Serenity’s Soul
February 9, 2010
Dear Serenity’s Soul,
My vision of the moon is beginning to fade as dreams become closer than they were before, when I first stepped upon the blades of the morning grass. I began another journey along the same old way, but still adding to this happening we call a day, and this puzzle we call life. I thought that it was going to be another empty day, the same as yesterday—but no, this day was far from being empty. Francis had business to take care of in town, so she asked me to go with her. I did and we laughed and talked about silly things along the way. I love Francis. She is the golden mentor that I’ve never really had, and without her in my life at this point…I just don’t know what I would do. So, we got into town and Francis went into this office building. I didn’t want to follow her. Business is not my thing, so I just decided to walk around a little. I window shopped and stared at all the pretty dresses I couldn’t have. I saw the fashionable shoes that I could wear if my life were only different, and oh…the purses I’d carry. I was trapped in a day dream staring at those things. My wishes were becoming out of control to the point that I was talking to myself and the people passing by started to give me strange looks. So, I snapped out of my wishful thinking and walked a short distance around the corner. It was around this little seemingly innocent and silent corner that I stopped in my tracks when my eyes suddenly looked through the window across the street into a small coffee shop where….they sat. THEY—my mother and HIM, the tall, young, dark haired fellow I passed on the street not too long ago. The same one that fit the description Mr. Papa gave me back at the apartment--the piece of the puzzle that never made sense and still doesn’t. I was stunned beyond words, beyond movement. I tried to move my body, but my mind kept asking me who…no…what…no wait, why? Maybe all of it at the same time raced through my mind like some whirlwind of confusion. I’m still not clear. I still don’t know. I could hear some muffled sound calling my name, and some extra words after that. Then I felt a tap on my shoulder.
“Monica? There you are. Are you ready?”
It was Francis, and I just looked at her with big eyes.
“What’s wrong, Dear?”
This was the perfect opportunity to gather something that resembled an answer, but I did such an unrealistic thing…
“Nothing. Nothing is wrong. I-I was just walking around.”
Francis kept talking. She was saying something about the business man, but my mind could not focus on anyone else’s words, but on only what I had just seen. Two pieces of this puzzle that were never supposed to be connected, somehow know each other. I felt the need to panic, but I didn’t. When we got back to the house, I just quietly got out, went in, and went straight to my room where I caught Stacey doing something that angered me to my core. Within her hands, there you were. She was reading your precious pages, and she stopped when I entered the room. She stopped and dropped you on the floor. Mocha came running up to me, but I could not recognize her greeting. Francis was still fumbling around outside with papers I guess…but she wasn’t in that house.
“How dare you.” I said very angrily through my teeth.
Stacey just looked at me. There was not really an expression on her face, just a motionless look.
“How dare you pick up what is my life and feel that it’s just okay for you to read it. I thought you didn’t care. I thought..”
I was interrupted by Pamela, another lady in the house. “Oh, Monica you’re back. Where is Francis?”
I tried not to sound angry. “She’s still outside.”
“Oh, okay.” Pamela then turned to go meet Francis outside. I shut the bedroom door, turned around and stared right into Stacey’s eyes.
“Get this straight, Stacey. My life is my life and my stuff is my stuff. You don’t see me walking around messing with your things, and you will not…You—Will--NOT mess with mine! Do you understand?”
She continued to give me this frozen look.
“I know you can talk, so you better start moving your lips in the next second. Do you understand!?”
“Yeah, Monica….yeah, I do.”
“Good.”
And we didn’t speak to each other for the rest of the day. She moved to another bedroom, and before you think wrongly of me….yes, a lot of my anger had nothing to do with her. Yes, I probably would have handled it differently if that previous situation didn’t happen. She had no business reading you, but perhaps she did care after all and maybe I should have been nicer. I don’t really know right now. I just know that my vision of the moon is beginning to fade and my dreams are closer than they were before. I’m ready to see what they have to offer.
Good night,
Monica
