American library books » Short Story » Help, Im the worst kind of damsel in distress. by Jen Wesolowski (urban books to read txt) 📕

Read book online «Help, Im the worst kind of damsel in distress. by Jen Wesolowski (urban books to read txt) 📕».   Author   -   Jen Wesolowski



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dream.” In the 6 seconds it took me to register what was said, I immediately pocketed the paper and met my aunt at the car.

The ride back wasn’t so boring anymore. The conversation was dominated by me and I gabbed about uncertainties of the world. I was aware that my aunt had no idea what the extremities of any of this meant, but the inspiration of my high was too involved to ignore.

When I got home I spun into my room like a rabbit trying to outrun a fox. I reached for my pocket and I jumped into the words so pugnaciously.

“ You are forgetting something, young one. Its in your dream.”

“A Hopi Legend
After the departure of Spider Woman, the people set out once more to discover their new world. Alone they set out, traveling east and a little north, paddling hard day and night for many days as if they were paddling uphill.
At last they saw land. It rose high above the waters, stretching from north to south as far as they could see. A great land, a mighty land, their inner wisdom told them. "The Fourth World!" they cried to each other.
As they got closer, its shores rose higher and higher into a steep wall of mountains. There seemed no place to land. "Let us go north. There we will find our place of emergence," said some. So they went north, but the mountains rose higher and steeper.
"No! Let us go south! There we will find our place of emergence!" cried others. So they turned south and traveled many days more. But here too the mountain wall reared higher.
Not knowing what to do, the people stopped paddling, opened the doors on top of their heads, and let themselves be guided. Almost immediately the water smoothed out, and they felt their rafts caught up in a gentle current. Before long they landed and joyfully jumped out upon a sandy shore. "The Fourth World!" they cried. "We have reached our place of emergence at last!"
Soon all the others arrived and when they were gathered together, Sótuknang appeared before them. "Well, I see you are all here. This is good. This is the place I have prepared for you. Look now at the way you have come."
Looking to the west and south, the people could see sticking out of the water the islands upon which they had rested.
"They are the footprints of your journey," continued Sótuknang, "the tops of the high mountains of the Third World, which I destroyed. Now watch."
As the people watched them, the closest one sank under the water, then the next, until all were gone, and they could see only water.
"See," said Sótuknang, "I have washed away even the footprints of your emergence, the stepping-stones which I left for you. Down on the bottom of the sea lie all the proud cities, the flying pátuwvotas, and the worldly treasures corrupted with evil, and those people who found no time to sing praises to the Creator from the tops of their hills. But the day will come, if you preserve the memory and meaning of your emergence, when these stepping stones will emerge again to prove the truth you speak."

I must have sat there reading the page 8 times, and then focused on something rather specific.

“The fourth world” made an impressionable itch on me.

A month or so prior before the shatter of my heart, I began noticing the number four everywhere around me. Seldom at first, but as the time ticked the “coincidental” four appeared around each corner.

The most distinct circumstance was the time of crashing departure, which happened to fall on the 4th of June. A satanic blow that blew from the depths of my long boiling lunacy. I cringed with the facts I knew so very rich. And my devastation accumulated in maximum capacity.

I cant quite describe the hemorrhage of that situation, but the memory still haunts me. A spell of ingenuity that never seems to fade. That day I ate my promises I once so voluntarily honored to keep. And the love that we so easily shared, was demolished and left with hatred.

The next couple of months that followed the blow were the beginning of the finest experiences one’s self could endure. Being un-chained by the bitter reality of my pre- companions severe difficulties, had me glowing in the brightest of colors. A boulder made of granite has been suddenly lifted from my tiny chest.

I was seeing things in a whole different fashion and the positive values struck my senses as a lit cigarette would a bucket of ether. I breathed in garden- fresh air and exhaled the stars that lay in the night sky. I was a detangled soul, on her way to freedom. And all the while, ’4’ stalked me. Waking up and seeing the clock read “4:00am”, Going to the movies and being assigned to theater 4. There are also thousands of other relations that I couldn’t have possibly remembered them all. But the never lacking linking was so vast, that it soon became an obsession of mine.

After the afternoon of the irregular obtaining of such a stimulation of such a note, I retreated to the gym to soak up my wandering thoughts that now roamed through my head.

I effortlessly strolled down toward the pool room, where I was looking quite stunning. The gobbling eyes branded through me while the flatter of this gave my stomach a tickle.

