Do You Dare Dream a Dream of Me?

She stands tall, elegant and graceful in her black leotard at the very center of the floor. Music begins to play and she leaps and tumbles to the violent tempo, the notes seemingly tossing her about, as if in control. The audience in the bleachers doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, it doesn’t make even a sound. Perhaps that’s because they're lifeless dolls, mannequins that only begged to be freed from their inescapably plastic existences.

No one notices as red water slowly fills the room, coming up the girl’s ankles as she splashes through it, uncaring, or perhaps just utterly oblivious. 

The desperate cry of a baby booms like thunder through the place and the babe writhes on the lap of a still mannequin. There is no one there to calm it, or shush it, so it continues to wail for the relief that will never come.

The girl pays no mind and flips high into the air before landing on her knees. Her small body falls backwards into the water, now up to her waist, and she lies still for a breath or two. The music fades out like a dream when you awake and she stands, tall and elegant before the motionless audience. The baby continues to scream and fuss. 

No one notices.

The girl walks neatly off the blue performance floor and into the bathroom. She stops in front of the giant mirror and leans her elbows onto a counter made of liquid fire. Her skin blisters, cracks, and peels under the heat’s intensity, but she doesn’t cry out in pain even as the fire boils and sloughs the skin and muscle off her, leaving only bone. The water, up to her shoulders now, gives no mollification, no healing.

She sees that her face is crowded with innumerable white heads as she scrutinizes herself in the mirror. She poises two sharp nails by one, pinching it until it pops, revealing the shiny, pearl head of a pinning needle. Undistressed, she pulls the two inch needle from her face and examines it like a foreign object. Blood begins to drip down from the hole it left. Again and again, she pops the needles from her head and lets them fall down into the flaming liquid until not a trace of them remains. She’s weeping blood now.

The water is way beyond her head, but all the same, she walks back out to the performance floor and finds the bleachers empty, all but for the skeleton of a small infant. 

Where have they gone, she wonders, as her gaze pulls down to her chest to reveal a gaping crater of missing muscle and skin. Five left ribs are snapped off, leaving splintered edges, and a number of unattached arteries hang down like bloody threads over her stomach. 

And where, she wonders, is my heart?

Why Do We Love?

I looked up at the sky tonight and gazed at the moon through a window of wispy gray clouds; it was just a small break, like a crack in time, and a curious thought hit me. I looked confusedly at the almost-full moon and wondered…

Why do we love?

Why do we throw ourselves out on the table and become five times more transparent just for a single soul? A single soul who we don’t know the thoughts of, who we can't know for sure what their motives are, who we can only rely on their words and actions to tell us the truth.

We just have to trust that what they say is true. Trust is the key to the locket of love. Without trust, love is utterly lost.

So again, why? Why do we pour our beings and thoughts and smiles and laughs into a soul who we can only hope trusts us as much as we trust them? And in turn loves us as much as they say?

For some, the reason varies; others just want companionship and the closeness that intimacy brings; others just want someone to always be paying them attention; and sometimes, someone just wants another kind soul to open up to.

But why do we do, still? We crave it, as humans; nearly all of us do. Kudos to those that God calls to be single for life, because I know I couldn’t do it.

So, we as humans are willing to risk everything, our memories, our feelings and emotions, and even our entire selves just to be loved by that one person in return. We invest ourselves so deeply in one relationship that when that dreaded time sometimes comes when the other pulls the plug, it’s like spiraling downwards from cloud nine as if you were a mere rain drop, a small tear to just be shed and brushed away by cold fingers. 

Everything you poured into them was ripped away and you feel like a jagged remainder of what you once were. Your edges are rough and sharp, your emotions and memories shatter you to pieces along with your heart and the mental pain hurts worse than any physical injury.

…why do we risk so much? Perhaps it is because of that tiny little voice in the back of your mind that says, don’t worry, you'll be alright; you're strong, you’re tough, and you will heal with time. It’s okay that sometimes when you fall, you’ve just got to catch yourself, no matter how scraped up your palms get or depths of the gashes in your knees. Then there comes that word again…trust. Trust in yourself, and God, and the people that surround you. Even though you know trusting in anything human is hard because they will always let you down, you continue to anyway because you know you don’t move very fast when you only trust yourself.

