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10:00:00 PM EDT
Feeling Quiet
MISS SMELLGOOD
The first time I tried to run away from home was because I was in love with the Avon lady. Each time she visited she would sit me on her lap and play with baby curls that hadn't been cut yet. She simply sat there and emoted affection, while emitting fragrance, cuddling and adoring me, something that there hadn't been a lot of time for, even though I was an only child of two at the time of this event.
On this happy day she returned to bring my mother her order and she always brought me free samples, opening the little papers and rubbing them on my wrists Today she sat and chatted the same as she did many times. Often they talked for a long time so I figured that this was my opportunity. If she asked me one more time, "Do you want to go home with me? I'd just keep you," I had planned that I was going to say 'Yes'. I wanted to go away with her so much. I did not want to stay here with the fighting, the screaming, the silence and so much else that didn't feel right but I didn't know
While they were talking to each other, I slipped away from the living room and got a paper bag from under the kitchen sink and took it to my room without anyone noticing. Pulling with all my might on the bottom drawer of the dresser, it only opened just enough to get my hand in and pull some things out, one piece at a time. Fear of getting in trouble, coupled with an urgency that she might leave before I finished made me tremble. It felt like I was going slower instead of faster. Carelessly trying to fill the bag with everything I could get and terrified that Miss Smell Good would forget to take me, I stumbled and fell hard, landing on top of it, the bag ripping forever now, all my clothes scattered on the floor. I got up crying, trying to put my things back into the bag. She was going to leave me. I could hear her talking to my mother and I could just tell. Panic overtook my little heart. I wanted to be with her so badly, to ride away with her in the car, to be her little girl. "Please don't leave me here", my heart panicked. "Takeme with you," consumed my every thought.
Pushing the clothes back into the paper bag as fast as my two year old hands could manage, I heard and felt the bag rip loudly down one side, more of my things spilling out onto the hardwood floor. I could see her hand on the door, and hear her telling my mother goodbye. My heart was breaking. She didn't mean it. I was in disbelief. She was forgetting me. She wasn't going to take me after all.
"Please wait!" I called from the hallway, finally getting their attention. I ran in the living room as fast as I could leaving everything behind where I'd fallen. "Please take me!" I begged, my hands up in the air, wanting to be picked up, needing to be rescued from a house of horrors that I could not yet describe.
"You can't go with her!" My mother said firmly and coldly.
Miss Smellgood kneeled down and spoke to me softly and told me that she couldn't take me with her. She said other things too but I couldn't hear her or understand very much what she was trying to tell me. I just know that it meant I was staying here. I knew it meant I couldn't go with her. I didn't understand why she had changed her mind. I thought I could go with her. I didn't know what I had done wrong. As they spoke to each other, she ruffled my hair and laughed about it.
Miss Smellgood closed the door on all my chances of escape my heart broken, everything I own lay scattered out on the floor on a broken paper bag that I landed on.
I stared through the screen door as she got into her car. I was crying loudly now, beating on the door, "Please come back," I begged through sobs, "Take me! Take me! Take me!" She rolled up her windows and drove away, never to come back again. The spot where her car was parked was now empty space. She'd left me behind. I didn't get taken. I would have to stay and when that finality sank in, it made me cry even harder, slumping down on the floor in defeat. I looked up to see my angry mother staring at me with her hands on her hips. I would have to stay there.
Written by standsbyriver Blog about this entry |
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I have come by way of Magic Smoke. I am so sorry for what you had to endure. Even as a little child you knew something was so dreadfully awful. How horrible.
Krissy
http://journals.aol.com/fisherkristina/SometimesIThink -
The Avon ady probably realised that something was amiss, but what could she she do, abusers are very good at hiding what they do unfortunately.
Yasmin -
I wonder if the avon lady ralized what she was looking at, but then I know that it is extremely hard for outsides to do anything about abuse in the home. I do remember also watching out for my mother and thinking of her as the enemy and my dad as my protector, because he did not whip us and he did not molest me, but was close to two men who did, so there was some blame for him, too, but I thanked God he was there because he kept my mother in check better than anyone. I can see why this is so hard to write about, you are huntng different ways to do it. I hope this succeeds. You are starting off so strong. Gerry
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Your writing is VERY powerful and i am so glad i stumbled upon your new journal......so glad they have that "blog" button at the bottom of the page!
I felt as if i was right there with you as you told this story about that elusive Avon lady.
You are on my alerts now.
Hugs, lisa
7/4/08 10:06 AM
Keep writing...it is so freeing!
safe hugs,
Gwynn