581Creations 3,564,085Downloads

Pieces of Me
Published Jul 15, 2010


Page 1 / 17

No description written...

Preface Darkness.
For 28 days now, I have lived it and breathed it. It leaves a bitter after taste in my mouth as it forces its way through, it burns my nostrils as I inhale it, and it chokes me as I swallow it. I can feel it make its way to my veins, fiercely, burning me from the inside, out. Suffocating me, eventually it over powers me, I can no longer fight it, it takes me.
I turn black.
And then like clockwork, after the looming and lingering darkness cradles me, it appears. The light at the end of the tunnel….
Chapter 1 : The Darkness Here I was nearly a month after my 18th birthday, standing in front of the new place I was to call home. It smelled of rusted metal, burnt rubber, and garbage, but I guess it’s to be expected living next to a junkyard. The air was thick and humid, and there was a lingering fog in the area, I thought to myself, “Can life get any worse at this point?” I trudged up the stairs and placed my shiny new key into the rusted old lock, I stood there for a few moments fighting with the door, when I remembered what the landlord had told me “You have to give it a few jiggles, the locks pretty rusted haven’t gotten around to changing it yet, but the upside is, no need to worry about anyone breaking in when it’s hard enough to get in with a key!” I remembered his loud boisterous chuckle, and wanting to say something about his lack of landlord skills, but instead gave him a half hearted, sarcastic smile. After finally winning the battle with the door, I was a little surprised that the inside wasn’t nearly half as bad as the outside, it was drab, the wood floors were older than dirt, but the kitchen was a decent size, there was a separate bedroom and a decent enough amount of space, and it came with some furnishings. I was no penthouse suite but it was livable. I had picked up a few things at the local grocery store, and since I hadn’t eaten nearly all day made myself a salad and sat down to eat. I looked around the small walls that enclosed me. The awful smell of the junkyard was turning my stomach and I could barely bring myself to eat. So I sat there and began to daydream…. I can feel the soft gentle breeze at my back; I can taste the salt in the air, and feel the sand between my toes. I hear her boisterous laugh, as mom and I enjoy our trademark "Lazy Day" at the beach, propped on our favorite palm swing, the light gentle spray of ocean water on our backs as the tide comes rolling in. We sit and forget our worries for those few hours every week. It’s a nice escape. But as we all know, all good things must come to an end. I can remember how furious mom was when I got home.
“Daniella Marie Lansing!!! How many times have I told you to pick up your dirty laundry? Your room looks like a pig pen!” She shrieked at me.
“Mom, chill it’s just some dirty clothes!!” I snapped back as I rolled my eyes and stomped to my room.
Being a teen it would be uncharacteristic of me to run and do what I’m told, I needed to collect my thoughts for a moment, so I do what I would naturally do anytime I’m stressed or angry, I winded up my rusty old music box my grandmother had given me when I was 7. I remember the first time I opened it, the ballerina inside, she looked so fragile, and delicate yet so beautiful with her pale, fair, silky skin, her shiny chocolate colored hair, wound up neatly into a bun, her pink tutu adorned with frills and lace, her ballerina shoes seemingly fitted perfect to her feet, there she stood on her tippie toes, gracefully turning to the most delightful song I had ever heard Beethoven’s “Für Elise”, it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. It moved me. I named her Arabella. And Bella always knew how to soothe me. I would close my eyes and imagine myself in that tiny box. Not a care in the world, pirouetting to the beautiful sounds coming from beneath me. Though I loved it so, I never aspired to become a ballerina; my passion had always been photography. I loved capturing a moment, the same way my mom did the first time I opened that grungy, rickety, rusty, box. It taught me a few important lessons as well,

1. Good things come in small packages.
2. You can’t judge a book by its cover.
After I calmed down a little, I picked up my dirty clothes and deposited them into the hamper and put away the clean ones mom neatly piled onto my bed. They were fragrant, a light scent of vanilla and lavender, crisp, sweet and clean. And that’s when I saw it, there on my dresser in all its glory, the Hikon QX40di Gladiator, only the best and most advanced camera on the market at the moment. I broke out into song and dance instantly I was completely and utterly over come with nirvana.
I had begged and pleaded with mom for months to get this camera, she thought I wasn’t responsible enough to take care of such and expensive item, but on that eve of my 18th birthday, there it rested peacefully on my dresser. Thanks mom.
I woke up early the next morning and fixed myself a bowl of cereal, I noticed a note on the table from mom, she had went to take all the fruits and vegetables she harvested this morning to the market. Before I could even get my spoon into the bowl I hear skidding tires, and a loud crash outside. It was the sound of metal crinkling and twisting and breaking. I ran outside as quickly as my feet could take me, black smoke billowing from the vehicles already started seeping over to me. I see a man get out of his SUV, and run over to the body lying mangled in the middle of the road. “She’s dead! Someone call the police QUICK!” he exclaimed. I gasped, what a tragedy. I studied the scene a little more closely and began to realize that the other vehicle had some resemblance to my mothers. I squinted a little and studied it even closer, then realized that was her lying in the middle of the road.

