Chapter One
“The Seed is Sowed”
Today is intolerably hot. August in New England offers only the utmost discomfort of humidity and bright blazing sun. The steam is visibly rising off of the debris-covered earth. Looking out my bedroom window on the second floor, everything on the horizon is covered by a thick haze, similar to the last few years of my life.
Regardless of how illuminating the sun is, the inside of this beat-up apartment is dreary. Gloom lingers within the neutral painted walls and matching tile floors. Even the ceiling is the same color of blah. I wonder why it wasn’t painted white. At any rate it is an apartment of my own. No more sleeping on the couch, or during a weed fest, or waking up to screaming kids at an ungodly hour. Now I at least have the peace and quiet of the emptiness that surrounds me in this desolate apartment.
This place is full of nothing but stale air. The couch I own is still in storage, along with my dinette set and TV/VCR. The only piece of furniture settled in is my new bed. The deliverymen assembled the frame when they brought it up. In my condition I am prohibited from moving heavy objects.
Being incapable is not a fact I am willing to accept, but compromising with limitations will suffice. It is a foreign concept for me to be dependent on another, and that will prove to be a major obstacle to overcome. To make matters worse, my radio is one of my belongings locked up in storage. Music is my portable sanctuary. In this newfound silence I collect myself on the edge of my bed and stare at my trash barrel full of clothing that seems to shrink by the day.
On second thought, I might just miss the chaos and disorder from my lovely couch-stead! Haunting thoughts begin to clamor in my brain. They scream at me, making up for lost time, trying to clarify the circumstances that have led me here. How on earth did this party-girl Jezebel wind up suppressed, depressed, and slowly inflating? How the hell did I get myself into a situation where I have to face the responsibilities of being single and pregnant? What am I going to do now?
Sitting with legs crossed at the edge of my new bed, an elbow resting on each knee, I can’t ignore the excruciating pain inside my skull. Tremendous surges of electricity form “Ys” and flash fiercely through my room, zapping my brain. I rub my skin long and hard, putting pressure into my eye sockets with my fingertips and pulling my cheeks down as my hands slowly fall back into my lap. I take a second to catch my breath and regain clear vision. Looking out of the bedroom window the sun rays penetrate my pupils like laser beams aggravating the agony behind. My hands automatically rush back to my face. Exhaling a sigh, I see the blue Joe Boxer shorts and boring, black ribbed tank top. Is this the best I can do?
The Sound of Silence
Screaming ideas and yelling the facts
The sound of silence, it always attacks
Not an outside voice or songs of a bird
No twinkling stars could so be heard