trying on a metaphor
blake kathryn
DEAR READER
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Three Goblin Art
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if i look back, i am lost
@theartofmadeline
todays bird
noise dept.
wallacepolsom
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
#extradirty
shark vs the universe
d e v o n
Janaina Medeiros
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
taylor price
almost home
Xuebing Du
seen from Malaysia
seen from Uruguay
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from Argentina
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seen from United States
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@itsskippermo-blog
“Secret.” Raffy winked at her. “Sounds tempting. Let’s find a chef first, yes? Then we’ll see if we could actually pull thiss off.”
“Well darn,” she said, letting out an over dramatic sigh. “Yeah, that’s probably the best idea. There has to be someone willing. And you know, I really do think we could pull off anything we wanted to.”
What are you doing here all by yourself?
I took a wrong turn. I don’t even know how I got in here. Help.
“If I become a rapper will name myself that. If I become successful, you’ll see.” He laughs. “Like us! We might spend a lot for this project.”
“Are you planning on becoming a rapper?” Skipper grinned, almost wanting to hear the songs he would release. “Yes, we might. But something tells me it will be worth it. Like getting all the free pizza donuts we want.”
“Skiffy the Rapper.” Raffy laughs. “Hey, I like Skiffy. Who makes the actual pizza donuts?”
“Skiffy the Rapper. I bet those songs would be wonderful,” she laughed. “I do too. It’s unusual. Maybe we could find a chef willing to work for us? I could try but that may be a disaster just waiting to happen.”
“Let’s call it Rapper’s Pizza Donuts, or Skiffy’s Pizza Donuts. Yes, we do.”
“Rapper and Skiffy. Skiffy sounds hilarious,” she laughed, shaking her head, “Some name combinations just don’t work. But yes, we need to get this idea approved immediately!”
Brice couldn’t help but grin brightly. “It’s not only you, I know what you mean. There’s just a certain touch to them that draws you in, no?” Catching herself, Brice shook her head and held out a hand. “I’m Brice, by the way. I suppose I should have introduced myself before showering you in petals, huh?”
“Okay, good! I’m really glad you get it! Sometimes I think it makes me sound a little disturbed.” Skipper laughed, “Brice? That’s such a pretty name.” She waved off her comment about the petals with another laugh, “No, no, I don’t mind. I felt like I was at a wedding or something. I mean, I could have introduced myself before I started rambling too. So we’re both at fault. But yeah, it’s nice to meet you! I’m Skipper!”
“Pizza donuts sound good. Let’s start a business here.” He laughed.
“We could do that! We could call it Raffy and Skipper’s Pizza Donuts -- or Skipper and Raffy’s Pizza Donuts. We sound like a crime fighting team.”
Brice examined the rose in her hands with a lazy smile. She saw a pair of feet approaching from her peripheral, but she didn’t look up to greet them. “Beauitful, isn’t it?” she drawled, spinning the rose between her fingers. Without missing a beat, her hands were on the flower, ripping it apart. “Even in its death, it’s still so magnificent.” With a smile, she threw the rose petals towards the other person.
“That’s what’s so great about flowers,” Skipper grinned, laughing when the other girl tossed the rose petals at her, catching one of them between her fingers to study it for a few seconds before she dropped it, allowing it to flutter to the ground. “Maybe it’s only me, but I think things usually are just as beautiful when broken. Sometimes prettier, better -- it gives them a story, whether it’s a rose or a statue, or even a person.”
“How about we talk about… Donuts. Okay, pizza and donuts. Let us talk about the diet of a police man.” He laughs too. “They did.”
“Donuts and pizza, pizza and donu--” Cutting herself off with a gasp, Skipper sat up straighter. “Pizza donuts! Donut pizzas! Why is these not really popular things? A huge pizza in the shape of a donut, a donut with pizza toppings... the possibilities are endless! We need to get this on the market pronto!”
He connected his pinky with hers to complete the pinky swear. “Okay then. Stay here, it is.” He removes his pinky after talking. “So, what are you going to talk to me about, Skipper? My ears are dying to listen.” He laughs. “I like yours. It sounds like a name for a hyper person.”
Skipper grinned, dropping her hand. “Pick a subject, any subject. I’m sure I can go on about anything for a couple of hours at least. How about pizza? Pizza’s always a good starting point.” She laughed, “Then I think my parents chose the perfect name for me.”
“Are you sure? I can leave if I’m going to be a bother. There must be another table here somewhere.”, he said as he looked around the coffee shop. He turned to face Skipper and laughed at what she said. “Well then, I will be that someone today, and I can assure you that I will actually listen.” He smiled at her. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Raffy.”
