Incognito

Here we are again. That feeling I’ve became so accustomed to, taking a hold of me. For so many years I did great. The same routine, day in and day out. The attentive wife, the adoring mother. But it often feels like there are two sides to me. Is this all i am? Every so often, these urges consume me. Like a moth to the flame. A feeling of something much bigger then me. The night time hours attract me, I am a wolf longing for the moon. Tonight. This night, I will be incognito. I slowly glide my pantyhose up my freshly shaven legs, my black heels peeking at me through the closet. In a way, almost as if they are calling to me. I put them on, and begin to slide my lacey red dress over my head, enjoying the feel of the fabric against my skin. I make my way down the stairs, careful to not wake anyone. As I approach the front door, I become hesitant to meet the door knob with my hand. A sudden pause as I stare blankly ahead of me. My hand reaches for the knob, and I turn it. The wind greets my face, so cool and seductively, and I know. Tonight I will be incognito.

Lilac

Fields of lilac, an endless sea of purple. Skies of blue, as vast as the ocean. The warmth from the sun beaming ever so softly on my face. My arms outstretched gripping at the earth, as it slides through my fingertips. I breathe in the fresh crisp air, inhaling and exhaling as the sun-drenched air escapes my moist lips. A dragonfly lands close by, gripping onto a nearby plant as it sways in the wind. A flock of birds migrate overhead. I close my eyes, and it’s as if I can hear their wings fluttering, like an orchestra, of beautiful proportions. My body begins to melt into the fields of lilac. Like velvet, so nice and smooth. It’s in this moment I know peace.

October darkness

It was a cold October night. Halloween was right around the corner, and the decorations from my neighbors houses swayed back  and fourth in the wind. Our block was always the most decorated and even though night time here seemed like the darkness would consume all the houses, the street lights helped illuminate them just  enough to be able to enjoy them, even after the sun hid away. Halloween has always been my favorite holiday. The time of the year when it’s acceptable to take on an alter ego, and be something or someone else. I’ve never been much of a participator though, more of an onlooker, an observer i guess you could say. My parents had recently left for an out of town meeting and they felt like at the ripe age of 17 I was finally old enough to stay home by myself. Well almost by myself. Except for my year older brother, who was supposed to be supervising but instead found himself sleeping over his girlfriend’s house. I didn’t mind though. I enjoyed the alone time. The midnight hour came about in no time as I flipped through the channels briefly watching the same corny horror movies they played each year. “Time for bed” I whispered to myself as I flicked off the tv and sleepily made my way upstairs to my bedroom. I threw myself onto my bed and let my body be consumed by the fluffy down comforter I always had on my bed even in the summer time. Just as I felt myself drifting off to bed, a sudden noise jerked me awake. The sound of glass breaking. I was instantly paralyzed with fear. I used every ounce of strength I could muster together and hopped out of bed into the nearest closet I had in my bedroom. Quietly shutting the door infront of me, sure to not make a sound. The tight horizontal openings on the closet let me see just enough into my room. I listened, and listened. For noise, of any kind but there was none. My heart beating so ferociously I thought my chest would surely concave into itself. Then, there it was. Footsteps. Slow, heavy footsteps making their way up the stairs. My eyes widening with fear. Drops of sweat  forming on my forehead, rolling Into my eyes. But I couldn’t move to wipe them, so I just stood there. The footsteps finally made their way to the second floor. I could hear them making their way to my room and my body began to tremble uncontrollably. I tried to gain composure but I couldn’t. Whoever was there, was going to find me. From the corner of my eye I saw a black figure standing in  the doorway and my eyes forcibly jerked shut. I didn’t want to see. Maybe if I kept my eyes shut whoever  or whatever it was, would just go away. But I knew I couldn’t keep my eyes shut. So I opened them. It had worked. They were gone. Was I dreaming? I waited a few more minutes and when I felt the coast was clear I cautiously opened the closet door, making my way back to my bed. Then I began to realize this was all my fault. “Too much horror Nancy” you shouldn’t of been watching all that garbage, I said to myself. I began to laugh as I laid back down into bed, about how I had let my imagination take over me. Pulling my comforter up to my chin, and watching the shadows creep against the ceiling, in an almost relaxing way. Then, I felt it. A quick jerk underneath my bed. I leaned over, with half my body on the bed, and my head leaning towards the bottom of the bed. I began to lift the comforter up so I could get a look underneath . The black figure.  It was there. Underneath my bed. We made eye contact, it’s eyes shining, almost illuminated in the night. From one moment to the next I felt a tight grip on my arm. I couldn’t speak. Fear had taken over. I opened my mouth and ever so quietly as if someone would hear me,  “Help me” escaped my lips.