I entered through the glass pool room doors wearing a contagious smile. Without delay my stare made its way towards a captivating fellow, drying off at a distance with a towel. A bit overawed, I almost clumsy-like walked to take my claim of a un-occupied lounge chair.

As I got comfortable, I reached for my book that I intended on reading for the time being. It was a Buddhism inspired read and I traced the words with my eyes.

“The second noble truth is: the cause of suffering is desire (or craving) if you don’t try to hold you don’t suffer over the loss you don’t fear death. If you don’t worship life but if you try to hold on to life its very sad. You can honor life but if you try to hold onto life…. Its very sad.”

“Did you ever see a really beautiful woman life a top model who is just getting to that point where her looks are changing into what could be an internal beauty if she hadn’t been so busy with her external beauty?” “She is caught in the beauty of time, which withers.” “HOW POIGNANT!” :

“And yet we’ve all touched people who were so beautiful as beings that we never notice whether they are physically beautiful. Its like an external beauty lives within them.”

“Well if you attach yourself if you crave temporal things. Beauty possessions. Achievements. Anything. How poignant!”

I was rushed into a mental frenzy of regrouping my intentions. I was liberated and I now wish to take a step back. Holding onto something, anything doesn’t sincere you for the upcoming future. Was I out of my mind?

The dearing male from minutes prior kept circling around in my mind. a domineering perseverance that I didn’t mind at all. In fact, it made me feel giddy inside.

I studied the way he carried himself. Confidently and with a splash of modesty. No doubt his outside appearance was radiant but the kind that looks fourth to no effort. His jaw line dazzled looking almost jizzled from marble. His eyes were big and blue, so doll-like they almost looked feminine. His skin was a medium shade, but his face had a remarkable layer.

Before he exited, he kindly saluted the aged lifeguard so kindly my lungs sank watching. His beauty wreeked through his pores that I so willingly captured.

When I got home later today I had a spark flowing through me that could compare to the hatching of a robin’s egg. I ate dinner silently in my room trying to conclude what miraculous change has become of me. I was soon distracted by a program on television that involved the worlds most deadliest spiders, and then I fell fast asleep.

I was dreaming I was a flower child covered in knitted colors. I was about 8 years old and the rest of the world seemed so far out of reach. Content in my life, I confronted violence with a hug.

The friend I was drawn to was more of a sister and we danced in the peddles of the field. Swinging around freely and no amount of rain could break us apart. A mutual understanding of what its like to be each others greatest excitement.

But then a horse-like figure blew out of the clouds. An eye-less creature who had the ugliest shade of coat. he stung our vibrations, using a tranquil surmise. I felt fear, and then I felt nothing.

He grabbed me and said “ill take you or ill take your friend”, with such a raspy tone. I cried out for help and then I screamed no more. I turned toward my pal, who was shaken so still, I turned to the creature and said “take me, if you will”.

The horse sneered, a cackle that shrieked with laughter. He said “you must know your next days wont be happily ever after.”

“I’m aware sir, I said almost in a whisper. Will you give me one last chance to say goodbye to my sister?”

“I suppose stupid one, you are so ignorant I see.”

I chimed in, “I couldn’t watch her get struck by evil, id rather it be me.”

So I grabbed my friend so tight, and said my goodbye, I held her close and I studied the soul of her eyes.


I woke up in a haze then, dreadfully tired. My face was wet with tears that had drenched my pillow. I was scared and alone, the combination made my lips tremble and I reached for a familiar object to comfort my lonesomeness. The first thing I could find was a rugged old stuffed puppy that my deceased grandfather bought me when I was 6. A decade and a half later the once white fur, has turned to a grungy tan. I held it pressed up to my chest and sobbed about something I didn’t quite know.

I went to the library today, I was on a search of in depth books about The Hopi emergence legend, that was previewed in the note I attained the day at the reservation. I gathered a few different titles and sat myself down at a near by desk.

Before I indulged in the realities of the print, I strained my brain for any relevance about the wise one directly saying what he said about it being in my dream. Did he mean a past dream, or a dream to come, or a dream I thirst?

I then analyzed the nightmare from days ago. I thought of ’my sister’ in the dream as a symbol for my needed affection. An unattainable bond that I used to have so directly.

The dark horse as the storm that inevitably catches us all, making us choose between ourselves and the one you care most about.

Then me, self sacrificing in the wheel of love. Oh, what people
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