Tenaciouswobblertacocop - Eshal - Tumblr Blog
just some lads, being fellows
poems that made me live in october
"Not that I'm going mad...", Joseph Brodsky
How Many Of Those Who You Can Share Your Bed With, Eduard Asadov
Aedh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven, W. B. Yeats
Good Bones, Maggie Smith
Adieu to Norman, Bon Jour to Joan and Jean-Paul, Frank O'Hara
Anders On Life, First Considerations by Nils Peterson
Mayakovsky by Frank O'Hara
Lilichka, Vladimir Mayakovski
Sleeping In The Forest, Mary Oliver
a vote for the gentle light, charles bukowski
There Is A Spell In Autumn Poem by Fyodor Ivanovich Tyutchev
On Raglan Road by Patrick Kavanagh
Darling, I left the house, Joseph Brodsky
A Work Of Art
A lovely work of art
An imprint of the heart
The picture of a smile
To last more than a while
Dreams to treasure evermore
Not be left outside the door
Strange shadow of a shroud
To veil the faces of the proud
Kindness, disguised to tempt
Honor, by a sword of contempt
It’s not easy to point a blame
if you can’t remember my name
Am I the knight, are you a dame
Truth and justice shall all depart
Till paints are scrapped off the art
©Johnny J P Lee
10 September 2024
Gogyoshiren Poem
Photos: J. P. Lee, paintings on my wall
(Artists Unknown)
On September 7th 1736, Captain Porteous was dragged from prison and lynched by an angry mob in Edinburgh.
I love when I can connect posts from previous days, if you remember this Thursdays post on Robert Fergusson birth date, in his poem The Daft Days, he mentions the ‘Black Banditti’ oh and the Aqua Vitae, is of course whisky!
And thou, great god of Aqua Vitae!
Wha sways the empire of this city,
When fou we’re sometimes capernoity,
Be thou prepar’d
To hedge us frae that black banditti,
The City Guard.
Captain John Porteous, was a Scottish soldier and Captain of the Edinburgh City or Town Guard, the old “police” force of auld reekie. The story of the unfortunate Porteous starts in January 1736 when three men, Andrew Wilson, William Hall and George Robertson, were charged with smuggling and attempting to rob Collector of Excise, James Stark at the Pittenween Inn, Fife.
All three men were initially faced with the Grassmarket gallows, though William Hall had his sentence revoked for returning King’s Evidence against his fellow conspirators. Judgment day for Andrew Wilson and George Robertson was set for 14 April. A few days before the execution date Robertson managed to escape his fate, leaving Wilson alone to face the hangman’s noose.
The following is from Edinburgh Poet, Allan Ramsay, (who I also mention on Thursday as Fergussons “muse”) for a first hand account of the events……..“
A true and faithfull account of the Hobleshaw [riot] that happened in Edinburgh, Wednesday, the 14th of Aprile 1736 at the hanging of Wilson, housebreaker.
On the Sunday preceeding viz the 11th, the two condemn’d criminalls Wilson and Robertson were taken as usual by four sogers [soldiers] out of prison to hear their last sermon and were but a few minutes in their station in the Kirk when Wilson who was a very strong fellow took Robertson by the head band of his breeks and threw him out of the seat, held a soger fast in each hand and one of them with his teeth, while Robertson got over and throw the pews, push’d o'er the elder and plate at the door, made his escape throw the Parliament Close down the back staire, got out of the Poteraw [Potterrow] Port before it was shut, the mob making way and assisting him, got friends, money and a swift horse and fairly got off nae mair to be heard of or seen. This made them take a closer care of Wilson who had the best character of them all (til his foly made him seek reprisals at his own hand), which had gaind him so much pity as to raise a report that a great mob would rise on his execution day to relieve him, which noise put our Magistrates on their guard and maybe made some of them unco flayd [unusually afraid] as was evidenced by their inviting in 150 of the Regement that lys [lies] in Cannongate, who were all drawn up in the Lawn Market, while the criminal was conducted to the tree by Captain Porteous and a strong party of the City Guard. All was hush, Psalms sung, prayers put up for a long hour and upwards and the man hang’d with all decency & quietnes. After he was cut down and the guard drawing up to go off, some unlucky boys threw a stone or two at the hangman, which is very common, on which the brutal Porteous (who it seems had ordered his party to load their guns with ball) let drive first himself amongst the inocent mob and commanded his men to folow his example which quickly cleansed the street but left three men, a boy and a woman dead upon the spot, besides several others wounded, some of whom are dead since. After this first fire he took it in his head when half up the Bow to order annother voly & kill’d a taylor in a window three storys high, a young gentleman & a son of Mr Matheson the minister’s and several more were dangerously wounded and all this from no more provocation than what I told you before, the throwing of a stone or two that hurt no body. Believe this to be true, for I was ane eye witness and within a yard or two of being shot as I sat with some gentlemen in a stabler’s window oposite to the Galows. After this the crazy brute march’d with his ragamuffins to the Guard, as if he had done nothing worth noticing but was not long there till the hue and cry rose from them that had lost friends & servants, demanding justice. He was taken before the Councill, where there were aboundance of witnesses to fix the guilt upon him. The uproar of a mob encreased with the loudest din that ever was heard and would have torn him, Council and Guard all in pices [pieces], if the Magistrates had not sent him to the Tolbooth by a strong party and told them he should be tried for his life, which gave them some sattisfaction and sent them quietly home. I could have acted more discreetly had I been in Porteous’s place.”
