’d probably be dead. I haven’t lived the perfect life either, and I’m not the perfect person.
So I took Mocha outside with me and walked up to Stacey. She was smoking a cigarette while sitting at the picnic table.
“Can we join you?” I asked her as kindly as I could.
She only shrugged her shoulders. I took that as a yes and sat down with Mocha in my lap.
I just looked at her without saying anything for a few seconds. She blew out a puff of smoke, paused, and said, “You didn’t wanna sit here to stare at me did you?”
“No. I do have something to say, but I just don’t know what it is yet.”
She looked down at Mocha. “What kind a dog is she anyway?”
I looked at Mocha and held her closely. “I don’t know. I just found her on the street one day, and I knew she needed me. She was the only little thing in life that made me feel like I was needed.”
Stacey just looked at me strangely. “You hate me don’t you?”
Her question stunned me, but I decided to answer her honestly. “It’s not that I hate you. I don’t hate you, but I don’t like how you act.”
“And how do I act?”
“You act like you don’t appreciate anything or anyone. You have this attitude, like the world owes you.”
“Have you ever been hurt before, Monica?”
I looked away for a few seconds. I couldn’t respond.
“Well, the fact that you needed a little dog to help you feel needed in this world lets me know that people let you down too and left you out in the hot desert sun to rot.”
I couldn’t get mad at her, after all, it felt very much like the truth.
“Didn’t you read the pages of Serenity’s Soul? Didn’t you read enough to know I have been hurt?”
I saw tears come into her eyes. “I didn’t read your precious pages. I picked up your journal with the intention to read all about you, and your thoughts, and your life, but I couldn’t. Those pages are not mine.”
Suddenly, I found myself feeling her pain. “You can talk to me, Stacey. Despite what was said before, I do care.”
Then she wiped her eyes. “Yeah….I just need to say that I’m sorry about how I act. I’m no princess or anything. I’m just….I’m just me. I gotta go.”
“Go? Where?”
“For a walk or something. I can’t sit.”
“Do you need us to walk with you?”
“No. I need to be alone. I’ll be back around night time.”
Then she just walked away, just like some distant mystery. She didn’t read your pages, she doesn’t know what pain I’ve revealed. If only I could help her in some way. If I could just….wait, my cellphone is ringing. My mother is calling. I will finish this later.
Monica