Is there really an answer, then? To why we love or why we trust? Not really. Is it just human nature, perhaps? Or a learned behavior? Or maybe something that we all happen to believe?

It’s just life. We love, we trust, we bestow upon each other our faith and hope, even with the preconceived and not entirely unbelievable notion that everything you poured into the individuals may very well have been wasted from the beginning.

Or perhaps, we do all those things because the Father has the grace to do them to us first?

A Shower

So...this is kind of deep, I suppose, in a way. I'm having trouble recalling when exactly I wrote it and why. Or even how I was feeling at that particular moment. Anyway, enjoy. Or ponder. Whichever comes first.

~Vicki

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You step out of your dust ridden clothes and into the beaming spray of hot water. A sigh of relief and finality emanates from you as you run your hands through your knotted hair. The layer of grime you feel on your skin begins to thin as the water runs down your arms and legs and body, taking with it the dirt of the day. But the dirt isn’t the only thing you’re trying to wash away under the steaming water.

The events of that day are coiling themselves in your hair, or even perhaps of days before and beyond. That sick swirling of thoughts in your head will not cease but only for a moment while feeling the beating pressure of the hot water on your back. Somehow it is a pause button on your life.

The dirt packed under your fingernails is the reminder of bitter memories that won't relent. The dirt caked between your toes won't let you utter the words that leave a bad metallic taste in your mouth. It tastes like pennies. 

A scowl overcomes your features as you hastily scrub away the dust clinging to your body and close your eyes at the memories flooding your mind.

Everything always happens too quick, too fast. Regret soon follows. Sadness falls into stride beside it.

And not matter how hard you try, you cannot escape it.

And In One Moment, Love Is Lost

“I wonder what you’ll take from me today
Sanity or just my breath away, it’s hard to say
Impossible for me to tell, we’re always walking on eggshells
Who you’re going to be from day to day today”

I Don’t think I Love You – Hoobastank

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Quietly, so quietly, she slipped on her sandals in the pitch dark foyer. She removed her coat deliberately from the rack by the door and guided her hands through the arms, zipping it up with a slowness a sloth would appreciate.

She took a breath and stepped with the lightness of a ballerina towards the door, reaching out her sweating palm to grasp the handle.

“What are you doing, Anna?” A dark voice came from the sitting room and she nearly froze in the terror that washed over her. She closed her eyes and kept absolutely still.

Footsteps approached her leisurely; she forced herself to keep her eyes shut.

“I asked, what are you doing?” he said again, closer this time, and with a venom that penetrated deep without him even touching her.

She swallowed inaudibly and straightened herself. “Going for a walk.” She avoided his gaze, knowing he was staring at her with those sharp, searching eyes. She hated those eyes.

“A walk, hm? At eleven o’clock at night? After sneaking out of bed and into your shoes, without telling me you were leaving in case something were to happen to you out on this walk at a dangerous time of the night?”

Her gaze locked on the floor. “I should have told you, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to wake you,” she nearly whispered.

“Look at me.” He didn’t say it, but she discerned that he knew the very thing she never wanted him to know. “I said, look at me,” he hissed, gripping her chin harshly and yanking it level with his face. His eyes stabbed through hers, to find the truth that he already knew.

She remained unfeeling beneath his glare.

“What is your destination, Anna? Where are you going?”

Her response was hesitant and she could see that made him angry, his patience burning up with every millisecond that passed.

“There was no destination,” she murmured, attempting to quell the fright rising in her throat. Please, just let me go, she wanted to beg him. Don’t hurt me…just let me go.

“Liar! You were going to see him, weren’t you? Weren’t you?” He shook her as he shouted. She knew his reactions were always ruthless, but she had never seen him as explosive as this.

“No,” she began, but he drew back his hand and slapped her with rage fueled by jealousy and hatred. Her body pitched to the side and she stumbled backwards, throwing out her arms to catch her. “Please, don’t,” she whispered, the urge to cry nearly overwhelming everything in her mind.