A total of 9 were reported to have been killed and at least 20 wounded by the City Guard. Porteous was arrested the same afternoon and charged with murder. He was tried at the High Court of Justiciary on 5 July 1736. There was no shortage of enthusiastic witnesses to testify against Porteous’ actions. The jury, no doubt spurred on by the mob gathered outside, did not hesitate in finding him guilty, and he was sentenced to hang on September 8th.
When the news reached London, Prime Minister, Sir Robert Walpole managed to secure Porteous a Royal Pardon. Porteous was still being held at the Tolbooth, the history is a bit vague about why, I surmise it may have been for his own safety, as there is mention of the guards being increased at the old gaol leading up to the day in question.
A 4,000 strong mob took to the streets of Edinburgh. A total lockdown was ordered by the City Guard and all gates, including the Netherbow Port were closed – shutting out many troops stationed outside of the town. The enraged mob made their way to the prison and set the doors ablaze, Porteous attempted to flee but was eventually grabbed by force and dragged up the Lawnmarket, then down along the West Bow towards the Grassmarket where Andrew Wilson had met his end. Porteous was strung up on a dyer’s pole and brutally lynched until he ceased to move. The government would later declare a reward of £200 for any information of those responsible for Captain Porteous’ murder, but none of those guilty would ever be found.
Sir Walter Scott’s famous novel The Heart of Midlothian written in 1818 would later recall the events in great detail.
If visiting Edinburgh and you find yourself in Greyfriars Kirkyard you can find Captain Porteous’s grave is towards the west wall, once a year the re-enactors of the Town Guard pay “respects” to the man there.
The pics are "The Porteous Mob" by James Drummond, The Porteous Riots, A Scene from the Heart of the Midlothian by James Skene and The Porteous Mob by Stanley Cursiter.
You can find a contemporary account of the Porteous affair here from the excellent Newgate Calendar https://www.exclassics.com/newgate/ng187.htm
Right Where You Left Me
Pt 2: Jailbird
Ellie Williams x reader
I want to write a poem about you but I’m afraid it won’t be enough. I almost feel ashamed that I want you to fit into a word because we both know that you are beyond anything that can be put on paper.
Premise: You and Ellie were childhood friends before you drifted apart. Funny thing about soulmates is that they tend to find there way back to each other. While you both visit home for winter break, events unfold and it is no longer possible to avoid each other.
Warnings: Angst / homophobia / brief violence / reader has religious issues
Part one here!
Part three here!
Part four here!
I may have been wrong to say that I could never hate Ellie. Fuck she was vicious, in the most passive-aggressive way too. She's so sly about it that I can't even get mad without seeming irrational.
Winter break finally rolled around and I had yet to make any progress with Ellie it was whatever the opposite of progress is. If she wanted to hate me, that was fine, I could do the same, I could be petty. It's now December and all of this bullshit started in September, she could hardly be courteous.
Fuck her.
I had survived mid-terms and finals but the way Ellie was acting had me skipping happily towards the edge. She will wash a whole sink of dishes and leave just my fork, or Venmo request me if I ate one of her grapes. Everything had gotten worse when Dina, Abby, and Cat all left to visit their families for winter break leaving just Ellie and I, without the girls there to hold us to the house rules we were at each other's throats.
She was foaming at the fucking mouth to tear me apart. There was no level-headed Abby or fun-loving Dina, not even Cat who was just mellow. Just me and Ellie verbally abusing each other. "Fuck off, with your wild animal teeth," I spat, slamming the dish cupboard closed with a loud thud.
"Wild animal teeth?" She repeats "Wow, you're getting creative, I'll give you that," Ellie's gaze held a certain bitterness "Heard you were on your knees again last night and I don't mean praying."
My eye almost twitches at her words and it takes everything in me not to throw a ceramic bowl at her. I hated her, I hated her freckled face, and eyes as sharp as knives, just hearing her raspy voice, and seeing her sardonic smile made me want to keel over and let the earth wrap me in her flourishing greenery. I often wanted that to happen. I was trying to refrain from going home as I didn't want to spend the entire break with my family but I was starting to think nothing was better than this, I was set to leave the following day (Christmas Eve) anyway but I was seconds away from grabbing my bag and jumping into my car. "Can you just learn to be fucking civil?"
"Why would-
"Because we were sixteen years old when that stupid shit happened!" I spat "You're holding a grudge from when we were sixteen," I reiterated, searching her features for some sign that I'd gotten through to her.
"It's not like you've changed since any of that happened." She stands, unnervingly calm on the other side of the kitchen island. "You were always awful since we were young, always crying, always emotional, always explosive, my dad said you're like a birch tree, one spark and you burst into flames."
"Fuck off."
"You always had to have the attention," Her eyebrows furrow "Nothing was your fault, blame being fucking erratic and insane on your parents."
"You don't know my parents half as well as you think you do."
"What don't I know about them? They've been in my life as long as you have."
