Again she’s laying in this bed no shadows, just light, bright white light. She’s wondering if they’ll visit today she might like to hear them, but if not maybe someone will turn on the music? It’s quiet, always so quiet, but Betty has become accustom to it having known no other existence.
She knows she is in the Capital, in the premier Medical Center of the nation, and she knows she was born defective. She has never seen a thing only shadows from above, or to the side. They say she is lucky for she will soon be fixed. No real use of the eyes, a missing leg, forearm, and hand, paralyzed from the neck down this pink haired angel cannot speak they only recently discovered she can hear. The whole twelve years little defective Betty heard every last sound. Since the discovery they’ve been reading to her the gossip has stopped, mostly. They say it’s so she’ll be ready, but she’s found she misses the daily drama.
The incubator begins to close around her, eyes shoot open, she cannot move. The light is changing as they lock her in, restraints attach, and the shadows still-silence.
She hears distant heel clicks, Mrs Sinclair, she’s with her husband and the doctor. What’s happening? Betty is terrified-have they changed their minds? Darkness covers everything as the nurses enter with a pitter-patter and hushed breathing. Everything sounds so strange, the incubator pump making everything hollow, milky eyes are watery.
She can hear Mrs Sinclair “are you sure?” her voice is small, but piercing. “I mean it will take? I don’t think I can handle a mishap.”
The incubator begins to shake as nurses ready the medical bed to begin. It’s happening. The heels are moving away, the shadows break in quick succession as bzzzz air hits her ears, the light return, her head is being held in place. There’s a tickle on her temples tendrils licking at her skin then pain. Severe pain. Six tendrils on either side dig in as the visor drops on open eyes. She screams, but there’s no sound. Down her open mouth drop several disk forcing the scream to remain.
Inside she is crying for her mother, father, the doctor, God, anyone to make it stop-is this fixing?
The bio-tech limbs fall into place again with a tickle and then with a bang. As scalpel goes down to chest she cannot see it, but when it touches skin another silent scream this time with static distortion.
The agony turns her numb as tear drops stream down pure white skin-is this being fixed?
She’s sitting in the waiting room kicking her feet just above the floor, the chair too big for the tiny girl. “This is it” she whispers to herself looking at the floor “this is my only shot”repeatedly pushing round glasses back up her sharp little nose “I got in. I know. I. Got. In.” Foot steps. Her ears perk “six sets” heart pounding in her ears “this is it!” she squeaks to herself.
Her mother and fathers shoes fall before her eyes dare to rise up the light turning lenses to mirrors-they’re smiling!
The recruiter is beside them-he’s smiling too! “Welcome to the colony Stephanie” his voice startles her as she notices her parents eyes are shaking. They’re crying-tears of joy?
“May we have a moment” her mother says weakly he mutters an of course and steps away. Both parents kneel down to eye level with their eight year old daughter “honey, you know papa and I love you very much”
“Yes” little Stephie smiles-she had to have gotten in!
Her father puts a heavy hand in her knee “Stephie, mama and I, we had no idea-”
Mama interjects “what it would mean if you got in-”
Eyes wide with excitement “I got in!?” jumping up she begins to scream in elation jumping up before mama’s form hands bring her back to sitting.
“Yes. Now, Stephanie listen.” Her voice is serious, but all the child can think of is happy. “If you join the colony program you won’t live with us anymore. They’ll take you, right now and-and-”
Papa jumps in “we see you for at least ten years.” His voice is grim, they weren’t prepared for this, none of the website mentioned it. No one mentioned it, until today, after testing.
“Now? I get to go now!?” her little heart can hardly contain the excitement.
This is what they were afraid of “is that what you want, Stephanie?” her mother is horrified because she is not surprised.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” She’s on her feet again bouncing on the chair as the recruiter returns handing the girl a white lab coat. Throwing the coat on she continues to bounce in circles “I did it! I did it! I did it!”
The recruiter laughs saying “yes, you did kid. In fact you scored so well I’m taking you to the fourth sector” his eyes are salivating, he pulled gold today.
Mama grabs her once again “honey are you sure? What about mama and papa?” Stephanie is their only child.
“I’ll see you in ten years” she says matter-of-factly her voice almost dry. Her parents exchange looks and resign themselves, but before they can say goodbye she’s gone.
Stephanie’s walking out of the waiting room hand in hand with the recruiter. “At least she’s happy mama” her father sighs hands on his wife’s shoulders.
