Author Archives: Jessie

I’ve just bought myself a new dress. It’s dark green with a velvet texture hugging at my sides. It ends little above my knees. “What do you think?” It’s a question I pose as my dad looks softly at the picture of me in it. I can see his brows turn upward in a slight curve as his eyes slim with endearment. His mouth looked stern as he spoke “It looks…nice, you look very pretty..” the tone was soft yet sad and following after was a give at his chest, a rest in the shoulders, as he let out a sigh. “The” sigh. 

It’s the same sigh he’s been giving me for the past few years. When I got my license, went on my first date, or really anytime he lets me go out with my boyfriend. It’s the same sigh, same face, same gestures. It’s the kind of sigh that lets you know he understands you’re growing up and sooner than he’d like he’s gonna have to give you away, whether that’s to the world or whenever you get married he knows it’s starting to get close. His little girl is growing up, she doesn’t have to ask her daddy to peel oranges for her anymore or carry her on his shoulders so she can see. She doesn’t have to hold his hand when she crosses the road. Those days of being so little she could walk on his back as a massage are over. She may not have grown much height wise but you can see in her face the way she’s aged though the baby he’s held still lingers behind. She’s not done growing, not yet, but she’s getting there and that’s both something he’s proud of and sad to think about. 

I remember when I was little sometimes in the morning he’d come cuddle with me. Such a small moment in time was so nice for me. He’d walk in trying to wake me up but lay with me instead. Just a few minutes, just a few more minutes one of us would say. He called me his little girl and he still does today but it’s a little different now I suppose. He used to come tuck me in every night. He’d kiss my forehead and say goodnight. I remember the first time I went to bed without that, when he told me I was getting too old for that now and it was time to go to bed on my own. I didn’t object really but it felt so odd going up those stairs by myself lying in my sheets without a word to help me sleep. 

I remember when I’d go school shopping with my dad. He’d always try to get me to wear some frilly shirt that was pink which I’d respond to by staring at it in disgust. He usually got the message but still made me try them on anyway. Even now though most of my shopping is done on my own he still tries to show me some ugly shirt every once and while that looks like something for a 40 year old business lady instead of a 17 year old teen. 

So many memories with this man and he has even more of me. He’s raised me to become who I am even when he had so much going on with work and his sick wife he gave me what I needed. He spent time with me. Mario kart was our favorite. He made sure I understood why I was being punished instead of just yelling at me. He always reminded me he loved me more than anything and that he would do anything for me.  He had so much on his shoulders, so much grief and yet he joked with me, loved me, took care of me, taught me, he learned to do makeup and hair just so I could go to my dance competitions. He took on the role of mother and father for me. 

It wasn’t perfect but man did he do a good job. It wasn’t just me either, he had a son as well. He took care of two kids and a dying wife. With a father like that how could I not admire and love him more than anyone else. Seeing him watch me grow up I know it hurts but I’m so proud to be his daughter. So when he sighs that sigh of his I can only think about how much I love this man and how much I know he loves me. Good job dad, you’ll always be my number one even if I joke otherwise.

It’s a chilly evening as I walk with you down a busier area than I’m used to. The only warmth accompanying me is your hand in mine. We walk across the street as the cars waiting stare at us with bright eyes. The shop isn’t far from where I parked that white Corolla of mine. The one you worry I might crash in because of how much I speed sometimes. The same one we kiss in almost every day when I have to leave you.

 This shop we’re headed to is one I’ve been to before but only ever with you. I know the layout by now. When you first walk in there’s a rack of CDs, usually on sale for a good price. There are some movies stuck in some boxes facing the wrong way so you can’t read the titles unless you turn your head upside down. If you keep going down the same aisle you find records of disco and rap. On the right wall are records from artists in alphabetical order with letter tags to help you find who you’re looking for. In the middle is a table with records usually for the cheapest prices from musicals or people you’ve never heard of. There’s a downstairs with a bunch of old figurines from what looks like the 2000’s but I could be wrong. You’ve always been better at knowing the dates of things.

