| Biographical Non-Fiction posted November 20, 2023 | Chapters: |
1 2 -3- 4... 
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A new education one that only a woman could learn. Age 17
A chapter in the book Spectre
The Other World Pt1
by Lea Tonin1
The author has placed a warning on this post for violence.
The author has placed a warning on this post for language.
Stuffed and filled with empty guilt
Actors love my souls sad wilt.
Naivete they took from me
Harsher world all I could see
Use of lust for safetys sake
My heart, my mind, my love did take.
Lost I was in sexual hate
Come for me and don't be late.
*****************************
I awoke today to another shower of sunlight. These days it's more likely I'd wake with a smile instead of a frown. Leaning on my window sill, sipping my coffee, I looked out into the backyard. My breath on the air, same as it would be on the outside, causes me to turn on my little heater.
I watched my dog Spirit timidly walking across the frozen yard. She paused at every step pulling her paws up into the air, making it clear she did not want to make contact.
The winter chickadees flitting about between trees borrowing shelves of air seemed to distract her a little but not enough for her to venture further.
Calling her in, I walked toward my PC.
The monitor seemed to wink at me, encouraging me to write, even though what comes is far from pretty. The admission of hard truths. Things that I don't wish to look at except I must. Because guilt and shame are the two most toxic emotions there are. They provide no solutions, they fix no problems, they create no positive action, they just make the wheel of regret go round and round. Toxic.
It's time to go back. No more room for procrastination. The tale must be told and whatever comes of it, it's as it should be.
Action reaction, push shove, give take.
More give really....
*****************************
"You can come out now. Mom's gone to work."
My friend E said.
"Ok cool."
I was feeling cramped after a few hours under the stairs.
I came out of the closet. I bent my back to relieve some stiffness, then walked into the kitchen.
"Sit down." she said and served me up some noodle soup and grilled cheese. It was the best meal I've had in like forever.
"Milk?" She asked.
"Yes please." I replied.
I always thought milk to be the nectar of the gods.
"So we're going to the club tonight."We'll have a couple drinks and check out the situation."
"What situation?" I thought. "Uh, I don't have any money." I said. "Don't worry about it. I'll take it from mom." She replied.
I stared at her, repeated her statement while I raised an eyebrow.
"Ya," she said. "I just go into her wallet and take it. She doesn't care. If she does, she doesn't say anything." E said.
"Isn't the club a bar? Aren't we a bit under age?" I asked. "
"Don't worry about that, I've got that covered too. Just get in the shower 'cause you look grim."
"When you're done, we can go through my closet. You can wear something decent."
I did exactly as she asked. Not to do so, at that point, would risk having no roof over my head. I was used to following orders though, so I reacted as I always have and went to the shower.
I confess the shower did feel marvelous. It was nice to be clean, have food in my tummy and then get to put on her fluffy house coat.
A strange feeling of uneasiness came over me. I was going to be paying for this privilege, sooner rather than later.
Coming out of the shower, I looked around and saw what I assumed was a bedroom standing open. Padding down the hallway, I peaked in the room and saw my friend rifling through her closet.
She turned, "Oh shit. Hey come in. Sorry, I'm used to being alone."
"I know the feeling." Responding with sincerity.
She smiled and said, "Ok, so I picked you out an outfit. Try it on."
She passed me a small black skirt and a black shiny top, button up. Translucent in its thinness.
"Doesn't look like a lot of material here." I thought to myself.
I slipped on the outfit and looked in the mirror. "Holy!" I thought.
In the mirror was an attractive young woman/girl. Dark hair and light blue eyes looking back at her.
The skirt was too short for my liking. Midthigh. The shirt looked like it would blow away in a gentle breeze. I felt a bit naked. I wasn't used to wearing these kinds of clothes. I walked out of the bathroom feeling a bit embarrassed.
"Well, look at you. She smiled. "There's a real live female underneath all that grime! C'mon sit down. You need a little war paint and a some curl in your hair."
"War paint?" I asked.
"Make up silly." She replied.
"Oh." I said.
With a skillful hand she worked on my face. The girl I was suddenly transformed into something different. Something older, something no longer childish.
A woman peered back at me from the mirror. Far from the ugly girl my step father said I was.
A pair of high heels, a little big, but fit alright and a leather jacket completed the look.
She too looked transformed from a regular high school student into something resembling a lovely woman.
She called us a cab and ten minutes later we were standing in front of a club with a big pink flamingo flashing bright. The building on my left had a large, lit sign with black letters that said,
"Live Nude Girls!" "As apposed to what?" I thought. "Dead ones?" Sometimes signs are stupid.
I could see my friend talking to two men by the door underneath the big pink flamingo. The three of them turned to look at me and then they started to walk over.
The one man kept advancing on me and butted his way into my personal space backing me up against the wall. His body was pushed up against mine, both hands on either side of my head. "How are you doing pretty lady?"
"Fine if you'd get off me." I responded my eyes wide with fear and crisping with anger.
He glowered, one hand slipped to my throat. Applying slow pressure he said, "I don't like smart mouth girls." Pushing himself tighter against me.
"Think it's in your best interest to be nice to me." He growled. "Do you get that little miss Moffitt?"
Click click. "Let her go."
*****************************
One bit at a time this story will crawl it's way out...a feeling of emptiness comes upon me. Happens when I have to write a particularly dark period of my life. Worse when I lived it.
Bare with me while I carefully navigate the section one chunk at time.
For now, let us let sleeping dogs lie.