“No! You listen to me. You are never to see him again! You are mine, I own you! You're my wife and you will do as I say!” he howled at her, roughly grabbing her wrist to wrench her off the floor. “Stand up!” he screamed. “Stand up and look at me!”

Tears filled her eyes and she willed herself not to let them fall. Her wrist ached under the pressure of his grip, but he didn’t ease up.

“Never are you to go to him again!”

Despite herself and his words, she shook her head. She shook it hard, back and forth, until he launched his palm at her face once more. She caught herself against the wall and made a hasty dash to the front door. He roared and barreled toward her.

“Don’t you dare walk out that door!” His hand snapped out, but all he managed to grip was her earring. Nevertheless, he jerked back inexorably, and her earlobe ripped.

She cried out and cupped her ear as she swung the door open and slammed it shut behind her, running and tripping over the front lawn with a vigor she didn’t know she had.

Anna scrambled over the asphalt and through a neighbor’s yard, turning a corner and throwing herself behind the house. She bolted then, only one thought consuming her mind; she had to get to the only place she felt sanctuary.

Jaren’s arms.

-----------------------------

“Just let me run where I want to run
Just let me love who I want
In a flash a heart is slain
you have to ask in all this pain
Was your heart too soft?
Was your love in vain?”

Love Affair - Copeland

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She rapped on the door hard and it opened almost instantly. Without thinking, she crashed into him and buried her face in his shoulder, the tears already beginning to crawl over her cheeks. It took less than a second for his arms to reach around her and hug her close to him.

“Jaren, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,” she sobbed, clamping her arms tighter around his neck.

“Shh, darling, what's wrong?” He stroked her head and smoothed down her hair before pausing. “My God...what happened to your ear?”

She choked on a sob. “H-he hit me, Jaren, and he ripped my earring out and he knows. Jaren, he knows,” she wailed uncontrollably, futilely trying to keep her crying in hand.

“Oh honey,” he cooed.

Jaren cradled her against his chest and between her whimpers, Anna was telling herself this was all a nightmare, that she would wake up and it would all go away. But she knew wishing it all to disappear was hopeless. She cried harder.

“He's mad, Jaren. He's so mad. I don't know what he'll do. I'm so scared,” she cried softly into his shirt.

“It’s okay honey, it’s alright. Everything will be alright. We can run away, far away to a place he won't even think to look,” he reassured her smoothly, bringing up her face to smile at her. Gently, he kissed the tip of her nose and banished a few tears with the pads of his thumbs. “I love you too much to leave you.”

Her reply was shoving her face into the dip between his shoulder and neck and whimpering, “I love you too, so much.” Anna wrapped her arms tighter around his neck, craving his warmth, his touch, his tender familiarity.

“Anna, we must hurry. Time is not for us. I’ll quickly gather a few of my things and then we will vanish into the night.” He smiled and held her face between his rough hands. “Soon love, very soon we will be free from all this.”

Suddenly the door burst open and an angry roar followed the slam.

-----------------------------

“If I were to die this very moment
I wouldn’t fear
For I’ve never known completeness like being here
Wrapped in the warmth of you
Loving every breath of you”

Gorecki – Lamb

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“Get away from her!”

Anna spun around and in seconds, Mark had the barrel of a gun pointed in Jaren's face.

“Mark, no!” She made to shield Jaren, but Mark gripped her arm and tore her from him, clamping a claiming and unyielding arm around her waist at his side. Anna squirmed desperately, screaming and crying, trying to pry herself loose, but to no avail. “Mark, please, don't do this!” Mark dug his fingers deep into her side and she whimpered against the pain.

“Mark, let's talk about this,” Jaren murmured calmly, holding up his hands in surrender.

“You will never touch her again.” Mark's voice was a low growl as he glared daggers at Jaren. “There really isn't anything else to be said.”

“Jaren I love you, I'm sorry,” Anna cried softly.

“Shut up!” Mark spat down at Anna, making her cower in his grasp.

“I don't think that's necessary,” Jaren murmured defensively, taking a step forward.

“It doesn't matter what you think!” Mark pulled the trigger.

Jaren crumpled to the ground, unmoving.

Anna screamed. She screamed so loud and so violent that her throat seared dry. Tears flew from her eyes as she struggled in desperation against Mark's relentless hold.