 I’ll wander through the rest of the store while you flip through every record and CD. The music playing isn’t memorable but I’ll dance to it anyways. It’s funny how before you I would’ve never known this place even existed. Now I can remember the Beatles bomber jacket hanging by the stairs and know the owner is the one who made all the wood carvings that are around, which if you didn’t know would make little sense to be sold at a record shop. It’s a calm environment. The shops not that big but it’s charming. There’s no distinctive smell aside from old parchment the records have been kept in. 

My favorite time at this store was when there was a band playing. I remember you bopping your head and telling me the singer was actually pretty good and a few minutes later saying he messed up, it made me laugh. You know so much about this stuff. Being here is like visiting a place in your mind. You know the dates of important moments for music and names of more artists than I could name people in general. I remember as that band played you danced with me, swinging back and forth, pulling my hand up so I’d spin underneath. I remember you had actually carried me to the record store that day when I teasingly said you couldn’t even pick me up. For me, that day was truly something else. It was a fantasy, something made up in my head that became reality. With you everything seems a little better and in that store I find myself completely calm and full of infatuation for you. Because this store is you, it’s what you love and what I’m learning to love. With every date we go on and every song you show me I learn more about music and about you. It’s an experience I could never give up.

[WARNING!! VENT POST WITH STRONG LANGUAGE!!]

There’s a nail on my forehead

I’m holding it there with one hand, a hammer in my other

The nail wiggles every day and my arm itches to hold the hammer down

Keep one balanced, the other in place

I can’t stop the hammer from trying to hit its mark

I can’t help the nails unbalance

But I try and try and try

Until my arm gets too weak and the hammer inches up

I need to stop it

Why is my hand so weak?

HIT

The hammer meets its mark

Its small but enough to make me bleed.

Little taps keep putting the nail deeper.

Why is the hammer doing this?

Why am I doing this to myself?

HIT

stuck in my mind, the thoughts, the nail gets deeper and deeper with each clash of the metal.

HIT

HIT

HIT

What do you want from me?

KILL ME ALREADY

YOU FUCKING HAMMER

LEAVE ME ALONE

GET THIS NAIL OUT

MAKE THE BLOOD STOP

THESE TEARS ARE USELESS

MY BODY IS USELESS

MY MIND IS USELESS

it can’t even defend itself

This nail drills into me

And my brain

Just.

Sits.

There.

What the hell is wrong with me

This back and forth struggle between me and this hammer is so tiresome

Sometimes I wish that hammer would hit so hard the nail would go straight through my skull just so it would stop chipping at me

So it would finally stop

Yet here I am

Praying for my arm to get stronger

Hoping I grow bigger

Wishing my mind gets smarter

I don’t want to be gone

I want to defeat anything that touches me

That hammer,

That nail,

Can Fuck Off.

By: Nicole Aguero 

Drip

Drip

Drop

Gentle tears stream down my face. My body’s overcome with a quaking I can’t handle. Everything’s nothing and nothing is everything. So much to say, to confess in this situation yet words feel like vomit I have to force out. I don’t want to disappoint her, I want her to know I’m alright even when I’m clearly not. It’s not her fault, please know it’s not. Looking up at her, she only smiles and places her hand on my cheek helping my heavy head raise to see her fully. Before I do or say anything she speaks in words of angelic behavior 

“ I already know” 

The knot in my chest unravels as I let my tears go free sopping into the embrace she holds me in. No words needed to escape while scraping my throat for her to know. And for those moments lying there I confess in my mind to her, everything. 

I’m not doing well. Everything seems…scary, intimidating. I tell myself the future is worth it, I have so much to look forward to even though I have no idea how the future will play out. I have thoughts that I don’t like and wish I didn’t have. I’ve said things I regret. Sometimes the only thing I feel I can do is pray to a god I don’t even know is listening. My trust is blind yet I don’t regret it. I’d do anything for you. 

She looks at me having heard every thought. 