"Ellie, stop," I say, suddenly I'm taken away from the mood to fight, I just want to scream into my pillow.
"What?" She asks "You're going to say some shit like 'they aren't loving' or 'you wouldn't get it' Please, enlighten me, what wouldn't I get?" She moves closer just an inch or so "Wow, your life sounds so hard, you have two parents who love each other and a huge fucking house, oh shit," Sarcasm drips from her tone "Maybe it's that trust fund that's taking a toll on you."
"Please, stop."
"You could commit every crime known to man and you would still be their pride and joy, there is nothing you could say or do that would make them hate you-
"Here we go with your 'life is so fucking hard and I'm edgy and indie and I have a sad backstory that I'll bring up every second sentence even though I was seven when it happened' " I mock her.
She bites the inside of her cheek and I can tell that I've struck a nerve "You know when my lease-
"Don't even worry about it," I move out from the kitchen and begin towards my room, Ellie's eyes are trailing me "The minute my lease is up, I'm packing my shit and moving into student housing so I won't have to look at your fucking face while I'm eating!" I slam my bedroom door behind me.
I left that night, I couldn't bear the sound of her guitar strums, so repetitive it made me want to slam my head through the drywall.
You better believe that I cried my entire way home while blasting Julien Baker. My mother was pleasantly surprised to see me at her doorstep a day early, I knew Ellie would be coming down sometime tomorrow to spend the Holidays with her family, I didn't know when, I just knew that I didn't want to see her.
I never even told my parents that Ellie was my roommate and they hadn't heard it from Joel as they drifted when Ellie and I were fifteen.
My bedroom was exactly how I left, I cuddled into my twin bed that night sinking into the absolute silence of the the snowfall, with my dog Dusty curled at my side. I always loved the snow, the way it acted as soundproofing for the earth, when I was little I would just sit in the backyard so I could hear the birds sing in their purest and truest form.
Christmas Eve was dull to begin with, to say the least; my mom made Christmas tree-shaped waffles as she did every year, I was then dragged to an excruciatingly long church sermon. When we returned home I was sent to shovel the driveway, turns out visiting home from college doesn't excuse you from chores. I knew Ellie had arrived when I saw her grey sedan in Joel's driveway as well as Tommy's Range Rover. Bundled up in mittens and a hand-knitted scarf that Naomi gave to me I felt really tough giving the middle finger to Ellie wherever she was in Joel's house.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Elijah was cackling in the doorway. Dusty I happily bounding through the snow, paying to mind to my brother.
I immediately dropped my arm, trying to play nonchalantly "Uh, shoveling the driveway?"
His laughter only grew "You look so stupid," He huffed between cackles "You're standing in a foot of snow in the driveway giving Mr. Miller's house the middle finger in your cute little mitts."
"Say that louder, no one could hear you," I say, sarcastically.
"Hear ye, hear ye-
My eyes go wide and I drop the shovel to form a snowball and deck it at my brother "Shut up!"
"Ow!" He flinches, and his track and field hoodie from high school is now covered in powdered sleet. "Whatever," He yanks his hoodie off to shake the snow off of it "Just finish the driveway so we can watch a movie or something, I haven't seen you in months, Naomi and Aaron haven't shut up about you all holiday break."
I give him a mitted thumbs up before I try to speed run the shovelling, albeit slipping on black ice more than a few times. When I came back inside, I needed to change, my parka was dripping with snow that had melted into water.
I bundle up into sweatpants and an old soccer t-shirt. Being in my old room digs up memories pinned on my wall with bright thumbtacks year after year of photos of my soccer team, in every single one Ellie and I have our arms slung over each other. We're smiling wide and not focusing on the camera but on one another. I tear the picture away from the thumbtacks and throw them into a random shoe box that sits at the bottom of my closet. After that, I take down every artifact I have of Ellie, the drawings she made me, drafts of songs we wrote together, and t-shirts she left in my drawers, I throw it all into a Rubbermaid storage bin.
Though I leave the little wood carvings that Joel made for me alone.
My family's famous Christmas Eve dinner rolled around and I couldn't believe how excited I was, I'm not the best cook and despite me and my mother going through spats every other day, she was one hell of a good chef and I had spent months craving her honey roasted carrots and creamy mashed potatoes.
Please don't judge me when I say this, but we are the family that dresses up for dinners at home. Nothing black tie, just something a little dapper, one time I wore jeans to our family dinner and I was grounded for a week.
I finished zipping up my white sundress and I let my little sister tie a matching bow into my hair, when she saw what I was wearing she changed into her white dress which was ankle length while mine fell right above my knees.
"Oh, my sweet girls are matching again," My mom fawns over us "Let me get a picture of this cute little moment," I smile for the picture, and Naomi does the same, hooking an arm around my midriff. "Adorable," Mom looks at the picture before tucking her phone into her pocket "Now girls, please set the table."
Even though I hadn't been at home for months, setting the table was like muscle memory to me, Naomi put the placemats down, and then I did the dinner plate and salad plate, Naomi would place the napkins and cutlery then I would set glasses and pour everyone water from the pitcher. By the time we finished setting the table everyone aside from my mother and Elijah were at the table, early awaiting what was sure to be a filling dinner.