Writers Note : I figured with Halloween right around the corner, it would be fun to write a short story. Horror is definitely my preference in genres and I’m hoping in the future to move from short stories to actual stories! One can only hope:)

Girl uninterrupted

You know that moment, when everything and everyone around you suddenly seems to be moving in slow motion, except for you. Your frozen. All you can do is just stand there observing what is going on around you. Each and every detail, from the little girl with the sandy brown hair, or the lady who brushes past with the pea soup colored jacket. The smell of overpowering perfume, or the couple who walks by hand in hand. Then there’s you. A feeling of misplacement. Does anyone notice those small details about You? Like the way you walk, or the way your eyes shine, even the half smile you greet strangers with. 

Possibly, you feel uninterrupted because you are unnoticed. Silently calling for someone, anyone to notice you. Someone to make you feel like you’ve been interrupted, but in the best of ways.

Impenetrable

Noise. The sound of laughter, and meaningless conversations fill the air.

So many words want to flow from my lips but it’s almost too noisy to talk. So I don’t. Instead I glance across in your direction, our eyes instantly meeting. It seems like I have waited forever for this very moment. My shyness rushes over me and I find myself looking astray. I feel you’re eyes watching me, in return making my body feel as if I am burning inside. My breathing, erratic.
At that very moment, your hand grips mine, firmly but gentle.
A overwhelming feeling floods my body, with a surge of emotions I have never once felt. Guiding me into the fresh night air, I feel a sudden pressure amongst my waist. You’re hands turning me to you, face to face. You pull your body close to mine. How I have longed to kiss your soft lips, and get a taste. I wish to consume you a thousand times, each time more thorough than the last. The warmth from your mouth is euphoria. Everything I have ever wanted or needed is you. The moments i spend with you are impenetrable. Even though we have tried to deny these feelings there is a connection, so strong it almost feels unholy. 

The smoke

My back presses up against the cold concrete wall.

The late night breeze covering my bare skin like a Shawl.
Tilting my head back, watching the smoke from my cigarette disappear into nothingness.
Counting the stars wishing I could be where they are.
My soul as black as the sky, with an inner longing so devine.
The longing to be one with the smoke, disappearing into the night. 

Fate

F a t e : The development of events beyond a person’s control, regarded as determined by a supernatural power”

Do you believe in fate? I know I’ve found myself asking this question on many occasions. When we are born do we already have an invisible layout designed for our lives? Me personally, I do believe in fate. I think every person we meet has a purpose. Whether it’s teaching us what we want, or what we don’t want (which I’ve found happens to me most) Thanks fate!
Send good out and the universe shall repay you, right? I haven’t found this to be true. I think it’s something people say to encourage good things to happen to them. I do however like to do as much good for others as I can, just because it wouldn’t be me if I didn’t. I’m a firm believer in making someone happy, you never know what the littlest gesture may do for someone who is having a bad day. Now this fate, could it be altered or intervened ? Let’s say, kinda like the butterfly effect (One of my favorite movies by the way). It kind of makes you want to sit back and think before you do things. Even the littlest change in an action can have major consequences. Whether you believe in fate, or don’t
I think we all need to live life the same. Be kind. Be humble. Be patient. Be accepting, and most of all be open to accepting things into your life. Sometimes we are so closed off we don’t allow ourselves to just live.

What depression & anxiety REALLY look like

Plans that you cancelled at the last minute even though you KNOW you should go. Overwhelming worry that consumes you all at once for no apparent rhyme or reason. “Am i good enough”? “I know I forgot something, what was it”? Yes, self doubt. The feeling that always comes back, like it’s engraved in your head. “Get up, get up”, you can’t spend all day in bed! Sleep. All you want to do  is SLEEP. People close to you usually respond in one of two ways. The first is they don’t understand you so they make comments like “oh your fine” “Stop making nothing into something” or “You are in charge of the way you feel”. The second way usually may be “You are crazy”! “Get on medication” There is either total minimalizing of you’re feelings, or total maximizing of it. Standing in the supermarket isle, trying to decide between broccoli or carrots to make with tonight’s dinner , with a clenching overwhelming feeling,  making it so hard to pick even over such a small, unimportant thing like a side for dinner. Having a nice conversation with a stranger while out and from one minute to the next you go from talkative and happy, to speechless and uneasy. The feeling of not being grounded, or belonging, or.   being….accepted.

What separates us?