It’s okay, everything’s okay. There’s no hate. She’s right here. She tells me without a movement from her mouth “you’re an angel, but it’s not your time to fly now. There are reasons for living. You’ll soar one day but hold on for me and live. You’ve been doing such a good job, keeping on so strongly. Even when on the thinnest of strings you have balanced.” 

Her warmth is unparalleled, voice soothing to my ears like a soft piano playing with harps, gaze like no other, her pupils filled black shining with stars of an unknown world to me, no mold in sight, and her skin glows, body as light as air though somehow able to hold me. The bags I remember hanging on her face are gone, the ratted bun on her head replaced by locks of healthy brown hair.

 Tears aren’t enough in this situation, no human expression is enough whether words or physical to fully envelope how I feel. The word feel itself seems lackluster. A gift from something higher than even god to be here, to hear her, have her hold me like this. The fear of failure and disappointment fades from her own light. 

Ethereal. 

The only word worthy to describe her is “ethereal. ”

All judgment and sin has been stripped of her being and even in my own filth of mistakes there is beauty felt just by being by her as if even though she is so much higher she can make you feel perfectly acceptable in her company. To hold on, to live for her is a promise I make to both of us. She had no choice. I do. The knowledge that if I made the opposite choice could potentially let me see her has tempted me on several occasions but if she asks, if she holds my face, tears of gold streaming, I can’t possibly be selfish enough to do such an action. No matter the pain, mistakes, or dread I will find the leftover beauty she has left for me here. 

With this I hold in the depths of my heart scorching a new principle of promise. For her, anything. For the woman who brought me here, anything. 

This place where I meet her is a blessing. Her acceptance of me gives peace like no other. A confirmation I’m doing alright. I don’t need to worry, my life is what I will make it, I can only walk down my road until it stops. The rocks in my way are something I must step over for at the end she’ll be waiting. I know she will be there, Charlie next to her and whoever else is waiting.

 Is it foolish to think that? 

Foolish to pledge loyalty to something that could lead me somewhere so much more than what I have here which is already so much? Whether real or not I’ll take my chances rather than seeing only what’s here now. 

Illusion, dream, hallucination, reality,

My mom tells me she loves me one last time.

And that’s all I really need.

Hello. 

My name is….Caspian 

Lately, I haven’t felt like myself. I look around slowly examining each wall plastered in chipped old paint. My family is gathered at the table smiling at one another all beaming like little stars in the galaxy that is my home. Breakfast looks sweet and warm as usual. My mother greets me from the kitchen where she’s been working to give us a good meal. Everything is as happy and normal as always, except for me. The warmth of this scene dissipates instantly against my cold skin, it doesn’t touch me. The food tastes like something completely different yet familiar to me. 

“Mom, what is this?” I ask with barely enough of a tone for it to qualify as a question and not just a statement. 

“Your breakfast sweetheart” she replies softly, eyes not moving as she continually drags a rag over each dish smothering it in soap, cleansing it of the leftover gunk on it. 

“Why does it taste so weird”

“Well that’s not very kind of you to say” her eyes were still on the dishes, her voice normal.

“It’s just-” 

“Enough. If you don’t want it you can go to your room and eat the bugs stuck to your filthy mattress you complete failure of a child. I never wanted you in the first place. Do you really think-”

I ate the rest of my breakfast, my dad was still finishing up the dishes as me and my mom ate together. 

Well after the time for eating breakfast was over I realized my brother never came down, in fact I don’t think I’ve seen him in a while. 

“Where is-”

“Where’s Lily?” I asked my mother but she had little response, only walking towards a corner, sitting down and hugging her knees, clawing into the fabric of her dress. She must be having one of her moments again. 

Not to matter, I’m sure he’s just off at his friends house as usual. He doesn’t really like it here I guess. Maybe I’m not the only one who’s been feeling off lately, maybe that’s why I haven’t seen him in a while. If I had somewhere to run off to I’d probably be gone for days as well. I wonder what things he’s feeling right now. I wonder if he’s having the same problems as me. My minds been hazy, eyes heavy yet they won’t close, body aching sore specifically in  my left arm, and most of all, I can’t remember the last time I saw an actual color.  

