World behind my wall part 2.

The walk home from the restaurant was awful, but it was absolutely relieving to be back home. I took a very hot shower to relax a bit and wash off the strong smell of cologne. Truly, I was just glad that I was home, and safe. No thanks to my "courteous" date of the night. My dad pretty much just assumed that the reason tonight was such a disaster was something that I did wrong and he probably wasn't such a terrible boy, but again he was off just a few facts. I stared at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes carefully traced every contour of my face. I was so proud of my beautiful mocha brown skin. It's one of the many things that separated me from the tiny world of Barrington I lived in. So peculiar, such a quiet "respected" neighborhood being the suburb of Chicago. Which, as we all know is a larger city and simply just not... quaint. Chicago produced criminals of all variety, fashion designers, artists and.... of course musicians. But what the well off suburbs of Chicago produced were awkward families. These families grew up to produce awkward sons and daughters as well as awkward girls named Marissa. Helloooo life. I changed into some rather comfortable boxer shorts and a tank top to match and hopped into my twin bed. It was a long process as always moving the plethora of stuffed teddy bears and pillows off of my mattress and onto my floor. My parents attempted to spoil me. Just another result of being an only child. One, perfect, planned, daughter... I sighed and closed my eyes ready to escape the day. I was fed up with putting up with... well everything. Just because I came from a privileged home, doesn't mean I don't suffer as much as any. Money had softened my spirit as well as my coping and communication skills. I tried to push the negative thoughts away and happily drifted to sleep. Far too peaceful in the unconscious state.

The next morning, I awoke to vicious thunder gashing my eardrums wide open. I gasped and sat up startled and then scoffed looking out my window, angry that I lost sleep over some common force of nature. I turned and fell back onto my pillow and mattress, bouncing from the force of my enthusiasm to fall back asleep. I had just fully settled into my pillow, thinking about whatever pleasant fictional thoughts would come when they were terribly disrupted.
"Marissa, Breakfast is ready sweetie."
Always so bubbly and excited easily. This was my mother's voice floating up the steps to my room. I opened my door. Five steps right, 22 steps down, 7 steps left and then straight ten steps to my seat at the family dining table. My mother was busy away in the kitchen finishing up her light and fluffy pancakes. There was already a porcelain white plate in front of me when I sat down. Steaming scrambled eggs, Bacon and biscuits with gravy patiently waiting for my mouth to savour their tenderness. My mouth was just as eager. It'd been almost a day since I'd eaten. I looked across the table at my father, eyebrows furrowed, buried in that mornings paper. My mother hurried over with the pan of pancakes. Her heals were clicking as she made her way over.
"Good Morning." She smiled at me exuberantly with her radiant white teeth. She already had a fresh coat of burgundy lipstick, mascara and tan eye shadow on. She was wearing a billowing black dress and pears. Her wedding ring glistened in the kitchen light. I glanced over at the clock on the oven.... It was just past 8 in the morning. My family was a football player away from being rather picture perfect. Absolutely disgusting.
"Morning." I replied rather half hearted. She hugged me, almost burning me with the frying pan. She served everyone pancakes and then sat down. She attempted to make some conversation but truly lost my participation when the subject of last night came up. She was the only one who really made an attempt to fix what was really left of the contents of our abode. She usually lost but it was just more natural this way. She gave up for today after my stand-offish responses made her retreat to making conversation about the economy with my father. As if their wallets were affected at all. Ugh. I just couldn't take anymore so I got up to leave but my father stopped me.
"And just where do you think you're going little lady?"
"I was going to go to my room."
"Well, unfortunately you are grounded."
WHAT?! Grounded, what'd I do?"
"You were late for curfew last night. Don't think I forgot. And your mother and I were going out into the town today, but we don't want to leave you here alone so you're coming with us."
"But, I was only late because the date you set me up with last night was a total cretin! I shouldn't even be grounded in the first place. Plus it's storming outside, I just wanna go back to bed. I'm not going to get into much trouble when I'm asleep."
"Nice try, but you're going. Now go upstairs and get ready. We're leaving soon."

