Vivienne

tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8052849586858873458.post-91182980891061066952008-07-17T09:03:00.007-04:002008-07-22T13:23:47.391-04:00Vivienne<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IXELecVCw6I/SH_2DGkXjgI/AAAAAAAAEEU/mST7TyWFjfM/s1600-h/090407ab07c.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float:center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IXELecVCw6I/SH_2DGkXjgI/AAAAAAAAEEU/mST7TyWFjfM/s400/090407ab07c.jpg" alt="window curtains" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224164625936256514" border="0" /></a> Vivienne could hide for hours in the dark shadows among the ghosts of night. She never could remember where the habit came from or how it came about. She only knew watching the world from that small corner wakes her mind from the dullness of being. Vivienne's small bedroom has two huge windows with very tall maroon curtains. Whenever midnight comes around, she would turn off all the nights and close the curtains leaving one sliver of opening. Then she would tuck herself under the covers and wait for her father to come say goodnight. He would kiss her forehead and a big smile would spread across his sad face. Then he walks a few steps towards the door, opens it, linger for a moment then turns around and say goodnight again. After he closes the door, when she hears his footsteps fading away, she would prop up her pillows to make a shape of herself and covers them with the thick sheets. Then crawl on her hands and knees towards the curtains, towards the small opening and slip inside the curtain folds. Out there across the street is a five-story apartment building. Through their open windows, she saw others revealing themselves in silent moments, never realizing she was watching them as they strip bare their emotions and fall onto their expensive couches crying bitter tears. Her big eyes would widen absorbing their daily grief. In the second level, a beautiful woman throws up her dinner every night after refusing dessert offered from her husband. Next to her was a young girl who often hides underneath the bed from her stepmother who wants to dress her up in pink clothes when what she really wants was to dress like a boy. Above the girl was a man who had recently shaved off his identity, moved from one level down to this apartment which he had stolen from a woman who seem to have disappeared. But Vivienne knew where she went and she's not happy under all those daisies which she was allergic to. Tonight Vivienne watched as a new tenant - a man with lots of money - watch porn while paying his taxes. His tan face was often in shadows but Vivienne always managed to see his face clearly. As he drew his curtains close, Vivienne watch his sad blue eyes turning away. In the place where she stood, Vivienne saw many things, things that might make others quiver with pity or hatred but not Vivienne. Rather she saw herself mirror in their solitary confinement. She was hiding too. Her secret remains in the darkness where everything can be reveal with one light switch. Many nights of insomnia had not ceased even as the drug she was given had taken over her body. Her mind still sharp, can venture into other people's life without leaving her body or her home. She often hear her father crying through the walls and fights between her parents whenever her mother comes to visit but Vivienne ignores them. Her only reply when ask if she was okay was a nod of her head. She have stopped using her voice to speak. Her big, brown eyes change emotions but never shed any tears even when her parents told her about their divorce, even when her mother moved out with her little brother. Even as her mother's tear-stained lips kissed her cheeks goodbye, Vivienne's eyes remains dry. At birth, she was pronounced dead on arrival. But somehow they managed to pump breath into her. Alive, she wasn't any better. Endless hospital stays, lost childhood days created a hallow in her heart. One that grew bigger each day as her body gets weaker. She could not cry even if she wanted to. It was a condition her doctor said was temporary but somehow ended up being a permanent state. How ironic she was name Vivienne, a name that means life. Having only a few years left in this world, Vivienne wants no part in crying. That is not her. Engross in the lives of others, she is happy. Happy to know there are no happy people in the world. <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://writeanything.wordpress.com/fiction-friday/">Fiction Friday:</a> Pick a character who loves the dark, and tell us why. Avoid the obvious choices: stealth, monsters, sex, and anything else you immediately thought of.lissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00706027242022517570lissa2626@gmail.com