Oh well, no time to think about that, I need to sleep, it’s far past my bedtime. All I need to do is close my eyes, not focus on anything and dream. I need to dream, have my mind conjure up a new world, a better world, one where I can see again. 

Thump…..thump

Someone’s awake, they shouldn’t be awake. I slip off my covers and walk towards my door. The sound is behind my door- The sound is coming from the hallway. My door screeches as I expose myself to the darkness of my hallway. The sound changes as I get closer, it’s not thumping anymore, it’s not hurting itself anymore. I hear words coming from the room it’s hidden in. 

“I’ll fix you…I promise”

I have to fix her. She’s not being normal, normal moms don’t eat their children and serve them as a meal. What a horrible woman, once I bless her with freedom she will be fixed, she will be the god’s project. 

Finally, I can finally see color. A simple swing and crush of her ribcage is all it took to finally get some color. I needed that color, I needed to see. It would be so easy to open her up and be able to surround myself in it. I could cover my whole body in it. I was so happy. The only color I would ever need in my life is right here, spread across the floor. 

I guess it’s time for lunch. Too bad mom has been sheltering herself in her room for the past few days, I made such a lovely meal for all of us. Oh well, at least I have my dad. He’s been getting ready for the past few hours to go out and look for my sister. When he comes down he asks 

“well, how do I look?”

“Hmm… fine, but I think you’d look much better covered in red”

So many people think living isn’t worth it in the end. Everyday has a challenge, whether it’s confronting someone, a test, work, getting up early, or sometimes getting up at all. Our world has so many problems, everyone has so many problems. Sometimes it feels like you never get a break. ” Why should I keep going if all I feel is pain? Everything in life just goes to shit. I’m always messing up, why even try? Why continue?”

Sometimes our hate for things around us turns into hate for ourselves. We look around and see everyone else living with problems happily. They have friends, dreams, hope, aspirations. You compare them to yourself, someone who has no idea where they’re going or what they want to do. “I don’t even know what to do with my life right now…”

It gets worse, the comparison. You notice everyone else more and more until you only have yourself to look at. What you see is worthless, you’re not talented, nor special, just normal, below normal, what’s wrong with you? 

“What’s wrong with me?”

You hate it, you hate yourself. You wish you were better, you wish you were special, you wish you could stop messing up, all you want is to feel okay again. It’s not just the comparison, it’s the mallet you bring down on yourself. Nothing is enough for you and when nothing is enough you don’t want to do anything anymore. Why should you? 

“It’s not worth it” 

You become used to this state of numbness. You don’t care about anything. Nothing is worth caring about. Life feels grey, it isn’t bad when you’re not thinking about it, it’s just empty. It’s empty until midnight. You’re still awake, you can’t sleep, when you try to sleep you stare at the dark abise around you thinking. You lay there thinking for hours until you think so much you make yourself cry. 

“It’s so quiet at night” 

Telling someone doesn’t help either. Everyone’s response is the same. They all try to comfort you yet you feel no warmth. They’re trying their best but you can’t hear them, their words are muted. Still, you try to hear them to give you any form of comfort. You’re trying so hard. Why can’t you hear them? 

“Life is amazing, it gets better I promise” 

Those words, the same talk about there being something more, how do they know? How are they happy right now without those things and I’m not? I’m angry, I’m upset, I’m nothing. Why am I nothing? 

“I should just disappear”

Stop. Those thoughts, those actions, those sleepless nights, it’s normal I promise. All of this is so much more common than you realize. I know you can’t see your value right now but I value you. It’s not about the future, it’s not about the past, it’s about right now. Right now I want you to look at me and promise not to make any rash decisions. Life is always going to be imperfect and there are always going to be problems in your path but that’s part of the journey. I know you’ve heard it all before, I know it all sounds the same, naive thinking, I just wish I could make you understand those words the same way I do. All of this is so different to me than it is to you but you’re so special in my eyes. The way you see me is how I see you. Words don’t have the ability to heal you, I don’t know how I can use them to help you feel what I feel but I’m trying. 