Slowly but surely my mom brought the dishes with Elijah, placing them all through the center of the dining table. After everything was placed my father, who sits at the head of the table cleared his throat, that was his signal for everyone to join hands. "Dear God, We gather today with grateful hearts to thank you for this food before us. We appreciate the effort and resources that have provided us with this nourishment. May this meal sustain our bodies and remind us of the many blessings in our lives. We are thankful for the love of family and friends who surround us and for the abundance we enjoy. Bless this food, our time together, and those who prepared it. May it strengthen us physically and spiritually. This is your body, this is your love. We thank you for feeding us with your gracious hands. In Jesus' name, we give thanks and pray. Amen."
"Amen," My family repeats before we all ravishingly fill our plates with chicken, maple-roasted mushrooms, buttered green beans, bread rolls, and mashed potatoes. I was eating so fast, I was shocked that I didn't spill anything on myself.
"So, have you met any cute boys at college?" My mother asks me, she is the only one eating politely "I'm sure you could get a real smart guy with those looks of yours."
My father nods "Just make sure he's Christian."
"Or catholic," My mother adds.
I laugh awkwardly in response, I take a sip of my water, the condensation making it slippery in my hands. Elijah gives me an odd look that goes unnoticed by my parents.
"I think we should drop off some bread or cookies or something to the Miller's, just something to say hi while Tommy and Maria are still there." My mom tells us, she isn't speaking to anyone in particular.
"Is Ellie there right now?" Aaron asks.
Elijah shrugs "Probably, her car is in the driveway."
Now Naomi is looking at me "We should invite her over for New Year's or something if she's staying for the rest of break."
My dad shakes his head "I don't know if that's a good idea," All eyes fall on him "It's just- I think she's a bit of a bad influence." He takes a swig of his wine and attempts to suppress a burp but fails. I press my lips into a thin line and look down at my plate to hold in my laughter, Elijah does the same beside me.
"I don't remember Ellie being a bad influence," Aaaron furrows his eyebrows, racking his brain to think of a time that she had done their family wrong.
"It's just that there were rumours of her having-" My father searches for the words "Unnatural tendencies I suppose, and I tried to talk to Joel about it but he got defensive and said that she didn't need fixing, that's how I lost my best fishing buddy."
My mom looks at the discomfort on all of her children's faces "I mean, we all need a bit of fixing."
Dad is quick to catch on "Oh, yeah, of course, I mean it's not just Ellie," He fumbles over his words "And it's not her fault that she's that way, I think It's because she lost her mother when she was young so she got confused about the parental roles, Joel never remarried and he didn't date around much so Ellie didn't have a proper mother figure, it's not her fault she's a dyke and there's still time to fix it if she wants to choose the right path."
Stillness falls over the table, I had never heard silence quite this loud. Even my mother is at a loss for words. All of my siblings are darting our eyes at one another, we don't utter a single word but we understand each other clearly 'Dad actually said it'.
He noticed this and tried to backtrack on his words "I'm not a bad guy, I mean we've all read the bible cover to cover, we know it's a sin. I'll wrap this up, you all know that we love you no matter what and all I'm saying is I'm glad we could distance ourselves away from it."
"Hey Dad, did you watch the Canucks game last week?" Elijah swoops in to change the topic. It's too late, a wave of sickness has already overtaken me.
While my family discusses nothing in particular, trying to ignore what Dad said, I am sick to my stomach, I push my plate away and prop my elbow the the table for my hand to support my head. I am nearly shaking. My dull eyes peer across the table and meet my father's drowsy gaze.
"Honey, are you feeling alright?" My mom pauses whatever conversation she is enwrapped in.
I don't respond, I don't know how.
My family's eyes find a resting place on my figure. Mom pushes herself away from her chair and walks over to me, she places one hand between my shoulder blades, the other takes my cold hand and she slowly rubs a circle on my back to comfort me. "Sweetness, whatever is repressed inside, say it, let it out, we're all family."
Naomi nods in agreement, her wide eyes full of concern. "I don't know how to say it," I tell them.
"Air it out," My dad says, finishing off his glass of wine and pouring himself another "Today is the perfect day, tomorrow is the birth of Jesus, a fresh start."
My heart is racing faster than it ever has before, faster than when I broke my wrist in Ellie's backyard or when I had been on a rollercoaster for the first time. "I like girls," I say, my voice is quiet, and my three words take my family with silence. My mother freezes and takes a step back, her comforting hands leaving me.
"You're joking," My dad scoffs "Tell me this is a joke and you're normal."
"I can't," My voice cracks and I can already tell that the tears are oncoming. I think briefly back to Ellie's words 'There is nothing you could say or do that would make them hate you' if only she could see what was about to happen.
"All of those sleepovers with Ellie?" He is disgusted, his face contorting with horror "Were you dating her?"
"no-
"How can I believe anything you say, you lied to us for nineteen years when you knew you were sick."
"Dad, I'm not sick-
"How many sinful acts have you done under this roof?"
"None, I swear," I shake my head, it took less than a minute for me to be filled with regret at my words. I shouldn't have even come home for the holidays, actually, I never should've found Dina's listing and jumped at the deal.
"Get out," Any light tone in my dad's voice is gone, replaced by pure resentment.
