𝐅𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐈
𝙁𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙙 𝙥𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙗𝙧𝙤𝙠𝙚𝙣 𝙜𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙨, 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙖 𝙢𝙞𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙧 𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙣 𝙞𝙨 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜.
𝙒𝙖𝙨 𝙞𝙩 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙖 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙩? '𝘾𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩, 𝙩𝙤 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙨.
𝐵𝑒𝓎𝑜𝓃𝒸é ♡
It was the day before Valentine's Day. A holiday I don't recall ever celebrating, but the hopeless romantic in me was quite content with that, knowing others who are living in love will hopefully have the most cherished experience.
You know that bitter saying, love doesn't live here? I cannot relate. The optimism that runs through my veins, leaves me chronicle that I shall receive love, make love, and reciprocate that same desired love.
Or maybe these are just pipe dreams. Who knows.
There were many scattered soles, here inside a packed Target, which I assume to be last-minute gift shopping. I noticed baskets filled with chocolate, roses, lilies, and oversized stuffed animals that looked to appear at least seven feet tall.
As I went to pick out a few citrus fruits, I noticed a lovely black lesbian couple. Both connected at the hip, as they were having a healthy debate over onions. I smiled, envisioning this being the exact adoration I'll have one day. The curly-haired one of the two, gave-in as they decided on the purple onion, but before they could walk away, the other girl slyly slid a yellow onion into her purse.
I chuckled because although they may be tight on money, she was willing to steal for both of their satisfaction. Romantic as fuck.
I trailed my way to the back of the store, for the actual reason I came to Target, other than a therapeutic trip of browsing, and peace.
I wouldn't consider myself a photographer. It sounds too much like a profession than it is an artistic expression. I prefer to live through my photos. I don't necessarily always have an idea of what I'll be capturing day by day, but my content has grown tremendously.
I needed to restock on film because I had an old Target gift card, so I figured why not buy some here? See, at Walmart, I would've had to hunt down an employee to get to the electronics department, all while making an effort to dodge the annoying Spectrum employees, begging me to get their phone service, plus an internet bundle. Shopping in Wally World versus Target are two different experiences. I'll choose peace over insanity any day.
Deciphering the best film for my canon camera, I shopped for a few toiletries and then proceeded to an open register. The self-checkout line was beyond busy, so I didn't mind choosing the faster route. I of course went to register four, being that it was my favorite number, and there stood a beautiful woman waving off the previous consumer. I aligned my items on the black belt, and continued to the payment portion of this brief transaction.
"Hello. Will this be all for you ma'am?" She asked, not taking her focus from her scanning.
Her voice. I'm not sure why, but the accent, along with the sly raspy tone. Seemed to perk my interest. It was cute, and I could tell she wasn't from the south by a long shot.
"Yes. If I were to stay a minute longer, I'd have a full basket." I happily responded, injecting my credit card into the machine.
Her head sprung upward, immediately landing her eyes upon my face. She stared at me for a while, as I entered to needed information into the small touch screen. Perhaps she thought I was attractive? Or maybe, I had a little crust occupying the crevice of my eye?
"Is there something on my face?" I did kind of rush out of bed this morning. I like doing any sort of shopping in the daytime to prevent crowds. Today just so happens to be the eve of a holiday, so I'm not that surprised at the sudden assemblage this morning.
"Oh no. I'm sorry. You just reminded me of an old friend of mine." She debunked, with a half smile. "Here's your receipt, and I hope you have a great day!"
"Hey, Onika. You can go ahead and go on your lunch break once you finish up here." Someone who looked to be her supervisor, informed her as she handed me the receipt. Her fingers gazed at mine unwittingly, provoking her to flench.
"Sorry." We both muttered, simultaneously.
Weird.
"You have a nice day as well," I stated, grabbing my bag from the side, and power-walking away to the Starbucks line.
I was thoroughly confused, and unsure of what just occurred—and why, although, I didn't tend to distinguish the Onika lady, she was indeed familiar in a sense. I mean yes, she was beautiful, even covered in her work uniform. She had her hair straightened with bangs evenly cut across, sitting right above her eyelids. There was a replica of the Barbie symbol inked in pink on her brown-toned wrist, and she also wore a necklace. Her necklace was gold with possibly her initials engraved on the front. OTM.
Wait.
Gold necklace, with initials. I mean, it's a very cliche necklace, but the font on it was distinctly different.
"Order for Knowles!" Was shouted, catching me from falling into the hollows of my pondering. Quickly grabbing my iced mocha, I proceeded to my car to head home.
As I turned to put my seat belt on, I quickly sensed a presence walking by. Glancing to my right out the window, It was her again, now covered in a grey essential hoodie. I believe she was leaving for her lunch break. Without thinking I briskly reach over to my tote back, retrieving the phone. I continued to my camera app, zooming in on her face, slyly snapping a few photos for further observation.
Rest assured, I'm not doing this to be creepy, or anything else of the sort. It's just, I can't stop thinking about her, and when we touched briefly, how time seemed to desist.
I flipped through a few of the photos, trying not to dissect them too much. Her face was so uniquely shaped, with a feminine touch. Perhaps, I was in deep thought for nothing. I mean it's not like, the mystery of a woman would date me, or anything.
Yes, I do land on the attractive side of the moon, but I believe it's my personality, and interest that hinders me.
I enjoy shit like, DIY YouTube videos, and a Zumba class here and there, and I'm such a mythology geek, it's somewhat concerning.
The right person will align with my interests in due time, but I can't lie like this Onika person isn't invading my brain. Beneath the surface, things solely happen for a reason.
