Duality

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© Amber Kalkes 2014

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"Doll Parts" By Hole

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Cracking my eyes open I groan. The sun is high in the sky and has made it its mission to nearly blind me with its rays as they stream through the my motel room's window. Shifting around I angle myself towards the darker section of the bed hoping to find some peace there but instead see the digital clock on the side table glowing its numbers at me. Two in the afternoon.

 Damn.

 Sitting up in the bed I look around the room itself feeling nothing but bland awareness. The room isn't anything special especially after years of having being a bit of a vagabond after I left home at seventeen and graduated high school. The room's main color is brown. The scratchy flat carpet, the walls, the bedding and even the furniture are all some shade of brown making the whole room look similar to the coloring of the woods nearby.

 I turn my gaze towards the window and gaze out towards the nearby woods slightly dazed. I've always liked the lost feeling one gets in the woods. When I was a kid I used to play in the woods by my grandfather's place pretending I was a lost princess trying to find a prince to help her break the curse placed on her. Minus the storyline now I still find myself often drawn to the woods, as a place to get lost in.

 And I always need a place to get lost.

 With a longing sigh I get out of bed and make my way towards the bathroom needing a shower before I can start to actually wake up. Going into the equally brown based bathroom I catch my own reflection from the corner of my eye. I've been avoiding it since that morning but I can't avoid it anymore. Turning towards the mirror's image I feel tears build in my hazel colored eyes and I realize why people have been staring like they have.

 I look like hell warmed over.

 My right cheek bone is swollen, bruised and cut from his ring catching on the bone. My left eye is rimmed in black and rimmed in red from a well aimed punch. My lower lip is swollen and split from another hard slap. The left side of my face is covered in little cuts from being thrown into the wall and my face hitting a framed picture, shattering the glass. My neck is terribly bruised with finger marks from Keith choking me until I passed out and that's just from the shoulder up. I turn my body a bit and the reflection follows the action.

 It only gets worse. My back right shoulder is a dark purple color from landing on it when he tossed me around. My stomach is bruised from his kicks and my ribs don't feel much better from ever blow they received. My knees are scraped and my legs are peppered with odd bruises here and there as well from trying to crawl away before being dragged back.

 This isn't me.

 This isn't Wren Maria Mendoza.

 This can't be me.

 But it is and the fact is sobering.

 Objectively I know I should have known better, should have left sooner and should have fought back harder. I also know that I was foolish in falling for a guy who in retrospect also seemed a bit off but I also have to face the fact that I'd never liked being alone. I never liked the emptiness I felt whenever I was single, alone and unloved.