"What?"
"You heard me, get out."
"Dad, it's Christmas Eve-
"Get out!" His voice rumbles through the dining room like thunder "I thought we fixed this phase when we sent you to boarding school."
"Please, dad-
"Get up and get out or I'm going to make you,"
"Fine- make me," Tears prick in my eyes but I cross my arms trying to muster up that false coolness Ellie is so good at feigning.
My dad slams his glass down so hard that it shakes the table, and the partially empty wine bottle my parents had been nursing all night is knocked over by the abruption, tipping over the deep red liquor to travel down the tablecloth and drip onto what was once my pure white dress. "Get up!" He grabs a fistful of my hair and I scream from the shock of pain. He yanks me off my chair and my face slams against the hardwood when his arm slumps, impact heavy from the sudden drop, it doesn't take long for my nose to start bleeding. He drags me to the door pushing it open; my siblings don't do anything they're petrified in horror and my mother begins to cry, covering her eyes from the scene before her.
My dad doesn't stop at the door, I thrash on the ground and he pulls me over both of my hands trying to pry his away from the roots of my hair, he drags me into the snow, finally releasing me. I shake as my hand gently finds the way to my burning scalp where I fully believe he has pulled out clumps of my hair with his harsh and unforgiving grasp.
From the doorway the rest of my family watches, Naomi has a hand covering her mouth her doe eyes brimming with tears of her own. My father disappeared into the house, it didn't take long to see what he was doing he slammed the window to make the bedroom open and began to throw all of my belongings out of the window. My pictures, my old soccer uniform, armfuls of clothes from my old beaten dresser, candles, books, paints, and shredded posters were torn straight off my wall.
"Dad, stop, I'm sorry, I'll get better!" I am on my knees, hands clasped together pleading with him. My skin is burning from the contact with the snow, I know that it must be a horrific sight to behold. White sundress, stained with wine, tangled hair, red-tinged skin, puffy eyes and incoherent sobs.
The snow makes everything so quiet the only sound travelling through the night are my sobs. I can no longer see my father in my bedroom, he is coming back down and somehow that is worse, he pushes past my family and throws the presents I was supposed to receive on Christmas morning beside me, I flinch at the movement.
"I'm sorry!" I plead like I'm bargaining with the Grimm Reaper for my life "Give me a job and I'll do it, just tell me what to do to get better!" The screaming carries through the night, alerting the neighbours in what was supposed to be a calm and quiet neighbourhood. Across the street, Joel turns on his porch light, squinting his eyes at the scene on the opposing lawn and trying to make sense of it. "I want to get better!" I shake with every sob. I could hear my dogs barking from the loud noises.
My dad shakes his head "You're too far gone, I didn't raise a fucking dyke," He is almost crying himself, he doesn't mourn for the daughter that he has but the daughter that could've been. The daughter who donned white every Sunday for church and settled down with a nice family man, a daughter who was holy but in this moment I am the purest form of holiness, born again from the violence of my father.
"Dad, I was created in God's image, why would he create his child to be this way if it was so wrong?"
"You're a fucking mistake is what you are," He seethes "Get off my property or I'm calling the cops."
"You still have my bags!" I scream and I watch him retreat to get them "Are you going to do anything at all?" I search my family for any sign of life but they all avert their eyes from mine. My father comes back out, and he throws my purse and suitcase on the lawn, this time both of them hit me, talking about kicking someone when they're down.
My dad begins to usher the family inside "I never want to see you again, get your ass up and start working, I'm not paying for you to fuck around with women instead of getting an education."
"That's it?" I cry "You won't come to my wedding or meet my kids? What about my funeral?"
"Not as long as you're with a woman." With that, he slams the door behind him and locks it. I let out another guttural sob, I've already cried so much that it's beginning to hurt within my stomach. I take a deep and shaky breath in, wiping the tears away from my eyes with my freezing hands, I'm sure to catch hypothermia if I don't warm up. I look up to see my neighbours all around either watching from their window or in the Miller family's case, the front porch. I'm sure that someone has already called the police.
"Let me in, I'm sorry!" I scramble off the ground and begin to bang on the door. Shaking the handle "Let me in!" This goes on for longer than I would've liked, I hammer on the door and scream as loud as I can but they all ignore me. Eventually, I stand by the window and slam my hands on it "Let me in or give me my fucking dog, you can't take care of him!"
I knew I was fucked when I heard sirens. It only made sense for the neighbours to call the cops at this disturbance.
I'm going to do you all a favour and tell you some useful information; when the police arrive and you don't wanna seem guilty, don't try to drive away from the scene because you might just end up getting handcuffed and shoved into the back of a police car for your childhood bestfriends family to watch from their front row seats.
"Prison life isn't for me," I wallow as I press myself against the bars of the holding cell. There are two other women in the cell with me and they both snigger. One of their names is Lucia, and she has bronze skin and brown hair so dark that it almost looks black with gold hoop earrings the size of my head, I don't know the other woman's name but she looks significantly older and has stringy blonde hair, the wrinkles of her face drooping.
"Honey, this isn't prison, you'll live another hour," Lucia sits on the uncomfortable bench, her arms crossed, she's kind of hot to be blunt.