“You’re not going to be a bother,” she promised, holding up her pinky in a half pinky swear. “There are plenty of tables, but then you’ll just be lonely.” She grinned, “Okay, good. That’s all I ask of you.” After another second, she smiled, “I really like that name. I’m Skipper.”
Raffy was inside the coffee shop and he occupied the first empty table he saw. When he sat down, he noticed there were things on the other chair. He looked around and saw someone approaching him. “I’m sorry. Were you the one sitting here? I could leave and look for another table.”
Returning to her table with the cup of coffee she’d ordered, she only noticed Raffy when she was fairly close, and she shook her head when he started speaking, waving his apology off. “No, no, please stay if you want! If I don’t have any company, I end up talking to myself, and I always get weird looks from the customers when that happens. It’s better to have someone to annoy who sits there and nods and pretends to listen.”
Skipper had been right to say that the truth was brutal. He had asked for honesty, and he had known the answer before he even asked, but hearing someone else say it felt like a blow straight to his chest. Marcus’ hands were shakier than usual, and he felt like he had to concentrate more than usual to keep himself standing. He didn’t trust himself to speak for a while, because he knew his voice would break and tears would start to fall. So instead, he just nodded at first, averting his eyes to focus on nothing in particular. “My twin brother, and the boy I somehow fell for…” Marcus started, forcing himself to stop again as the burning in his throat reappeared, he shook his head. He stood there for another moment, willing himself to keep it together. “I just- thanks Skipper. I think I’m just going to go in and get some sleep, if you don’t mind.”
Skipper truly hoped she’d said what he needed to hear-- she wasn’t the kind of person who could lie to her friends, pull a wool over their eyes because she thought it would hurt less. He had asked for the truth, so she was honest. And she just hoped in doing that, she hadn’t screwed up his situation more. “You’re welcome,” she said after a few quiet seconds, offering him the smallest comforting smile she could. “I don’t mind. And if you need anything, I’ll probably be awake, pacing the floors or talking someone’s ears off.” She knew she wasn’t going to enjoy feeling like a caged animal, being locked in the basement like that, but it was for the best. “So, you know, if you don’t have the heart to tell someone to get lost or let you get some sleep, you can just whistle for me or whatever and I’ll tell them off for you-- nicely, of course.”
Marcus walked slowly, he was dreading walking into that basement. When the two of them reached the door, Marcus stopped. He didn’t want to go in, and definitely didn’t want to talk about what he was about to bring out while surrounded by so many people. Marcus hesitated, the question on the tip of his tongue, he trusted Skipper to be honest with him. She was one of the few people he felt as though he could turn to, but for some reason, forcing himself to speak felt impossible. Truthfully, he was afraid to hear the answer. “Am I a horrible person?” Marcus asked finally, before realizing that there was quite a bit of elaboration that went with the question. “I mean… I don’t know. I- there’s just, my brother and Lockie, I-… they’re both, they’re sort of the reason I’m acting like this. Neither of them have really been there for me. My brother… he claims to care, but he’s never around when I need him. When I ended up in the hospital a while back, he didn’t even show up to see me, and then we argued the other day, and… he just made it seem like I was being selfish. And then, Lockie, I know he’s strugging with his own stuff but I just feel like all he’s doing is using me and walking all over me. I mean, he really hurt me the other day and then… right before you came he was talking to me and he just… he gave up. He didn’t try to get me to come inside like you did. I just feel like I’m trying so hard to fight this, but the way their acting toward me, it feels like they’re tying one of my hands behind my back. I feel like they’re holding me back, you know? Do you think it’s horrible of me to feel that way? They make it sound like I’m horrible for being upset with them, I just don’t understand how I’m supposed to ignore how they’ve been treating me. It’s like… they can hurt me a million times, but I’m not allowed to be upset about it.”
Stopping when they reached the door, Skipper turned to face him, leaning up against the side of the building. They needed to get inside, but a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt, and it would give him time to brace himself for whatever was waiting on the other side. She was completely silent as she waited for him to speak; being silent for a long period of time wasn’t something that happened often when it came to her, but she wasn’t going to pressure him to speak until he was ready to. She blinked at first, when he asked if he was a horrible person, about to ask him why he would think that, though he spoke again before she had to. It was hard to hear him talk about these two people who had hurt him, who probably cared but didn’t show it, to know how sad that must make him feel. She couldn’t imagine being in that place with her brother or someone who was supposed to be her friend. “I’m going to be honest with you,” she said, slowly, “Brutally honest.” Going quiet for another second, she shook her head, her voice coming out quiet. “No.” Taking a deep breath, she continued, “No, you’re not a horrible person and no, it’s not horrible for you to feel that way. You can’t let people walk over you or use you -- no matter how much they say they love you. If it’s that hard to believe, if they’re only hurting you, you have to break away. You just have to. That doesn’t mean you have to leave or avoid them, it just means you have to... stop letting them make you feel like you’ve got one hand behind your back. And it’s really hard to do that, I know, but you have to be able to love yourself and do what’s best for you, surround yourself by people who lift you up instead of dragging you down. It’s not selfish. It’s not horrible. You’ve tried everything you can, Marcus. If your brother, and if Lockie-- if they want to be a part of their life, they’re going to have to come to you. The ball is in their court. You’re allowed to be upset. Don’t let anyone else ever tell you that you’re not. They have no right to try to control the way you think or feel. They don’t. And you’re as far from horrible as it gets. That’s just the truth.” She crossed her arms, staring at him. “The brutally honest truth.”