“You killed him!” she wailed. Mark began to drag her back through the front door, but she fought for her release. She knew it was dangerous to disobey Mark. She knew it. But right now, she didn't give a damn.

“Jaren!” Her body reacted before she could think. She balled up her fist and socked Mark right in the crotch. He curled in on himself with a howl, his arm loosening. Anna dropped to the ground roughly on her hands and knees and scrambled forward to lean over Jaren. “Jaren,” she choked. “Honey I'm sorry.”

He half smiled up at her, his eyes dreamy and distant. Shakily she knotted her fingers in his and held their clasped hands to her chest. Her bottom lip quivered uncontrollably, as if it were vibrating.

“I love you,” Jaren murmured, dazed. Anna touched her fingers to the gaping hole in his chest, oozing crimson what could only be blood. She bit her lip and clamped her eyes shut against the oncoming tears. “I love you,” Jaren whispered, softer this time.

Mark’s arms came around her waist then, heaving her up and over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Anna’s fingers were pulled from Jaren’s, but she kept her arm reached out to him in a feeble attempt to hold on somehow.

“Goodbye,” she whispered brokenly, fighting the constricting choke of her throat.

“Goodbye,” Jaren’s breath came out like a slowly deflating tire until he could breathe no more.

-----------------------------

“I’m reaching for this life within me
How can one man stop his ending?
I thought of just your face
Relaxed and floated into space…”

Into The Ocean – Blue October

Lazy Afternoon

He lounged back against the arm of the lazy swinging bench, his arms wrapped around the waist of a tall woman. She had slid down in his loose grasp, her head now resting softly on his stomach and her toes nearly falling over the other side of the bench. The boy pulled his knees up, creating a fence on the unsecured side of her torso to prevent her from accidentally rolling off the swing.

She rested her forearm along his thigh and tousled the frayed ends of the worn knees in his jeans with her fingertips. “These jeans are getting old,” she murmured as the wind danced through the leaves above them. Tipping her head back, she stopped when she could see his face.

“So are you,” he replied, smiling down at her. She grinned and let her head fall forward.

“Yeah, but you don’t believe that, do you?”

“Mmm, no.” He kissed the top of her head and she hummed.

The chains supporting the bench creaked and groaned with every swing back and forth, but it was rhythmic and somehow calming instead of irritating. A few blossomed flowers drifted down from the trees, the wind having shaken them loose, and they graced the boy’s black hair. He absently brushed one off, but grabbed the other and held it down in front of her face.

“For you,” he said, and he knew that smile was spreading even before he heard her giggle. She put the flower to her nose and breathed in, murmuring something about it smelling beautiful before reaching back to tuck it into her hair. “Let me.” The boy took it from her and brushed back a few locks of striking auburn hair behind her ear, placing the flower just above the curve. He grinned.

“Can I tell you something?” He whispered, grabbing her hands in his and crossing them over her stomach.

“Mhm,” she hummed in drowsy reply, settling herself into a comfortable position prime for sleep.

“Your ears are pretty,” he whispered, his lips near her ear.

She twisted her head to glance at him, her expression strange and disbelieving.

“What?” He asked, the smile continuing to grace his lips.

“My ears are pretty?”

“That what I just said isn't it?”

“Yeah, but…no one’s ever told me that before.” She turned back around and relaxed against him.

He couldn’t stop grinning to save his life. “Well I am honored to be the first one to do so.” Being silly, he kissed her ear and she laughed, pulling up her shoulders in attempt to shy away.

“You're silly, you know that?” She continued to giggle as he hugged his arms tighter around her.

“Yes, and I love you, you know that?”

Her gaze traveled down to the intertwined fingers of their left hands and the rings glimmered dazzlingly in the sunlight filtering through the leaves. “Yes,” she replied dreamily. “Yes, I do.”

She twisted around in his arms, smiled, and kissed him.

In a Million Years

Never in a million years did I think that one day, I’d be 16, in a foreign country and cooking dinner by myself for 10 people while nannying 6 children who I can't fluently speak with.

I guess a million years has passed, then.