"You reek of liquor though," Blondie cackles and I catch a glimpse of her rotting yellow teeth, what's the opposite of pearly whites? Golden nuggets? Something like that.
"Because I got wine spilled on me," I retort. I had been crying before they even placed me in the cell, wailing so loud that I was annoying the officers. I was so upset and starved for affection that I hugged the officer who detained me, babbling incoherently about how my life was ruined, I don’t even blame them for arresting me, I looked like a crackhead trying to break into a nice suburban home. “I'm not drunk."
"Could've fooled me," Lucia smirks, she's wearing a black tank top and skinny jeans. I wasn't a fan of skinny jeans but she was converting me.
I fell asleep hugging myself on one of the uncomfortable metal benches with chipped blue paint, when I woke up, it was Christmas, even though it didn't feel like it. I saw the snowfall outside of the windows on the other side of the cells. Lucia had told me just before she was released that they had the right to hold you longer over holidays, I wanted to weep all over again.
Blondie got removed from the cell too and I was all alone. The only thing that kept me sane was pretending I was Katniss or Lucy Gray, if they had survived the Hunger Games, I could survive this. I genuinely thought my life was over and I was getting sent to prison for hammering on my dad's door and screaming.
With each hour that ticked by, my profound sense of loneliness only grew. The sounds of distant laughter flitted through the hall and I am reminded of the world that lies beyond the metal bars. I wonder what my family is doing at this moment, every voice that I hear acts as a reminder of the love I had jeopardized. I lost Ellie, I lost Conner, and now I had lost my family.
I think about praying to god for a moment though I discard the thought. If he was real why did he let that happen to me? Maybe forgiveness and redemption were not necessary.
"Crybaby, call someone to pick you up," Officer Reid who initially arrested me and interrogated me began to unlock the cell, "Charges are dismissed." He had been calling me Crybaby since I was stuffed in the back of the police car and wailing uncontrollably.
"Like for real?"
He was in fact, for real. I was brought to a landline phone and my hands acted faster than my head, dialling the number of someone I would trust with my life, I just prayed that the number hadn't changed.
After making my call I was told to go to a weird booth thing to collect my effects, where an old and very judgmental woman dumped my few belongings out of an envelope. I wish I knew the technical names for this stuff but it's not like I've been arrested before this one off occasion. She looked at each of the items, stating what it was while she took inventory of it. "Smartphone, lipgloss, a single gold earring, and a cross necklace," She marks something down and then turns the paper around and holds out a blue pen for me to take "Sign here."
My phone had died already, I was missing an earring, and the cross had failed me, all I had left to rely on was my cover girl lipgloss. I sat in that stark grey room for what seemed like hours, everyone seemed miserable as I am, at least I wasn't the only person having a not-so-merry Christmas.
Holy shit, I was still disgusting. I was sticky and freezing, still in the wine-ruined white dress, there was still dried blood on my face despite my pestering Lucia to help me get it off. My hair is tangled, the bow that my sister had tied in lost somewhere in the snow. I haven't looked in a mirror but I know I look rough from the side glances that everyone is casting me. I can't imagine the dark bags beneath my red, puffy eyes to be any sort of appealing.
The sterile waiting room is beginning to get on my nerves, I flinch at every movement and hold onto hope that every person walking through the door is the person I'm waiting on. I try my best to avert my eyes from the clock so time doesn't drag on any longer than it already is.
By the time Joel gets here, the sun is beginning to set, his eyes frantically search the room until they land on me, I'm already standing up and walking toward him. "Kiddo, are you okay?"
My lip quivers and it feels like every awful thing I've ever felt is going to seep through my teeth. My head falls onto his chest but this time I don't cry, I think I've run out of tears "I have nothing ahead of me."
Joel doesn't ask questions, he just hugs me in return, resting his chin on the top of my head, there is the comfort I had been so desperately searching for.
He signs release papers and he guides me to his red Ford Explorer. When I called him I asked him to bring me shoes as I was barefoot when I was detained, being the number one dad that he was, he brought a reusable grocery store tote bag, containing a hoodie, sneakers, fuzzy socks, sweatpants and a bag of my favourite chips. I slip the sweats on underneath my dress while the hoodie goes overtop, I awkwardly unzip it and shimmy it off, stuffing it into the tote bag.
The drive back to his house begins and he turns on the radio, trying to make lighthearted chatter "Thanks for coming to get me," I say, my voice is quiet and I pull my knees to my chest like as I tend to do when I get nervous "You can just drop me off at my car and I'll be out of your way."
"Sorry, kiddo," He says, eyes focused on the road "You're staying with me tonight, I don't want you driving these roads in the dark and it'll be good for you to have a hot shower and a warm meal, get some sleep somewhere that's not a holding cell."
"It's just that-
"If you still want to leave in the morning that's up to you but you shouldn't end your Christmas alone," Each word seems so genuine "And you know I would gladly have you stay with me three hundred and sixty-five days a year."
I look at him, a soft melancholic smile on my face, "Thank you," I say.
"Do you wanna talk about it?"
A sigh falls from my lips "What happened to all of my stuff that was left on the lawn?"
"Tommy and Ellie brought it all inside."