Just please don’t go.

I remember my favorite compliment you ever gave me. We were sitting in the computer lab surrounded by the sound of clicking keyboards and outward chatter. For everyone around us it was a class period that was most likely forgotten, but in the corner where we sat I could feel my mind racing. I had finally opened up to you, I let you hold my heart in your hand as my mouth like a recorded message repeated all the struggling thoughts inside my mind. Once I finished my body felt empty and as I looked at your hand where my missing piece lay I waited to see if you’d crush or nurture it. You held it softly but your face was confused, you didn’t want to hurt me but you didn’t know how to address this. Still, you sat there coddling my heart listening to me cry without tears. None fell but my eyes were glossed, tears only moments from dripping out like bubbles waiting to be given air to finally be free. Then, at that moment while I stared down hazy minded holding myself together you said to me, “you look pretty when you cry”. This statement, though unsettling to some and even to me at that moment who gave a laugh and questioned you, is a compliment I often remember. So weird, yet I found it interesting and almost romantic. In my most dejected state, when my hair falls like curtains, hiding my face. When my fingers curl into fists, my nails digging into my palms in hopes I’ll focus on the pain and not my fear at that moment. When my teeth sink into my bottom lip, and my shoulders tense, you find me beautiful? It made me laugh, you don’t really know how to compliment people yet it’s sweet you still try. Thank you, for your weird compliment. This one I enjoy.

I don’t hate you

You weren’t terrible

You weren’t abusive

You aren’t a bad person 

You’re nothing 

We had nothing 

We were nothing

There was never romance, there were never hugs, never kisses, 

nothing was ever done.

I never felt your hand or shared my thoughts because whenever I tried you backed me off. 

I never felt happy, only alone. I wanted something but you’re nothing at all. 

I ended things for many reasons, you were unkind, uncaring, did I mean nothing to you?

I tried to speak but was silenced by your indifference 

I tried to touch you but you ran away

I wanted to spend time with you but you were always busy.

I told you how great you were, how smart and amazing to be able to go through the conflicts that you have. 

You tell me i’m dumb

You tell me i’m lazy

You always complain that i’m too egotistical 

You never listen to what I’m trying to say 

You make me feel miserable and like everything’s my fault 

All i want is a break can’t you even give me that?

Everyone has expectations of me I thought you would be different 

Why do you get mad at me? Why do I have to feel bad? Why is it always my fault? 

Shouldn’t I feel justified whenever I leave you? Shouldn’t I feel good about degrading your accomplishments? 

Shouldn’t I be allowed to hate you? 

Why do I still try so hard not to upset you? Don’t I deserve to hurt you? I want you to feel pain but anytime I cause it I make it go away. I don’t know which is right, am I being a bigger person or someone who’s naive?

You’re my best friend and I would never want to cause you pain. 

I don’t get why you don’t feel the same.

I knew this would be difficult 

I knew this would be hard

I knew things could get complicated with how cynical you are. 

I believed we would work out and even if we didn’t that there’d be memories I could treasure.

All I’ve ever wanted is for someone to care and to show it. 

I’m sorry this is dramatic but I never get to speak

All my words are hidden underneath 

You say i’m loud so why does it feel so foreign when I finally get to scream?

Why do I shake when I speak openly about anything?

Why can’t I talk about certain things?

Why do I cry until I’m shaking 

Why don’t I ever say a word?

But you don’t care

You don’t want to listen

I have so much to say but you’ll never listen.

You’re weak 

You’re dumb

You’re horrible

But you never could’ve known.

I didn’t voice my problems, I didn’t push them enough, I should’ve sat you down and told you everything whether you liked it or not. I should’ve told you I needed you to listen. You never knew how important that was for me.

I’m weak

I’m dumb

I’m horrible

I know those things are true to a point 

I hate it, but I accept it.