“Maybe you’re just the exception.” Marcus said quickly, probably a bit too quickly. He then looked at her and sighed quietly. He was so lost in everything that was going on. He was falling apart, but trying so hard to pretend that things were fine just so no one else had to suffer. In reality, it was him who needed support, not them. But he seemed to be the only person thinking about others. Except for Skipper, as she had just proven. Why couldn’t his brother care about him like this? Or Lockie? “I just… I don’t know. I kind of suck. People like… people that are positive. That’s why you’re so likeable. I’m not like that though.” Marcus shrugged, then forced a small smile. “You’re welcome.” Truth be told, Marcus still dreaded the thought of stepping down in that basement. Of being stuck in a room with the people that had hurt him worse than he was already hurting. Marcus bit his lip, watching the pavement below his feet pass as the two of them walked. “Can I ask you something?”
Looking over at Marcus, she raised an eyebrow, trying to figure out what he meant by that. She just wanted to stop walking and hug him, tightly enough to push all of his cracks back together, but she couldn’t do that. Even if she did stop and hug him, it wouldn’t actually fix anything, and it was sad to think that way. But she didn’t always believe something had to be fixed. It just had to be loved for it’s broken parts as well as everything else. And she didn’t understand why everyone couldn’t grasp that knowledge. “You don’t suck,” she almost laughed, tilting her head at him. “Marcus, I’m going to keep telling you this until you actually believe it. I would not want to spend my time with someone who was that horrible to be around, and to be honest, I probably wouldn’t.” She searched his face, noticing something behind his smile, but not commenting on it. She almost wondered if she was doing the right thing by getting him to come with her, but he had to be better off in that basement than in the middle of the storm, whether he wanted to admit it or not. “Yeah, sure. I mean, this is a lot of pressure, I just said I was usually right, so I can’t give you reason to doubt that...” Trailing off, she grew serious again, as serious as she could get anyway, nodding at him. “Yes, you absolutely can. Of course.”
“I don’t want you to go out there and get sucked up, i’d rather you stayed here with us. You know, where it’s safe.”
“I think that’s a good idea. How would I ride a merry go round or get free pizza if I was out there spinning away?”
“I…” Marcus sighed, running a hand through his rain saturated hair. He was clearly struggling with his actions. He was constantly back and forth between breaking down, and then feeling guilty for doing so. Skipper was right, of course. But, Marcus couldn’t help but to feel horrible for acting the way he was. He was putting pressure on others, and he didn’t think that was acceptable. “I’m… trust me, me being me is not something anyone really wants. Unfortunately you keep showing up everytime I’m-… you know, actually being me.” Marcus shivered again, letting out a quiet sigh. He looked over at her, then turned away as he tried to suppress a cough, eventually being forced to cough in to the inside of his elbow. “I just… wanted to say thank you.”
It was depressing, to see someone so down on themselves. She could sure where he was coming from, sure-- maybe he felt like he needed to be stronger, or everyone else had allowed him to believe things that weren’t true, about himself and how people viewed him. It was extremely sad to Skipper, because she was a firm believer in staying true to the person you were. She’d always done so herself, and she’d always urged her brother, her cousin, her friends and family members, all to stop hiding behind whatever masks they were wearing and let their true colors actually shine. Now she just needed to do the same for him. “Well,” she started after a few seconds, clearing her throat. “The way I see it, if I keep showing up everytime you’re actually being you, and I like you this much and I care about you, then obviously, you being you is something that I really do want.” Looking over, she noticed him shiver, and she wished she had a jacket or something to give him, but she didn’t. Hopefully the basement would have spare clothes, or enough blankets for him to wrap up in. Pressing her lips together, she continued, “Because I didn’t befriend some fake, hidden version of you. And I wouldn’t want to. So, whatever you believe, I believe something entirely different -- and, just so you know, I’m usually right.” She started to tell him he didn’t have to thank her, but then she changed her words mid-sentence, offering him a smile. “You don’t-- you’re welcome. Thank you for coming with me.”