“Yes, but it would have been nice if they’d told us before” she sulks “now I’ve nothing for the gala”
She wakes up in a ditch rain drops hitting her dirty face, a storms coming. Head aching she slowly picks herself up out of the dirt. She’s naked “fuck” sighing she begins ambling toward civilization. She doesn’t remember a thing, not a name, not an age, nor location-where the fuck are her clothes? But at least she sees houses. She’s in the suburbs of the Green District though she doesn’t know it yet.
The rain begins to fall harder and faster drenching our girl completely. She just keeps walking forward barely a shiver, there’s no time for cold, she’s hungry.
Coming to the first yard she finds herself in the back with a serendipitous clothesline and no one in sight trying to save it. They may be wet, but at least they’ll cover. Grabbing a black shirt, and ill fitting jeans she scampers to the next yard having eyed a pair of work boots left out all alone. Slipping into the wet boots she sloshes her way to the front still no real idea of what to do. Nothing looks familiar though quiet and homely. The sound of rain hitting ground fills her ears as she passes house after house, stomach roaring.
She’s watching her feet appear and disappear listening to the storm while everything else is gone. Mumbling as she goes “left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot…”
“Katherine!” a man calls out from a car she keeps moving mindlessly unaware of the sound.
A woman burst from the passenger seat nearly slipping on her dainty heeled feet “excuse me! Katherine!?” rushing to our nameless girls side she startles her. Jumping back she screams eyes wide the woman puts hands up “oh! I’m sorry! I’m sorry we scared you Katherine” she’s ridiculously tall almost like she’s been stretched out, incredibly thin, moving like olive oil in the rain “we didn’t mean to be late picking you up! The whole situation with your bags had us all confused!” She’s laughing and smiling while she speaks.
Our girl smiles and laughs too thinking maybe Katherine likes food?
The woman leads her to the car where the man is waiting dry and cozy “hey there, Kathy, do’ya mind if I call ya Kathy?” he’s wearing thick square framed glasses and smiling bright.
“Yeah, that’s fine” it’s not lying, right? They drive off down the road with the Mrs asking all sorts of one word answer questions our girl just nods. Though she finds out Katherine was suppose to be at a bus stop thirty minutes further down the road, apparently they thought their girl walked all that way. They drive and drive while olive oil chit chats mostly to herself though her husband laughs saying “you’re so right dear, Kathy you listen to that.” She’d nod, but all she’s really hearing is her stomach at this point.
They arrive at a quaint farm with a picturesque little house front and center. Where Kathy is assured they run and own, not maintain or work this “little slice of heaven” as the Mr calls it. She’s ushered to the front porch where under its awning she’s able to dry off enough to sit and eat dinner.
Which she destroys.The food a bit cold from sitting out waiting for their arrival, but nonetheless fork in one hand, spoon in the other she plows through plate after plate. Meatloaf, potato’s and gravy, peas and cornbread-so much food. The couple watch as their newly obta-adopted daughter shovels the well prepared meal graciously into her face.
“I hope you enjoy it Katherine! And when your done I’ll bring in the dessert” she’s smiling ear to ear and so is ‘Kathy’-dessert! Her eyes water from happiness-so good!
“Welcome home Kathy” the new father says proudly ” Katherine Kelley” so that’s their name Mr and Mrs Kelley-our girls wondering what happened to Katherine.
And she will play the frail one
bat her lashes and sigh
she will tell you stories
of horrors that haunt her mind
she will play the victim
fighting back so strong
she will play her cards right
you will see no wrong.
She will speak in feelings
appeal to your heartstrings
she will wear oppression like her finery
everything about her
screams someone come save me
and like a wounded animal
she tricks those who trust too readily.
And she will take your home
your power and who you said you’d be
but you will see no wrong
a woman has done the gas lighting-
I use this term quite wrong
but ignorance is the language she speaks.
She’s packing her things away smiling nervously as the theater empties. Our Dorothy doesn’t want to go home, but as the house lights flick off there’s nowhere else to go. Bag over shoulder she exits the dark. The sky is grey blue, the wind blowing hard, her dress whipping about her legs. She throws her arms out smile bright “at least I got this” if there were hills they’d be alive.
While she walks she takes her pulse, all day a weird feeling. She’s warmer than she’s ever been, but it feels oddly comfortable though her skin does feel clammy to touch. She keeps walking the wind picking up static is in the air it crackles as our sweetheart hums herself into a happy place.
