2~ Desire A Society

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"If we desire a society of peace, then we cannot achieve such a society through violence. If we desire a society without discrimination, then we must not discriminate against anyone in the process of building this society. If we desire a society that is democratic, then democracy must become a means as well as an end."

~ Bayard Rustin

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Jenna didn't have a car; she did once, it was an old beamer that her dad got her as a graduation gift. But after her first year at university, a couple of frat boys she'd turned down decided it would be funny to total her car in a revenge play. She couldn't afford the insurance, so since then, she'd been forced to walk, bike, and cab everywhere she went. She didn't mind though, she figured this way she'd be a good global citizen and lower her carbon footprint.

After Quentin left for the arcade and Jake was called to the station, she grabbed her bike and went to pay her dad a visit. Since she'd moved out, he had decided that he was going to remake her room into a den for himself. The was easier said than done, though, since he was in a wheelchair. 

When she arrived at the property, there was already a big U-Haul parked in the driveway, movers no doubt. She saw the old nightstand she had sitting on the lawn, along with an emptied bookcase and a taped rack of hangers. She dropped her bike beneath the window sill and went inside.

"Dad?" she called. The smell of fresh paint and shaved wood wafted through the house, making her nose crinkle. She never liked the smell of houser's paint.

"Up here, Baby!" he called back. Jenna jogged up the stairs, passing the chair lift they'd installed after her dad's injury. As she got to the top, she nearly knocked into a mover who was carrying down her old beaten mattress. She remembered many of the sleepless nights she'd spend sitting on her bed, wearing out the stuffing while she worked perilously into the night for school; or the countless girl talks she'd have with her mother.

She found her dad in her old bedroom, the floor was covered in white plastic sheets as the room was readied for the painters. Peter Desmond sat in the middle of the room, looking around as his daughter's sanctuary began to dwindle away into nothing but memories. 

"Hey Dad," she smiled as she walked in. Peter looked up at her and smiled.

"Hey there, Sweetheart. What do you think so far?" he asked her. Jenna looked around the room, not quite getting what she was supposed to be looking at. The pale pink walls were barren now with the outlines of washed-out sun stains from where her old photographs would hang. All that was left of her bed was the old framed installed over twenty years ago, and there were black pen marks scribbled along sections of the wall, all in a code that Jenna couldn't understand.

"It's uh... it's nice, I guess," she said. 

"Well, this is only the starting phase, Jen. I'm going to put a TV against the wall there, and I'll have one of those big reclining chairs over here, so I can watch the Superbowl in comfort. And over here, I'll put in a shadowbox for some old medals and such," he seemed so excited,a that made Jenna so happy. She couldn't remember when her dad was so excited about any big change in his life.

"That sounds great," she smiled, "Are you sure you got the money for all this?" she asked.

"Yeah, yeah. A lot of it's coming out of the insurance, and the other half's coming from twenty years worth of pension checks," he replied. 

"Well, I'm glad you're happy, Dad," she chuckled back.

"I'm thinking about getting a dog, too. Maybe a beagle, or a jack russell. Your mother always loved the little dogs," he said.

Dissociative Psyche ✦ J. Riley | ✓ [book 2]Where stories live. Discover now