They won. All the perfect logic, and expressing in the world I could do, did nothing to convince them of my innocence. So here I was, walking through aisles of fabric stores, nick knacks, frilly dresses, and of course.... beloved stores for the rich folks to better their interiors. Wonderful. Minutes slowly turned to hours and just when I thought they'd never tire of looking at the same old brocade patters and debating about weather the couches were made of real or fake leather, my mother voiced that she had once more grown hungry. The three of us piled into our car and went on the hunt for a restaurant. I stared out of the window, putting my body somewhere else than this re-upholstered nightmare. Too bad my phone was taken from me, or maybe I'd be able to secretly text my friends from the backseat without my parents caring too much about how there I really was. The car turned a few times and then came to a stop as did the quiet chatter between my parents. I looked up and my heart stopped. We were at the exact same restaurant that I was at last night. I sighed and unlatched my seat belt and hopped out of the car trudging along beside my mother.
"Are you doing alright? I hope last night wasn't as bad as it looked."
"Dad, I already told you... I don't have a problem with the world, it's the world that has a problem with me."
"What?" came my fathers voice from across the table.
I looked up at his extremely confused face.
"So did it turn out better?" I turned and looked to see the same waiter from last night with the scribbled name that read "Bill". Perhaps it was the atmosphere of last night but I truly didn't' realize how beautiful he was. And he had some kind of subtle accent.
"Um. I... yeah." Making a fool of myself. I wish I could just never come to conclusions. "After I got home everything seemed to relax a ton."
"I'm glad. I like happy endings and I guess that was yours." He gave me a sincere smile then turned to face my parents.
"My name is Bill, and I will be your server tonight. Is there anything I can get for you folks to start off with?"
Throughout the rest of the sit down I spent my time not focusing on my food but looking out of the corner of my eye looking for bill. For some reason my hungry eyes couldn't get a good enough look at him. He didn't return for quite sometime so I figured that I could risk a quick trip to the bathroom. I bumped unexpectedly into something on my way out of the bathroom doorway.
"Oh excuse me, I'm not that good at evasive action to objects that appear out of nowhere." Another cute crooked smile.
"That's alright, it was my fault anyway." I tried to laugh as casually as possible.
"You know, you really shouldn't be in relationships with people who abandon you so readily. I feel rude prying but... it just seems I should."
"Well, thanks for the concern but I'm not stupid enough to be dating that prick!."
"Is this an insulting word? You'll have to excuse some of my ignorant questions, I'm not from around here exactly."
"Oh yeah, it's not exactly a nice word to call someone, but he fits the description rather well. Where are you from exactly? I noticed you had an accent. I'm not trying to be rude or anything. I'm just fascinated by speech."
"Well, my family is from Germany actually. But I'm doing a student exchange program right now with my twin brother."
"Ah very cool. That sounds very interesting. My friends is pretty good at German, I bet you two would get along."
"Well, actually. I don't know how boys act in America --though hopefully not like the guy you were with last night-- but, I think I'd like to get to know you better. That is if you are compliant. I guess... I'm asking for your number?"
He asked very shyly, saying the last few words like a true question. I stopped and stared for a few moments before I realized what was happening.
"Oh! yeah, just my dad took my phone away but I'll have back in a few days anyway."
I said it much more confidently than I thought it would've been. We exchanged numbers quickly, having forgotten about how long I'd been "in the bathroom".
"Schonen. Danke! oh oops. German sorry..." he looked rather apologetic.
"haha, it's ok. Bitte, right?"
"Ja, sehr gut...."
"Marissa. I'll see you around Bill. Tschus!


God I loved Steafene for her German lessons right now.



That night, I dreamed that I traveled to Germany with Steafene. There were two buildings on a platform, both extremely inviting. Steafene was there telling me that we could only choose one ancient castle to roam. In the doorway of the one on the right was Bill. He looked ravishing, like he was from another time all together. I started to walk towards him, craving that rushing heartbeat he gave me. But out of the corner of my eye, something about the grandeur of the castle on the left spoke to me. I stood in the middle of the two buildings, not knowing what to do. Steafene shook her head in disapproval of my inability to make a decision and turned. As she walked away from me down the cobblestone, I started to spin. My head felt heavy as gravity pulled upward and then the blackness hit before the poorly paved road did. And then I fell up, into consciousness.

World behind my wall part one.

"Sie war meine Freundin Tom." "Ich liebe sie, ist es nicht deine Job, um mich, Ihren Bruder zu respektieren?!?!" ("She was my girlfriend Tom." "I love her. Is it not your job to respect me, your brother?")

Everything, absolutely everything was boiling down to this one moment in my long-lived life at such a young age of 16. This one decision that could make me so happy turned out to be the hardest thing I had experienced. I thought it would've been so easy in the beginning and I wouldn't have had to think twice about it, but now my thoughts were at an official stand still. I look back and forth between their two faces. Their expressions told me that I hadn't long to defeat the impossible and just answer them. The source of all my troubles were of course like almost every other story out there... love. Such an intense and twisted love in fact that it was too much for one person to handle. It spilled over and entwined not two but three hearts as if our emotions were in a monsoon season. It was just like a midsummer night's dream, although there was nothing funny about our situation and there were no beautiful faeries to lust after. Sometimes I like to think about if Shakespeare knew that he was a psychic. See there's an obvious issue with being in love with two men when they love you back... There's TWO of them. It's completely unfair no matter how often one may have butchered his chances for full attention. The worst part of this unsettling love triangle is the fact that I loved two brothers, quite identical. Twins in fact, but they were two totally different people all together. I want you to understand why all this is happening, but you need to bear with me if you're willing to know the whole story. Before calling me a whore, or a slut or whatever it might be, just understand where this is all coming from. It won't be a simple thing to explain but, it might at least be interesting. If I could just remember where all of this started.