What separates the good people from the bad? Are people born that way or do circumstances alter who we become as adults? Can we take the negatives we experience and turn them into positive outcomes or is the positivity that spews from some merely a mask? One way or another I believe we all wear masks. Some, out of insecurity . Insecurity that has grown inside like an in curable disease. From childhood traumas of not meeting parents expectations to adult failures at relationships, to career choices. What happens if I let my mask fall and others see just how vulnerable I am? How unsure and self hating I am? So instead of the possibility of that, they choose to wear the mask. Now most of the time those who are the insecure ones are actually decent human beings for the most part. The others. Well they choose to wear a mask for self preservation. Without the mask they would lose hold of their reality. The reality they choose to show the world , and the reality they live when no one is watching. Which this brings me to my next point. It’s been said that you are a product of your environment. For example, growing up you have a mother, and a father figure who are supportive and are sure to steer you in the right direction. 9 times out of 10 that pays off. The child grows up to be a productive member of society and then the cycle continues when they have children. Now, on the other hand we have a different child, who is brought up in a violent environment with abuse, parental neglect, and no one to instill proper values and life skills. Most often, that child will get into trouble. From school grades diminishing, to run-ins with the law. By the time they become an adult it’s almost like they are still that child who is lost without guidance. Struggling with hatred, self-worth, and anger.
The brain is wired to what’s “normal”to each individual person. Like the saying goes, what’s normal to the spider is chaos to the fly. One persons reality is another person’s nightmare. I strongly believe childhood abuse plays a great part in the adult life, as it’s been stated many serial killers suffered terrible childhood’s. Most people who have violent tendencies are loaners. They usually Suffer from antisocial behavior. So with that said, this particular person peeked my interest.
Richard kuklinski. He was married with children. All the people who knew him in the neighborhood said he was the dream husband and father. But like I said earlier about wearing a mask for self-preservation, he was one of them. He met his wife when she was only 18, and him being much older I believe he used his manipulative skills to lure her in. Even when she began to express her want and need to be able to be more free and not so controlled, he used physical means to scare her into not leaving. In my opinion, narcissistic men target younger women who are the complete opposite of themselves because that’s how they establish control and dominance. She was sweet and outgoing, and unfortunately for her, her kindness was her weakness when it came to him. He became obsessive and fixated on her, and that lasted until the end. Richard was raised with an alcoholic/abusive father so his childhood was far from ideal. However Richard’s daughters claim he was a wonderful dad. That they nor their mother never wanted for anything. Financially and emotionally he provided what a good father would.
But as they got older they begin to wonder exactly what their dad did for work. However, they never asked. He was later described as one of the most “proficient and prolific” killers in the history of crime. He was a hitman for the seven families of the East Coast mafia. But he was also labeled not only as a hitman, but also as a serial killer. Due to the fact he also killed others, whom he chose to kill for enjoyment and not business related purposes. I think he interest’s me so much because he led the perfect life. No one ever suspected anything from him, and when it came to him being heartless and disregarding other peoples lives, he also had another side to him. The side where he had so much love for his family. Admiration. Kind of like he was two different people in one body. It makes me wonder if everyone has a completely different side to them just waiting to come out. I know sometimes I feel that way about myself. Most of the time I am sweet and thoughtful, while other times I feel angry and resentful. If he was never caught would he have continued to live his life? The life of the perfect husband, father, neighbor? How much do we really know someone if you can live with a monster and never expect them to do the things they do? Smart. Did I mention he was intelligent? The cops called him the iceman. He would freeze his victims to confuse the forensic expert’s. Now I’m no forensic expert, but I know freezing temperatures slow down decomp, hence,throwing off time of death. And that’s pretty smart if I do say so myself. He lived this double life for 20 years undetected before he was finally caught. They charged him with five murders, but since he knew he was never going to get out of prison he later confessed to killing around 250 people. Even in the end, he only showed empathy about the pain he caused his family. He loved his daughters and wife. However I try to look at things from the wife’s point of view. How had she gotten through all those years? He was a wonderful loving husband at times, but there was also abuse and fear that kept her there. 
She said the last time she saw him, he told her you know, you’re such a good person. Always been such a good person. And somehow I feel sorry for him. Crazy I know. I feel sorry for him because she hated him. The only woman who he loved, couldn’t stand him. I wonder if he knew? She later said she wished she would’ve told him she hated him before he died. So I will ask the same question again. What separates us? I guess that there will never be a straightforward answer on why some people choose to feed the bad voices they have in their head, while others choose to ignore it.

Any body there?

Well, I must say browsing casually past most of the blogs here, I am kind of intimidated. Alright I’m lying, I am TOTALLY intimidated. Here I am, just your average mom writing about the various things that rumble around in my head while plenty of other people write about much more important, interesting topics. However, I am not one to back down and I welcome others who share my interests  to have a read, and hopefully enjoy, or get a laugh out of what I have to say.  Possibly even learn something. Because after all, it’s said we all learn something new every day.

Until next time xoxo – Paige