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Pheonix Falling
Kaitlyn H.
phoe·nix/ˈfēniks/
Noun: (in classical mythology) A unique bird that lived for five or six centuries in the Arabian desert, after this time burning itself on a funeral pyre and rising from the ashes with renewed youth to live through another cycle.
Rebirth.
Laying on a grungy bathroom floor, wrists bloodied, eyes glazed and mind leaving, I was certainly not laughing at God.
Prior to this event, I was spitting in His face. The drugs, the lies and the self abuse was venom that left my lips, and hit Him straight in the face. Maybe I was mad at him for sticking me with a sly-handed-silver-tongued Step-Father. Maybe I was scared because he let my Mother turned a blind eye. Maybe I just forgot about him.
I couldn't help but smirk when I pictured how I felt earlier this night. My arms were bruised from pricking myself with needles from strangers, my hair seemed to fall in the right places and my friends were beside me. This was glamor. I felt like glamor. I suppose all that glitters isn't gold though. And God only knows how everything was glittering.
God knew.
I managed to get into trouble and find myself alone with someone. Through the drugs and the alcohol, my only natural fear of men tried to steer me away from him, away from this empty locked room. His fist found my face, and my face found the floor and his hands found my hair. His dick found my mouth and throughout all of this hide and seek, no one found me. Not a single soul.
He finished with me and I crawled into the bathroom. My eyes were sunken in and red. I couldn't focus. I couldn't breathe. My tears fell silently from my face, and I realized that in all of their elegance and purity, the tears burned tracks of emotion into my face. The rest of me was numb. I snatched something from somewhere, and the rest is history.
I lie here.
A beautiful bird looking for my youth. I had burned myself into ashes and was waiting to be renewed.
I spent my whole life laughing at God. My Mother laughed blissfully through ignorance, and my Step-Father laughed only at the idea of God. Little did we all know, God merely wanted to laugh with us. He just didn't get it. I suppose it wasn't really funny.
There was no laughter coming from my mother as she wrung her hands nervously. She asked Him where her daughter was, but she already knew. God did not laugh, nor did He answer. She understood the consequence of her ignorance.
There was no laughter coming from my Step-Father as he downed another round at the bar. He asked Him why his life was full of sin. God did not laugh, nor did He answer. He knew what ruined his life lie deep within the bottle.
I was certainly not laughing as I closed my eyes. As my pulses slowed and my vision blurred, I welcomed God into my life. I called for God. I prayed as I lie dying that he would let me simply do just that. No matter how hard I prayed the night before for him to let me be, he always reanimated me with the same angst for him the next morning.
Death was neigh, but God was closer. I heard him laugh
Blood pooled around me.
I let God laugh.
The lights dimmed.
He was not laughing at me.
I closed my eyes for good.
He was laughing with me, finally.
phoe·nix/ˈfēniks/
Noun: (in classical mythology) A unique bird that lived for five or six centuries in the Arabian desert, after this time burning itself on a funeral pyre and rising from the ashes with renewed youth to live through another cycle.
Laying on a grungy bathroom floor, wrists bloodied, eyes glazed and mind leaving, I was certainly not laughing at God.
Prior to this event, I was spitting in His face. The drugs, the lies and the self abuse was venom that left my lips, and hit Him straight in the face. Maybe I was mad at him for sticking me with a sly-handed-silver-tongued Step-Father. Maybe I was scared because he let my Mother turned a blind eye. Maybe I just forgot about him.
I couldn't help but smirk when I pictured how I felt earlier this night. My arms were bruised from pricking myself with needles from strangers, my hair seemed to fall in the right places and my friends were beside me. This was glamor. I felt like glamor. I suppose all that glitters isn't gold though. And God only knows how everything was glittering.
God knew.
I managed to get into trouble and find myself alone with someone. Through the drugs and the alcohol, my only natural fear of men tried to steer me away from him, away from this empty locked room. His fist found my face, and my face found the floor and his hands found my hair. His dick found my mouth and throughout all of this hide and seek, no one found me. Not a single soul.
He finished with me and I crawled into the bathroom. My eyes were sunken in and red. I couldn't focus. I couldn't breathe. My tears fell silently from my face, and I realized that in all of their elegance and purity, the tears burned tracks of emotion into my face. The rest of me was numb. I snatched something from somewhere, and the rest is history.
I lie here.
A beautiful bird looking for my youth. I had burned myself into ashes and was waiting to be renewed.
I spent my whole life laughing at God. My Mother laughed blissfully through ignorance, and my Step-Father laughed only at the idea of God. Little did we all know, God merely wanted to laugh with us. He just didn't get it. I suppose it wasn't really funny.
There was no laughter coming from my mother as she wrung her hands nervously. She asked Him where her daughter was, but she already knew. God did not laugh, nor did He answer. She understood the consequence of her ignorance.
There was no laughter coming from my Step-Father as he downed another round at the bar. He asked Him why his life was full of sin. God did not laugh, nor did He answer. He knew what ruined his life lie deep within the bottle.
I was certainly not laughing as I closed my eyes. As my pulses slowed and my vision blurred, I welcomed God into my life. I called for God. I prayed as I lie dying that he would let me simply do just that. No matter how hard I prayed the night before for him to let me be, he always reanimated me with the same angst for him the next morning.
Death was neigh, but God was closer. I heard him laugh
Blood pooled around me.
I let God laugh.
The lights dimmed.
He was not laughing at me.
I closed my eyes for good.
He was laughing with me, finally.
Kaitlyn Harmon
Pheonix Falling
© 2011, Kaitlyn Harmon
kaitlynharmon@live.com
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This story contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.
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