Tripping the light fantastic....
Stuffed and filled with empty guilt
Actors love my souls sad wilt.
Naivete they took from me
Harsher world all I could see
Use of lust for safetys sake
My heart, my mind, my love did take.
Lost I was in sexual hate
Come for me and don't be late.
*****************************
I awoke today to another shower of sunlight. These days it's more likely I'd wake with a smile instead of a frown. Leaning on my window sill, sipping my coffee, I looked out into the backyard. My breath on the air, same as it would be on the outside, causes me to turn on my little heater.
I watched my dog Spirit timidly walking across the frozen yard. She paused at every step pulling her paws up into the air, making it clear she did not want to make contact.
The winter chickadees flitting about between trees borrowing shelves of air seemed to distract her a little but not enough for her to venture further.
Calling her in, I walked toward my PC.
The monitor seemed to wink at me, encouraging me to write, even though what comes is far from pretty. The admission of hard truths. Things that I don't wish to look at except I must. Because guilt and shame are the two most toxic emotions there are. They provide no solutions, they fix no problems, they create no positive action, they just make the wheel of regret go round and round. Toxic.
It's time to go back. No more room for procrastination. The tale must be told and whatever comes of it, it's as it should be.
Action reaction, push shove, give take.
More give really....
*****************************
"You can come out now. Mom's gone to work."
My friend E said.
"Ok cool."
I was feeling cramped after a few hours under the stairs.
I came out of the closet. I bent my back to relieve some stiffness, then walked into the kitchen.
"Sit down." she said and served me up some noodle soup and grilled cheese. It was the best meal I've had in like forever.
"Milk?" She asked.
"Yes please." I replied.
I always thought milk to be the nectar of the gods.
"So we're going to the club tonight."We'll have a couple drinks and check out the situation."
"What situation?" I thought. "Uh, I don't have any money." I said. "Don't worry about it. I'll take it from mom." She replied.
I stared at her, repeated her statement while I raised an eyebrow.
"Ya," she said. "I just go into her wallet and take it. She doesn't care. If she does, she doesn't say anything." E said.
"Isn't the club a bar? Aren't we a bit under age?" I asked. "
"Don't worry about that, I've got that covered too. Just get in the shower 'cause you look grim."
"When you're done, we can go through my closet. You can wear something decent."
I did exactly as she asked. Not to do so, at that point, would risk having no roof over my head. I was used to following orders though, so I reacted as I always have and went to the shower.
I confess the shower did feel marvelous. It was nice to be clean, have food in my tummy and then get to put on her fluffy house coat.
A strange feeling of uneasiness came over me. I was going to be paying for this privilege, sooner rather than later.
Coming out of the shower, I looked around and saw what I assumed was a bedroom standing open. Padding down the hallway, I peaked in the room and saw my friend rifling through her closet.
She turned, "Oh shit. Hey come in. Sorry, I'm used to being alone."
"I know the feeling." Responding with sincerity.
She smiled and said, "Ok, so I picked you out an outfit. Try it on."
She passed me a small black skirt and a black shiny top, button up. Translucent in its thinness.
"Doesn't look like a lot of material here." I thought to myself.
I slipped on the outfit and looked in the mirror. "Holy!" I thought.
In the mirror was an attractive young woman/girl. Dark hair and light blue eyes looking back at her.
The skirt was too short for my liking. Midthigh. The shirt looked like it would blow away in a gentle breeze. I felt a bit naked. I wasn't used to wearing these kinds of clothes. I walked out of the bathroom feeling a bit embarrassed.
"Well, look at you. She smiled. "There's a real live female underneath all that grime! C'mon sit down. You need a little war paint and a some curl in your hair."
"War paint?" I asked.
"Make up silly." She replied.
"Oh." I said.
With a skillful hand she worked on my face. The girl I was suddenly transformed into something different. Something older, something no longer childish.
A woman peered back at me from the mirror. Far from the ugly girl my step father said I was.
A pair of high heels, a little big, but fit alright and a leather jacket completed the look.
She too looked transformed from a regular high school student into something resembling a lovely woman.
She called us a cab and ten minutes later we were standing in front of a club with a big pink flamingo flashing bright. The building on my left had a large, lit sign with black letters that said,
"Live Nude Girls!" "As apposed to what?" I thought. "Dead ones?" Sometimes signs are stupid.
I could see my friend talking to two men by the door underneath the big pink flamingo. The three of them turned to look at me and then they started to walk over.
The one man kept advancing on me and butted his way into my personal space backing me up against the wall. His body was pushed up against mine, both hands on either side of my head. "How are you doing pretty lady?"
"Fine if you'd get off me." I responded my eyes wide with fear and crisping with anger.
He glowered, one hand slipped to my throat. Applying slow pressure he said, "I don't like smart mouth girls." Pushing himself tighter against me.
"Think it's in your best interest to be nice to me." He growled. "Do you get that little miss Moffitt?"
Click click. "Let her go."
*****************************
One bit at a time this story will crawl it's way out...a feeling of emptiness comes upon me. Happens when I have to write a particularly dark period of my life. Worse when I lived it.
Bare with me while I carefully navigate the section one chunk at time.
For now, let us let sleeping dogs lie.
Tripping the light fantastic....
 Recognized |
This story is part of an ongoing auto bio called Spectre, book two in the series. Book one is called Ghost. Both can be found in my portfolio should you wish to read. Please note, a word of caution. Some chapters are hard to absorb reader discretion is advised.
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