Tuesday, October 18, 2011

As life gets longer, awful feels softer,
and it feels pretty soft to me.
And if it takes shit to make bliss,
well I feel pretty blissfully. 



We packed our things and left in secret, only taking the money we had earned from our jobs, not much, not nearly enough. My mother wanted me to go to college, and Brian, he turned down a scholarship to UConn.To join Maurice on his Manifest Destiny.


We ended up moving into a small, nearly unbearably small apartment in the neighborhood of Chelsea. We settled down. Maurice began to audition for plays, Brain found work as a stage hand, and I worked as a bartender down the road a ways at night, and for a few hours in the morning I worked in a bakery. I had to, to make ends meet. The Rent wasn't cheap, and we had nearly no money. But I didn't mind. Maurice would come home, and tell us stories of the auditions, of the beautiful actresses, the directors, the drama he watched, and would hold me tight when I came home from the bar. He'd hold me and stroke me

only to dissapear and leave behind a depressed, spiteful man when he was not cast.

This happened

again

and again

andagainandagainandagain

No one was casting an unknown with no training and only 6 roles to his name.

Maurice would rage, sulk

and then he turned to drink+

and would rage and scream

just like my father.








If life's not beautiful without the pain,

well I'd just rather never ever even see beauty again.
Well as life gets longer, awful feels softer.
And it feels pretty soft to me. 



 But Brian...


Brian was sucessful.


Brain had tghe skills needed to secure his job, and rose quickly through the ranks as a skilled technician. He was getting paid more and more and even though he worked long hours, we could afford Maurice. We could afford him not working and drinking all day, going to auditions and then drinking more. We could afford to be his slaves.


But one night


when Maurice had passed out after forcing himself on me drunkenly again, saying how much he loved me


Brian put his hands on my shaking shoulders, gently, kissed me on the forehead and carried me out of the appartment.

Brain had been saving in secret, you see. He told me


"I won't let him hurt you anymore. I love you, Rachael. I love you. "


And I clung to him like a raft as he took me away from the terror, the fear.

Maurice dissapeared from our lives.

2 comments:

  1. Fuck, Rachael, I'm so sorry. I...I know what that's like, I'm so sorry you had to go through that.

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  2. Aw, such a sad recollection, it makes me want to cry...

    Seriously, it makes me want to cry. What is wrong with all you people? Boo hoo, the world sucks, woe is me, the gas station is out of ice cream sandwiches! Maybe you ought to add some class to your life. You might feel better if you stopped haning around some crappy bar like a cheap whore. Must I do all the thinking for you people?

    --Roulette

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