I know I’m not all bad and neither are you 

I just wish this grudge and sadness would let go

I don’t think about us very often and my heart doesn’t sting but I’ll always still have those painful memories

Every Time you annoy me whether so small or so big I can’t help but recall all the bad that we had

You weren’t ready for a relationship, that, I can understand but, I wish you still tried so I wouldn’t be so unsatisfied

All I ever wanted was someone who cared

Someone who showed it and helped when I’m scared 

Someone who supported me that I could help grow 

It wouldn’t have to last forever until death 

All that I want is a partner and a friend.

The breeze finally starts flowing in and green leaves crumple into dust; I can feel myself smile, a smile that’s plastered on my face year after year always returning. Holidays have always been such a treat yet I forget how meaningful they are; I take them for granted even though they only happen once a year. But this time around I feel really excited. I can’t wait until pumpkins are lined up on each dry desolate porch and stiff skeletons are hanging off trees. For me this time of year is special. Memories flow back to me like a river to the ocean, smoothly picking up small details, and adding them into a bigger picture. I love all the bad costumes overpriced as they are. Even all of my weird costumes that no one understood. 

Every year I had the hardest time deciding what kind of freak I was going to dress up as. I never liked being something basic, “I wasn’t like other girls *tucks hair behind ear* “. Because of this I ended up having a lot of weird costumes. I mean I had some normal costumes like  the classic pumpkin baby that almost every mom had their kid do when they were 1. I also went as Disney princesses but, as I got older my costumes took a bit of a turn. One year I decided to be a flipping raccoon and the next I was Wednesday Addams; but the weirdest and frankly most regretted costume I ever had was the year I decided to be a character from a minecraft roleplay series. The character’s name was Kawaii~chan. She was on a youtubers channel called Aphmau. In case you couldn’t tell this wasn’t one of my proudest moments. In general I was a pretty weird kid. I think because I’m so “quirky” and just “different”, Halloween is my favorite holiday. Halloween is all about the freaks. I mean we literally celebrate killers and dress up as them to get candy knocking on strangers doors. Or We’re basically homeless furries depending on what you’re wearing. Kinda weird if you ask me, but I love it! Who doesn’t love murder am I right? Though I did always wonder why some people would choose to be a color for halloween. If you know what I mean they would wear those full body, one color suits that would even cover your face. Don’t know how they breathed but whatever. 

Anyways, getting back on topic when I was young I was very fascinated by deranged subjects such as death. I would wonder about the afterlife and question my parents on it to the point my grandma was worried something was wrong with me. My dad just thought it was cute and harmless and I mean I guess I turned out alright so it’s all good. However, I do have a creepy story from when I was a kid that I find pretty funny now. 

One day, when I was around 6 years old, if I had to guess, I went up to my dad about my favorite stuffed bear and asked him 

“ Dad, does Protector Bear have a soul?” 

Curiously and a little freaked out he of course replied “no, he doesn’t” 

“ Oh good cause if he did then I’d have to have my brother kill him when I die so he goes to heaven with me”. 

Definitely a story that gets me a few wide eyes and worried faces but I often can’t help but laugh when I tell it or at the very least find it funny in my head. I like to think that story connects with my love of Wednesday Addams. My first time seeing the Addams Family I knew right away that I was going to be Wednesday Addams for halloween. She was perfect and I honestly idolized her as a kid. I thought she was the coolest person ever. 

Now, my love for halloween doesn’t just stem from weird memories and even weirder costumes. It mainly comes from my cousin Hailey who’s always been my best friend. Every year we would go trick or treating together. I remember our last year of trick or treating together. We would take turns taking all of the candy from bowls. I remember Hailey talking to me saying,

“ Frick them kids this is our last trick or treating sesh (session) and we’re gonna make it count!! NOW MUSH TO THE NEXT HOUSE” 

Those are wise words that always stuck with me. That year we got so much candy the pillowcase I had carrying all of it nearly dragged across the floor. These days Hailey lives out in Florida, but because of that I really treasure what we had when we were younger and she’s the reason halloween is my favorite holiday. I’m gonna miss her this year but I’m glad I got so many years in the past with her. Halloween will forever and always be our holiday.