Turning left, there’s her front door, her blue little house a picture of wholesome until-crash. Someone’s in the kitchen with Dina and our young Dorothy knows who. With a sigh she walks down the stone path smash up the stone steps thud hand on doorknob thump opens the door “you like this!? Is this what you want!?” Her mother screams as she quickly shuts the door. Rule one after all.
“Alright!” Paul screams from the kitchen floor as she passes by, his face is stone. Dorothy never really knew why it got to this, but Paul typically asked for it.
In her room she quickly changes to pajamas she’d stay late enough no one would question it. At least she hopes. Tucked in tightly Dorothy silently recites her lines her mind spinning to the tunes of the stage.
Hours pass with our girl sleeping sound when in the middle of the night the floor boards outside her door creak.
She doesn’t open her eyes. Sometimes she won’t stir her if she’s not awake. Hand on leg the blankets begin to move. She breathes in slowly-scent is different. Eyes open there’s Paul he’s smiling face stone. Her eyes are wide-she had a birthday last week. He’s smirking, she breathes-is it getting hot in here? The blankets off, she’s sweating, he has no clothes on.
Why button up pjs? Mom likes them. One button comes undone as he climbs on top he’s breathing heavy and hot but it feels cold. Her top undone his mouth meets nipple-it’s cold. She squeals and squirms her body is tearing apart. His hand between her legs pinching her mound as he mindlessly tires to rip off her bottoms. He tries again and again, she screams.
Is the room light on?
why is his face green?
Looking her dead in the eyes his face is no longer stone. He’s afraid-petrified. Her bodies ripping apart. Boom. The room turns toxic green, the house shakes, windows rattle and Paul’s not breathing anymore.
I am weak
you’re words trick
so filled with guile
power of the stronger sex
to catch the prey that doth protest
break their pretty little necks
move on to next contest
I’ll throw myself into the game
but never take the blame
for we are judged quite equally
but I am fragile
oh so weak
you have done so wrong to me
but I will scream and cry and weep
while you take the luxuries I reaped.
In the past and back again
thought the equal it would lend
to the fairer sex unmet
from the lower on top of him.
We are not equal
not one in the same
you see the difference
is not as innate
as in skin color, or
the way that you pray
the difference is in
how you get paid
you’ve got the bling bling
I’ve got the pain.
We are not equal
not one in the same
you can afford the lies
you don’t know the difference
living day to day
you don’t know the meaning
of living just for pay
you don’t know the meaning
of working poor or debt
you don’t know the truth
behind your politics.
Silence becomes me
make my heart sing
numb if not nothing
for I cannot be something.
Silence becomes me
filled up with nonsense
confusion in my head
sore but still in bed.
Stitched lips and silence
I am the violence
we stop the madness
by taking your head.
She’s staring into the mirrors big, round eyes, dead-she’s a doll. Sound returns slowly as her eyes move to the Elizabethan gown. Salmon with white frill trim and gold embellishments, everything selected ever so carefully. The tailor works diligently on the hem low to the ground near the eight year old’s tiny heeled feet.
“Oh! You look darling! my little princess” mother croons “you’ll be the talk of the gala!” behind little Victoria stands her picturesque future hands clasp at her ample bosom. Mother Humphries is adorn in similar attire her big round eyes wet with pride. “Clayborne, doesn’t your sister look lovely?” her voice a melody as her dapper lad smiles up.
“Yes, mother” Victoria watches him through the mirrors clad in baby blue her twin takes her hand “she looks beautiful in this color, doesn’t she?”
Mother gently grabs him by the chin smiling at her accomplishments tonight’s gala will be a success “yes my little one she’s a vision” she drops down to her children’s height “tonight is your big night Victoria, tonight the world meets you” her mother’s soft features all aglow and brothers hand loosely in her own “tonight is the beginning of your life” the tailors face becomes visible-everyone all smiles.
Victoria stares into the fitting room mirrors big round eyes dead as she looks over her should to mother Humphries “I’m so excited!” clapping hands together, golden locks bouncing, all smiles.
Just do what you do
stop asking permission
acting like a grown person
than assume the position
don’t want to do your makeup
or style your hair?
You keep saying patriarchy
got you all scared,
then stiffen that lip-
get your ass in gear
never let a concept
stop you from being real.
Just do what you do
stop asking permission
pretending the enemy is a system-
say that the white man
is keeping you down
that straight white America’s
taken your sound,
but still you’re just sitting
playing the clown-lioness thinking
you can’t change your ground.
Then make it yourself
got so much ambition
then break from the crowd
you need permission, safe places,
You must not want this
at least not at all.