My Name is Raquel [Editing From Scratch]

Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

A tear forms on the corner of my eyes before it rolls down my face when comfortably numb is over and with a swift move I wipe it immediately as regression rules my mind. 

 Why did I have to remember it all? 

I will admit that I've never moved on and the past still haunts my present and shall haunt my future. Since I believe the future is the second that goes by, turning into a minute then into an hour. Just an hour of remembering and look at me ... tears won again, leaving me in such a position between me, myself and time.

     I step closer to the box that remains lying on the desk as it awaits me to open the wounds one more. My fingers now reach an old book. Its outside has ripped faded brown leather and its papers are yellow and detached, totally out of place, letting a paper from the last page fall onto my feet. I bend down to grab it and set it aside flipping through the pages of this shattered book.

"A mother. 

They say she is a guardian angel, they call her a God's gift, a protector and your first true love, you came to this world because of a woman therefore you are asked to respect her in society and in your domestic borders. 

A mother sacrifices herself to watch your bones form in time while her own body weakens and diminishes, pouring her mind body and soul into you in order to be her pride, and her prize. 

But how could a mother shred you apart, is that a gift from God too? Why do they refer to God in every statement whether it was good or bad, is it to test you and guide you? Or question his great existence? If God treats everyone equally then how come Mandy and Silva were blessed by angels when mine was drowning herself in reading books a human being, my father, prints them out and distributes them to Christian Libraries across Europe?

How could I be rewarded by pain because of a cage my mother was never raised in? How could a mother bang on your door demanding you to get out and pretend like you weren't hurt? Any answer for that? How can a stranger become someone close to you, closer than your mother if she was a Gift from God? Isn't a stranger a gift, a blessing, a lesson or a curse? When did a mother ever share her deepest secrets and mistakes with a daughter if she knows it'll crush her down but when a stranger tells his story people get inspired? After last night I have decided to write every day or two. 

Therefore... Dear Diary it is 11 in the morning September the 3rd and my mother didn't bother herself to wake me up. Should I be scared or relieved?"

I laid my pen on my desk and then shifting my gaze to my bed, it was fixed, for I hadn't slept on it instead I slept on the concrete floor. Its cold temperature calmed my boiling blood, cooling my skin and reviving it, its hard material made love to my aching muscles allowing me to feel the peace and love I had needed from my own mother. I was still in my dress that I had worn last night, for I have decided to change my grotesque figure after showering in cold water.

I entered the shower and turned the tap on letting the cold water fall into the bathtub its sound calmed me the same way the hard concrete floor did last night. It was painful at first but it brought me pleasure I never thought I could feel, letting my numbed body interact with the cold drops on my skin.

"Pain. Oh God. There are many types like you said, some bring pleasure." He said, and he was right. In a way."

 

A knock on the door tore my gaze from the water in the bathtub and I stared at the door for a minute with complete surprise taking a hold of me. "Raquel?" A faint voice said from behind the bedroom door, but I didn't know whom to expect except for it to be Silva, since Mandy never came over because she and my mother used to love each other dearly.