She was gone.

I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, and before I knew it I had my head in my hands and was crying uncontrollably.
I sat there momentarily snapping out of it, trying to fast forward past the most painful memories, The moments after they confirmed it was her, the next morning, waking up in an empty house, going to the market and seeing her produce sitting there, beautiful, succulent, fresh, people putting their fitly hands all over it, her funeral, the reading of the will. All were much too painful. Darkness.
For 28 days now, I have lived it and breathed it. It leaves a bitter after taste in my mouth as it forces its way through, it burns my nostrils as I inhale it, and it chokes me as I swallow it. I can feel it make its way to my veins, fiercely, burning me from the inside, out. Suffocating me, eventually it over powers me, I can no longer fight it, and it takes me.
I turn black.
And then like clockwork, after the looming and lingering darkness cradles me, it appears. The light at the end of the tunnel….

The memories rush forward and take me back. I don’t want to go back. I called the bank the 29th morning, and sold the house to them, and gave the money to the community. I wanted none of it, the house, the material items, and the money. Nothing to remind me of….. her. Sounds selfish, I know. But I had to move on, her death was consuming me, if I continued on this path, I would have been right along with her, where ever she was. I know she wouldn’t want that, she would want me to move on and enjoy life.
I left with the clothes on my back, the fifty six dollars and thirty five cents I had in my piggy bank left over (after I paid my dues on a place I was renting nearly a hundred miles away, and the cab fare it was going to take me to get there.) and two items :

My rusty, tattered music box and the camera mom bought me for my 18th birthday.

Pieces of me I could never live without.

I got in the cab and gave the woman the address, I didn’t look at the house as the cab pulled away, nor did I look back as the town disappeared into the horizon. I was starting over, and if I looked back, I might decide I couldn’t leave, and no matter how much I didn’t want to, I had to, I had to move on. And since I couldn't living here, I would elsewhere.
I brought myself back to reality, wiping a tear from my eye. I had entirely lost my appetite. I staggered over the sink to wash my plate; I stared out of the window as the bubbles filled the sink. I took a deep breath, and let out a sigh, wondering what I was going to do next, how was I going to put food on the table, pay the bills, suddenly it hit me, all those years I should have listened when my mom told me to stop and smell the roses and not grow up to quickly, because being in the real world wasn’t such a picnic, and now here I am, forced to be an adult, to make decisions that can affect the rest of my life, will I ever be able to stop and smell the roses again, will I choose not to, afraid to be stabbed by the thorns? The only thing I was sure of in my life, was, things were never going to be the same.

Other Stories


Add a Comment

Please report any offensive comments so we can remove them. Use of bad language, unsuitable links or flaming may result in deletion of your account.

Add Smilie

30 Comment(s) so far

Load more Comments New Comments are displayed at the bottom.

#21mogan44Jul 19, 2010

Fantastic intro!  I can't wait to read the rest.  You really drew me in with your screens and your amazing writing ability!

#22fredbrennyJul 19, 2010

Congrats for having it featured! Love the screens and your writing! I am looking forward to trhe next chapter \:rah\:

#23yettaboo625Aug 9, 2010

nice story

#24ohgodcaitlynAug 11, 2010

Awh so sad, But your a GREAT writer. I love it so far, off to read more.!

#25estaticaAug 12, 2010

Fantastic start, your writing kept me interested in the story from the beginning. I am off to read the next chapter!

#26fredbrennyAug 14, 2010

I have been awefully busy with real life things lately... Tonorrow I am going to read all of the next chapters!

#27mandythesimSep 27, 2010

wow what a great start to a series, i will go and read all the rest now! Congrats!!

#28love_42013Oct 8, 2010

Very poinent. Great introduction. I'm off to read the next chapter

#29oldmember_gip-kOct 27, 2010

You're a fantastic writer. This is absolutely pensive. I'm going to read the next chapter ASAP. I rated this 5/5, and that's rare for me.

#30Dec 21, 2010

great story

Log in to TSR

Not a Member yet?

Download blocked
Please turn off your ad-blocker to download.
If ads are a problem you can become a VIP member and enjoy an ad-free site.

Getting this message with no ad-blocker active?
Go here for help .