7 months prior.

I honestly think I can say this is the single worse outing I've ever experienced in the short time I've even had a love life. I stared at my date from across the wood bench that served as a table. I assumed that the glossy finish over the oak that used to be a tree was supposed to look well nice. Though, it made for uncomfortable seating with the roughly sanded knots and an unevenness that gave one the illusion of sliding out of their chair onto the dirty ground with peanut shells ground into the carpet by traffic of waiters. I couldn't hear him talking. Well I couldn't hear the words that he was saying. It was more of a low subtle humming in my ears that perfectly matched his lip movement that were a split second away from turning into a blur. I was sure he hadn't much more important to say since the most friendly he got tonight was in his car when he decided we didn't really need to go see a movie. He lost that one quickly. But here I am stuck with him to please my father who thought he'd be suitable for a upper-class teenager like myself. Dead wrong. My chicken salad sat in front of me untouched. The creamy french dressing in a small plastic container on the side just as sound as any of it's partners on the oval dim pearl coloured plate. I figured since he suggested I be an acceptable girl and order a salad instead of the steak that I was eyeing I might as well not eat and please him extra since that was "my goal of the night" so to speak. Besides the nausea in my gut was persistent tonight and I didn't feel like coaxing it into progressing to something far worse and more embarrassing. I shouldn't have expected much else of my father. He was a privileged white,--well he was white before he layed out in the "sun" for what looked like hours on end and turned into beef jerky.
Spiky yellow and clearly bleached unnatural hair, messily gelled into inch long spikes. Disgustingly perfect white teeth and equally disturbing body build. I was just wondering how many hours he spent in the gym trying to burst out of his pink polo that looked so tight he might have owned it from such a young age as when I learned to ride a bike without training wheels when something triggered my consciousness.
"So it turns out, I had something called mono sudo's avenge..."
"You mean Montezuma's revenge?" I didn't mean to speak but my subconscious bid me speak. I had studied the horrible European invasion for my last term paper. Infatuated with the irony in this disease. He took a bear of a bite out of his burger, and didn't bother to hardly even chew his food before he spoke next.
"Um, I'm pretty sure that's what I said... Anyway...." More humming. I sighed and let him continue his pointless rant. Just about another 20 minutes of this and I'd be back home. Comfortable and telling my few friends what a terrible experience this memory to be was. I wasn't exactly watching when it happened but I assumed he threw his burger onto his plate so vigorously that it shook the table. But all I know was that my coca-cola had toppled over and the thick stream was careening toward the edge and then spilled directly onto my unsuspecting lap. I flung myself away from the table and stood up as quickly as I possible could rather flabbergasted. He just chuckled a little, more than half a bite still lingered in his mouth. I tried brushing of the liquid as best as possible.
"HAHAH, you look ridiculous!"
"I bet you'd look ridiculous if I took what's left of your drink and..." I couldn't' help but mutter to myself.
"Hey, you should be thankful! I took you to a wonderful movie and a romantic restaurant, and I haven't gotten anything in return all night long except having to keep a conversation going with you. How about some appreciation girly?!"
"G-GIRLY!?! Listen here and listen good. Although you may not care, nice, respectable girls who still have a shred of humanity do not put out when just meeting a guy after the first five minutes of being together. Not even after, a horrible movie I had to buy a ticket to and some "romantic" restaurant outing. Being a girl who also respects herself I am NOT going home with you tonight but will in fact be taken home by curfew if you don't mind."
"Well, if that's really how you feel. Then I guess I'll be on my way...."
"What do you mean? You still have yet to drive me home... It's extremely ruthless to deny your date a ride back home. My father will be livid!"
"Well perhaps.... it's rude not to give thanks to such a nice guy such as myself."
And at that he walked away angrily. He drove off before I really even had a chance to absorb how upset I really was. I can't beleive someone can be so obnoxious! The waiter came over nervously.
"Um, I'm sure this is a terrible time... but the bill still hasn't been paid." You could tell he felt terrible about it so I held back the loud rant that was building up inside of me. His name tag said bill in sharpie, his messy handwriting in the four letters were so large they dominated the mandatory item.
"Well Bill, that's quite alright. After all of that I'm not too concerned with paying a little extra money." He looked extremely relived and I handed him my cash reluctantly. We gave each other weak smiles and he scurried off. I sighed and walked out of the restaurant where animals heads were dressed in scarves and hats scrutinizingly.