Ellie brought it back inside? Did she actually give a shit or was this something her dad ordered her to do? "Did my dad say anything to you?"
Joel shakes his head "Maria went barging on his door, those two were in a screaming match for a good two minutes before he locked the door on her. Hasn't been outside since, everyone in the neighbourhood has been coming by to ask what happened."
"Even Sharron?" I ask Joel, wrinkling my nose in distaste.
"Even Sharron," He solidifies. Sharron was the grouchy crone of the street, shutting down every party, cussing out teenagers from her porch, and yelling at barking dogs "She said she was worried about you." The windshield wipers painted rhythmic patterns across the glass, clearing a path through the soft snow that continued to fall.
"She's not worried about me, she's worried I'm on drugs and I'll break into her musty home to steal all of her hummels."
Joel huffs a laugh "I can't believe that I used to let her babysit you and Ellie."
"Me neither, you should be paying for my therapy." I tease.
He chuckles at my words, "So you're majoring in wildlife biology?"
"You remembered what I wanted to major in?"
"Of course I did."
"Hey, Mookie!" Tommy wraps his arms around me the moment I set foot in the door. He's called me Mookie since I was a little girl, it started when I couldn't pronounce monkey and thus Mookie was born. "Let me get a good look at you," He pushes me back just the slightest hands clasped on my shoulders "Look at that bruise you've got on your cheek, looking awful tough, like those greasers you used to read about."
"Look at that, Mookie grew up," Maria greets me with a warm smile, pushing Tommy away to hug me "Good to see you made it through prison alive," She jests.
Joel's house is exactly how it was when I left.
The air carried the familiar scent of firewood and lavender incense. In the living room, an inviting fireplace stood as the heart of the home. Its gentle crackle and the dancing flames provided a soothing backdrop to the overstuffed couches adorned with cozy blankets and throw pillows, worn from years of shared family movie nights. A well-loved rug covered the wooden floor, its pattern a mosaic of memories and spills easily forgiven and of course, a coffee table hand-crafted by Joel and intricately carved.
The shelves lining the walls were a treasure trove of family history. Photographs in mismatched frames captured smiling faces frozen in time, chronicling the evolution of Ellie through the years. A collection of well-read books, their spines creased and pages worn, stood proudly, offering a glimpse into the literary adventures that had unfolded within those walls.
The kitchen, the heart of many childhood homes, held the lingering aroma of Christmas dinner. The countertops, scarred from countless meals prepared and shared, were a testament to the love that had gone into creating family dinners. A worn wooden table in the center of the room bore witness to the countless conversations, celebrations, and moments of solace shared over shared meals.
"You know what, when I was around your age, I spent my fair share of time in the cooler, good to see you're taking after me," Tommy winks and gives me a hard pat on the back. Neither of them acknowledges the reason behind last night's events and somehow it feels worse than talking about it.
"We've just finished up making dinner, I'm sure you're hungry," Maria smiles softly, taking my hand into her calloused one.
"Yeah, I'm starving," I smile in return and trail behind the blonde woman to the dining table.
All of the plates are laid out with portions of food on each one, Ellie is sitting alone, spooning mashed potato into her mouth while she texts someone, she glances up at me and offers nothing more than a tight-lipped smile and awkward wave before going back to her phone. Tommy comes by with a tray of garlic butter rolls and uses tongs to add more onto my plate "Don't think I've forgotten how much you love these."
I grin up at him, I'm sitting in the same chair I sat in all those years ago when I Ellie and I would settle down after spending all day in the sun, Joel would ask us what we wanted for dinner and almost every time we would shout hotdogs.
"Good to have you back," Joel nods to me "House always felt a little empty without you."
I always felt a little empty without this house "Good to be back," I smear some mashed potato onto Tommy's famous garlic butter bread rolls.
I feel almost sick with nostalgia as I look around the dining room, Joel still had Ellie's crafts from elementary school hung up and if you look closely, you find little clues that I've left behind; proof that I once existed as a girl beneath this roof. There's a dent in the wall from the time I stood on my chair to catch a spider and accidentally fell over, my head hitting right into the wall, Ellie was laughing too hard to help me.
"So what school do you go to?" Maria asks me, washing down her pot roast with some ice water.
"Northridge actually," At my words, Ellie's head perks up, she's looking dead at me with a look of fear in her eyes.
"Oh, Ellie goes there!" Tommy smiles "She never mentioned that you do too."
Ellie is silently pleading with me, I know she doesn't want me to tell her family that she's been borderline tormenting me as my roommate and sending me to bed with tears in my eyes. I didn't plan on telling them anyway "That's funny, I guess we just keep missing each other."
Joel set up an air mattress in Ellie's room, that's when it became clear to me that he had no idea just how bad the fallout was between us. I hate to say that I missed her room and all of the memories we shared in it.
Ellie's bedroom resembled something of a teen guy who'd never gotten laid before. She had a navy comforter, her shelves were lined with comics and novels, I know for a fact that she'd read every single one of them. Her desk was always a mess, covered in pages of poetry and sketches that she had torn out from her journal. Almost every inch of her walls is covered in posters of bands, movies and her nerdy video games.
I was fresh out of the shower, finally in my clean clothes that I had dug out of my suitcase. I got to charge my phone too, there was an overwhelming number of messages.
