My Name is Raquel [Editing From Scratch]

Chapter 1

Note to new readers: The book will mostly rely on flashbacks, therefore, when there is a wide space between a paragraph and the other know that this means that it is either back in the present or the past. You can easily figure that out when you notice the past tense.

My name is Raquel, and this is My Story.

August 18 2014, 5:25 in the afternoon.

   I was sitting at the edge of my king size California bed, that I share with my husband Darin, with dim lights spreading with a dark golden color across the room, where I was flipping through my senior pictures from college and high school, when my husband walked into our room, planting a kiss on my forehead.

   "Happy 28th birthday, sweetheart," he says.

   "Don't," I snap at him.

   I immediately shed my vision to an old antique portrait made by my mother, it goes back in time to when I was born or earlier before. It's a picture of a prince with his beloved, staring at the sunset as they lay across the ocean, calling it off for the night. The brass color on the edges of the frame, which were fading in time, is dimming its colors into what seems to be brass-bronze.

   "Raquel, it is your birthday. You need to get out at some point." I sigh fiercely. I really don't want to go out, and by out he means to my folks home.

"It's fine, I'll just stay here, Dare, and-"

He cuts me off, saying: "And rebuild the memories you left behind?"

Yes.

"No, lie down, or finish reading A Tale of Two Cities," I lie.

  He stares at me with a frown building up on his face, and I watch his lips part in order for him to speak. "Suit yourself. I'm going to Greg's house," he says before leaving me alone with my thoughts.

  I continue looking at the pictures until one captures my attention and opens up all my wounds. 'The Rolling stones Tue Aug. 19 2003!!' is written on its back. That was my first concert ever for the Rolling Stones, where I was madly in love with them back in my crazy hormonal phase. 

I had just turned 17 that summer, and my best friend decided to take us all the way to Amsterdam: where the concert set its ground in. It was huge - around 30,000 people or more attended - I can't remember it actually. It seems like a millennium or so. I still recall the first night I had my first drink in, which happens to be that night of course. I was oblivious, and I when it came to living life itself my parents were very religious - sadly.

 "No boyfriends until you're 18, Raquel! No drinking under age or God will close the heaven doors in your face. Don't wear skirts that are shorter than your knees. and no jeans! Because they will detail your body parts, besides! Who knows what guys might think when you walk by them, young lady.' Mother used to- oh, well- preach.

 Every day was a Sunday for them. They always wore the finest suits and clothing. They had their fabric imported all the way from Egypt. 'You don't have to be a queen to order Egyptian cotton. It is the finest and the best.' Again with the motherly lecture.

 

Aug. 19 2003 - Amsterdam Arena -Amsterdam: The Netherlands.

   "Oh my God, we are actually here!" My previous childhood friend, Mandy, squealed, in which she was wearing her favorite black fabric shirt that says "The Rolling Stones" in red.

   "If mother saw you wearing, this she would say: 'Red is the color of the devil'." I laughed as I pointed at her shirt, having no regrets of what came out of my mouth. As much as I've loved my mother, she was never open-minded. It was ironic actually; I was a prisoner in my own house.

   "Speaking of your mother," Greg imposed, "how did she let you come along with us? We both know she adores us." He snored as he rolled his eyes, making the most obnoxious sounds you could ever imagine: as if he was a spoiled queen with a bad throat.

   "She did not." I laughed; their faces went all pale as they grabbed their Orange Vodka drinks in their hands. One of them actually choked.

   "Raquel Krouse, did you just indirectly say that you snuck out?" Mandy spat her drink back into the cup. I could not believe myself, and it did not seem that bad when I was thinking of it.

   "Well . . . It is my 17th birthday, and we all know she would have said no, so . . ." I hesitated for a while before proceeding. "You really do know that you're making me have second thoughts about this?" I defended myself, somehow.

   "No, actually. I, no, we are very proud of you!" Greg cheered as he wrapped one of his arms around my shoulders while his other hand was grabbing the Vodka bottle. Brushing the subject afar, I laughed a little because I didn't want to open it up, at least not that night.

    Honestly, with all the noise and the carbon dioxide traffic in the atmosphere, I could not help but sweat as my lungs begged for clean air - after all, invading my personal bubbles was not much for my liking.

    "Cool shirt." A stranger nodded at me, pointing at the shirt I was wearing. It was more of a hipster kind-of-look, but it says "The Rolling Stones" on it. It was a gift from Mandy, in which she knew I loved both: The band and the funky hipster sort-of-looks

    'Don't bring these music into my house, they're the devil worshipers.' Unfortunately, only my mother would have judged music she didn't even know other than Christmas Carols

    "Thanks." I frowned at him. I did not try to sound mean at all, but he's a stranger, and the way he said it shook my entire system as I had let Mandy tie the right edge of my shirt into a firm knot. Therefore, I wasn't sure if he was making fun of us, or actually meant it as a compliment

      "He's hot!" Oh, no. "Go for him!" Mandy said as she adjusted her now-to-be-a-crop-top 

    "No." I slowly shook my head - hesitant and quite scared. I wasn't going to let her sabotage my night by setting me up on a blind date. In abundant ways, I wanted my first date to be special. I was innocent, and well - me. The universe itself had its own inside jokes about me. I remember when we were fifteen and they dared me to kiss 'the rings' while bending on my knees. I bent down, and kissed Mandy's finger ring while everyone in the room started laughing at me in ridicule. They were exactly aware of what they were doing, except for me of course.

    The doors opened at around 9:30, and I felt like there were a billion atom of carbon dioxide wanting to burst my safe personal bubble.

Tickets please," the usher said, blocking our way. Greg gave him the tickets, looking all macho as if he is a major movie star. Greg was and still is a snob.

     "They don't have to see our IDs, right?" I whispered to Mandy, knowing for certain that, with all the music and people screaming, this question won't even be heard by Mighty Greg. She shook her head, informing me that they don't dare to once they see the cash at the end of their month.

    And she was right. The usher stamped our hands, and then the hostess handed out glowing bracelets when we left the ticket area. Once we entered the arena, all feelings within were ignited - the flash luminous lights, the loud music that was playing with its trembling bass, the screams of half-naked girls running all over the place, and the laser beams that were set on each corner of the stage, with the equipment prepared, for the Historical and Legendary band of all times to sit and rock our worlds.

Picture of Raquel's mother on the side :) I hope you enjoy the trailer x