Until we meet again..
♡
I was in the middle of laminating a few pieces I had the pleasure of capturing a couple of weeks ago during my hiking trip. I hung them up onto a clothing pin to dry and decided to call it a night.
I felt my phone vibrating in the back pocket of my black corduroy pants, inducing me to take the call without glaring at the screen. A bad habit of mine. I know.
"Beyoncé, speaking."
"You even answer the phone like you dabble in pussy every once in a while."
"I actually don't. Depending on the person, everyone's greeting is different according to their religion. I'm just being respectful. That's all."
"Girl, what the fuck? You been givin' ya number out to the jehovah's witnesses?"
I frowned, "No, Solange. You know Robyn is converting over to the Nation of Islam."
"Damn. I was wondering why that bitch don't eat ribs no more. I was like, she fuckin' that salmon up though."
Solange is my older sister, by three years to be exact. And despite the fact that she can be a tad crazy, I love my big sis. She's been more than a helping hand to me. Mentally and physically.
"Is there anything you needed in particular, Solange?"
She scoffed, "I just had to look behind me trying to figure out who you were talking to. You must need some coochie, Bey, because you get a little cranky when you're hungry."
I locked the door to my film room and trailed downstairs to my kitchen to fix myself a bowl of guacamole and chips. She was right, I am hungry, but not necessarily starving for what she's trying to imply.
"Sorry. The start of my day was interesting, to say the least. I met this wom—"
"AH!" She screamed, shattering half my eardrum.
"You met another lesbian? Oh, this is good. Continue."
"Well, no. I'm not aware of her sexual orientation, but she was acting sort of strange. I guess what stood out to me the most was that she was fidgeting, and she had on a necklace that resembled mine. The gold one, with my initials on it."
"What were her initials, Bey?" Solange quickly questioned.
"Um. Hold on, I believe I snapped a photo. All I can remember is O, right now." I cut my phone to the speaker option and diverted into my recent photos in my gallery. I zoomed into the photo and read, "OTM." Which was perfectly carved into the small plated gold.
The line remained quiet for a brief moment, which I believed to be weird because Solange always had a response to any and everything.
"Hello, Solange?"
"Did you possibly get her name by chance?"
"Yeah, it was on her name tag, and heard her manager repeat it. It was something like Anik, or Ohniki. I'm not sure. I was too busy looking at her face." I uttered, honestly.
"Onika?"
"Yes! Wait, how did you know that, Solo? Did I know this woman before? Like b-before—the accident?"
We don't usually speak upon anything regarding to our past, or the traumatic car accident my parents and I were in. Unfortunately, that was my last ever encounter with them, and I'm just lucky to be able to move my joints again, let alone breath the crisp air of life.
"Bey, I think it's time you go through that box to find your answers. It was only a matter of time before you two reconnected. Once you dig deep and remember Onika, go find her. You deserve to be happy. She's the key to your ever after. Trust me on this, baby sister."
Suddenly, I heard a dial tone, making my eyebrows furrow, as I felt every bit of confusion.
I had so many questions. So many events I wish I could remember, before my concussion. I can usually remember things through smell, music, and most of all, pictures—but that's only sometimes. Most times, I struggled so I just avoided it at all costs.
Grabbing my glass bowl of chips and dip, I hurriedly scattered to my room, setting my guac and chips down on my dresser, not before getting a good bite first. I dusted off my hands, traveling inside my walk-in closet, heading directly toward the back corner. I reached up on my tippy toes, running my hand against the wooden top shelf to search for the tiny key to the small black door.
Once taking hold of the cold silver medal, I quickly dropped to my knees, unlocked the door handle, and juggled it open. I immediately began to cough at the dust particles flying everywhere. I tried shooing them away as I reached inside to locate the small white cardboard box.
It took me a few minutes because there were other sentimental pieces and archives in that tightly squeezed area, but eventually I found it. I dragged the box into the middle of my closet and plopped down in front of it, pulling my hair into a messy bun.
My hands were so dirty, I could feel the griminess eating away at my palms. Usually, I'd care about the filth, but it wasn't my main focus.
The box was plain, with no special lettering on the outside, so I promptly peeled back the top with no effort, placing it onto the floor beside me.
Inside I noticed a thin pink blanket, a few tech books, a small charm bracelet, and what looked like a stack of birthday cards. On the side I noticed a tiny picture sticking out of one of the books, generating me to instantly tug it out from between the crinkly pages.
I blew on it first, nervous as to what, or who would be on the graphical side. Remembering certain events, or time periods tend to unfold a lot of good things, and sometimes baggage. But at this moment, I only wanted answers. For my current sake—and for her, the Beyoncé I was before my memory loss.
I peeled open my light hazel specks to inspect the photograph. Somewhat astonished, It was indeed a mug of the woman. The small black-haired cashier from Target, with the New York twang.
The faded picture was black and white and she looked to be dressed in a formal attire. She didn't have any bangs, gracing me a better view of her face.
Turning the image to the other side, I recognized my handwriting, instantly. 'OTM, my date to the basketball banquet. 04-28-2016'
"Onika.. Tanya M-Maraj." I muttered, as my hands shook due to my remembrance increasing.
She was the love of my life. My girlfriend.
𝑒𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝒻𝒶𝒹𝑒𝒹 𝓅𝒾𝒸𝓉𝓊𝓇𝑒𝓈 𝐼
________________________________
Thoughts?
There will be a part II.
Update again tonight or tomorrow?
Also, as requested, I am working on
BMUS becoming a book. Stay tuned.
[I know her strap is big.]