There are a few other things that God has taught and showed me during my stay in Peru, too. They are countless, but these are just a few that jump to mind:

One of the more prominent realizations that He's given me is that I need to cherish friends and family. I need to appreciate my family with every passing day and be extremely grateful that I have such a whole one. He made me realize that I am much luckier than I had thought to have a dad and a mom, to have aunts and uncles, cousins and grandparents that I love and love me in return. Living in Peru has showed me the brokenness that many families have; the dissonance and hate between family members and how much that taxes the entire family. I despise how often I hear about fatherless or divorced families and it hurts my heart to know that so much of that goes on in the world.

God has made it clear that He has given me the family that I have for a reason. And for that, I am so lucky.

God has given me the friendships that I have for specific reasons, too. To put it simply, I am thankful for the caring, supportive friends that I have the privilege to know. And even though time may pass and those friendships may become more distant, I know I will hold onto and never forget the memories that have been shared. I've learned that God puts certain people in your life at certain times for a purpose and that once they fulfill that purpose, they may melt away into the shadows of your mind and although you may not talk to them as often as you once did, those memories will be ever present.

God has tried my patience and dug deep into my emotions, stirring up things I never thought I would feel so strongly about. By seeing the poverty all around me every day; the dirty little faces of children and bowed backs of hard working mothers, He has sparked something within me. Humility. Thankfulness. Open eyes. Trust. Faith. Love. Acceptance.

This time in Peru has rocked my whole world and entire way of thinking. It has been a trial in itself and even though at times I felt like there was never going to be an end in sight or I couldn’t push through, He took my hand and opened my eyes to the side I wasn’t seeing every time.

He's taught me through trials what it really means to hold onto the phrase, “the dark always comes before the light.” There is no doubt in my mind now that although weeping may come at night, joy comes with the morning. (Psalm 30:5) Because of that, I smile.

Now, I'm just awaiting that sunrise.

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Thank you for your love and prayers and support. <3 br="" couldn="" done="" have="" i="" it="" t="" without="" you.="">
~Vicki

Sunrise, or Lack Thereof

It's 5:39 AM. I haven't slept all night.

Not only haven't I slept, but I find myself in the curious position of sitting cross legged on the roof.

As the blanket of darkness begins to lift, the neighbor’s dogs spot me and their robber-sensors go haywire; but the strange thing is that only one voices his opinion about a mysterious shadowed figure climbing onto the roof at five in the morning.

Three roosters crow in what could only be coincidental succession.

I begin to see everything clearer and at first think that perhaps my eyes adjusted to the darkness surrounding me. But then, when I gaze back up at the cloud congested sky, I see that the cracks between them have grown lighter. From that moment on, the spaces between the clouds continue to lighten every second that passes by.

The dog continues make a fuss until Rosa wanders out to the back of her property to see why the hell her dog is barking so persistently. She finally sees me on the roof and her steps turn slow, I watch, staying still, as she pulls something from her pocket. I assume a cell phone and instantly throw up my hand in a friendly greeting. I sit up straighter; she realizes it's me and waves back.

The foothills begin to materialize all around, shaking the mist and fog free from their sands. The blatant odor of fish and salty beach begins to fade, melting away with the night. A faint light covers everything now, in preparation for the sun to arrive.

The constant hum of the Pan-American highway does not cease.

Birds chirrup from left and right, in front and behind, above and below. Some zip past, anxious to begin the day, while others stay safely tucked in their nests, uncertain of what the day will bring.

The orange street lamps begin turning off in a wave, street by street.

The hole in the clouds catches a few rays of morning sunlight, changing the faded blue to a light peach. I become sad once I realize that I won’t be able to see the sun climb over the mountains.

The air is still, but the morning chill still hangs there, motionless. The Peruvian flag does not twitch and the leaves of the trees do not rustle.

The last of the street lamps die out.

I can feel the fabric of my jacket absorbing the morning dampness.

I pick myself up with dirty hands and a dusty rear, my hope shattered and disappointment evident. I hop down off the roof of the patio and slip underneath it, jumping down onto a bucket, out of sight of everyone and everything but myself.

I slap my hands together to rid myself of the grime and murmur unheard apologies to Rosa.

That damn dog is still barking at me.