D-Manz: HAPPY CHRISTMAS BITCH!!!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU AND CAN'T WAIT TO PARTY WHEN WE GET BACK
Jesse: Merry Christmas, hope your day isn’t shit! 😁😁😁
Riley: Merry Christmas! Hope you're having fun at your new school!
Abs: Merry Christmas and stay safe!
Kayla: Missing you girl ☹️ so excited for that staff party!
Kit-Cat: Merry Christmas, don't have too much fun without me
Yara: Merry Christmas ❤️ this probably isn't the time but I was hoping you could send over your notes from the last conservation lecture, just wanna text you before I forget!
566-460-4374: I got your number from Kyle, this is Roderick, I saw you last night and wanted to check up on you, hope everything is okay and merry Christmas.
Lindsey: Hey, haven't talked to you in a while but my parents said some stuff went down, just wanna make sure you're okay.
Ellie: Lmk if you need a ride back to our place
Ellie: Don't know if you can even see this but I got all of your stuff off the lawn, I promise it's safe 👍
Naomi: I'm so sorry
Naomi: I didn't think that would happen
Naomi: I didn't know what to do
Naomi: I love you
Aaron: U good?
Naomi: Please don't hate me, I'm sorry I didn't do anything
Elijah: Sorry but I wish you didn't tell Dad that
Naomi: I'll try to talk to Dad
Elijah: Hope you're safe
Elijah: Call me when you can
Still, there wasn't any word from either of my parents. I replied returning well wishes and assuring everyone that I was okay, I turned my phone onto Do Not Disturb and began to watch the Hunger Games on my phone. The room would've been pitch black if it wasn't for the blue light from my screen and the gentle beams of moonlight gliding through the window.
Ellie walks into the room after she finishes with her shower, she's in sweatpants and an old hoodie that she got from a rodeo, I had the same one, and we bought them together. I glance up at her before looking back at my movie and pulling the quilt further up my body. "You still like the Hunger Games?"
"Yeah," I say, being as brief as possible.
"You should take my bed and I'll sleep on the air mattress," Ellie says while she ties her hair into a low ponytail.
"I'm fine here, thanks."
"Seriously," Ellie is standing awkwardly at the foot of her bed, waiting for me to do something.
I shut my phone off and turned on my other side to face away from her "Just go to bed."
Ellie runs her hands down her face in frustration, she's starting to feel like an asshole "Please take the bed, it's the least I can do." I ignore her so she speaks again "I am begging you," She tells me bluntly "I feel like a dick and it would make me feel better if you just took the bed."
"You are a dick," I answer, she should've seen this response coming from a mile away.
"Please take the bed."
I sit up to look at her, frustration now boiling up inside of me "You're going to be nice now because you feel bad for me?"
"That's not why-
"It is actually," I tell her "This will last for a few days and then we'll go home and you'll be a cunt all over again, fucking keeping a list of everything I lay a finger on so you can say it's my fault if it breaks." She bites the inside of her cheek, that's her tell. Every time she does that I can tell that I've gotten under her skin. "You'll still act like you don't know me and I'm just some weird girl who thinks the world of you, I know what you say to those girls you have over, the walls aren't that thick." My insides ache from all of the screaming and crying of the past couple of days "And I know that I hurt you and I've told you a million times over that I'm sorry, you don't get to start having empathy for me now."
Ellie's silent again, she can't seem to find the words, so instead she slips under the covers of her bed, giving up. Minutes pass us, we've slept in this room together a thousand times but this time it's different, we don't share her queen bed and stay up all night watching the walking dead and talking shit about people at our school, we lay in the uncomfortable silence. We're grown but in this moment I still feel like a child searching for her mother's hand to guide her, I feel like my teeth still need to fall out so brighter, stronger ones can take their place, that the baby fat has yet to shed from my bones.
"I didn't know that you liked girls," Ellie said, breaking the silence "And I shouldn't have assumed that stuff about your parents." I don't respond to her, though she knows that I heard her. "I lied that night when you moved in."
"What?"
"I got all bitchy and said that you don't even cross my mind, I was lying," She's confessing to me as if I'm a priest "There wasn't a day that went by where I didn't think about you."
I'm not doing well.
I want nothing more than to crawl into bed next to Ellie and just hug her until I fall asleep but the resentment I've garnered for her these past months refrains me.
"I don't know if you ever knew this, but back in high school I had a bit of a crush on you," She says and my break hitches in my throat "Hey, you there?"
'I don't know if you ever knew this but I turned myself inside out trying not to be in love with you.' I don't say that, instead, I say "Goodnight, Ellie, Merry Christmas."
"Goodnight," She mutters, and like me, she turns her body to face away from me.
I don't feel mature in the slightest, I'm kept awake, haunted by shame and embarrassment. Ellie had seen me only one night prior, on my knees begging for love. We may be cold and calculated to one another now but I remember when she was a little girl who overwatered her plants because she didn't know how to stop giving.
TAG LIST I just tagged whoever wanted a part two: @elliesaesp @yalaysbee @laundrybag29 @readbydayana @elliesaturnsoftdrink @mikellie @melanie-watermelon @skylerwhitwyo