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Monday, February 29, 2016

Rosie the Rose, part 5: The broken heart brings you the most tolerable places

The Power of Broken Heart

Without Eliot, Rosie couldn't hear any music. Everything seemed cast in grief. Rosie never felt such emptiness before. For the first time she understood how Berenice truly felt. She tried and tried to concentrate on getting to Soho.
That's why she started her journey in the first place. The whole point of her adventure was to find Soho. Yet she walked aimlessly, ignoring the days and seasons. Her legs, before walking so fiercely forward, moved mechanically now. For Rosie the whole world collapsed and yet the leaves continued shedding different colours, the raindrops sounded beautifully lost and people looked gracefully through the keyholes of observations. Rosie had been unhappy before, she experienced abandonment and loneliness. But nothing, nothing in the whole entire world could be compared to the pain of broken heart.
One night Rosie had a fever. She was unwell for quite some time then. It felt like her veins were aching and her skin was all bruised up. When your heart starts collapsing so does your body. Rosie was too cold and tired to fight. She was walking feverishly along a wide luminous street. Many people were queuing and smoking in front of the bars and clubs. Rosie had a hard time among them. Their faces looked so twisted and distorted that she had to run away. She ran so fiercefully, trying to disappear into a next raindrop. She wasn't fast enough, her legs trembled and her whole being regused to move. She stopped and fainted.

The House of Tolerance

It smelled as if thousands of perfumes exploded on an unmade bed. It felt like a naked body sleeping in silk, occasionally touched by merciless leather. Rosie could hear a spicy rustle and electricity bathing on power lines. She slowly opened her eyes. There were six women sitting around her in bed. The spicy warmth was coming from their bodies. They were so different and yet they resembled that one particular feature. The feature everyone secretly desired. Scented candles seemed to be everywhere, lace and vivid make up felt heavy to her tired eyes. Lying there in silky sheets and embroidered blankets felt like the sky fell on the wrong surface.
The women didn't stop staring at her, some smoked, some looked worried, indifferent or bored.
Suddenly the door opened abruptly. There was a tall ginger woman wearing a purple suit and silver shoes standing at the door. Her face looked cold and imprisoned in a single stare. Her eyes were xeroxing Rosie. 'Leave us,' she said to them in husky voice.
'Madame Bombon, can we please keep her?' Asked sweetly one of them sitting closest to Rosie. She was blonde with big baby blue eyes.
'What are we an orphanage or a shelter? She's just another broken teenager,' said another one in strong accent. She was looking at her with contempt and her dark eyes seemed to be on fire.
'Out!' Said Madame Bombon annoyed. The women stood up unwillingly and left the room.
As they all left, Rosie tried to sit up for the first time. She gave up as soon as she felt a sharp pain in her lungs.
'I wouldn't do that if I were you. The doctor said you have a pneumonia.'
'Where am I?'
'In a fantasy land.' Laughed Madame. 'Look, girl I don't know what happened to you or why you came here. But I already spent some precious cash on the doctor...'
'You didn't have to...'
'I know... you can stay until you recover but I don't want any child services sniffing around!'
'Yes madame,' said Rosie as Madame Bombon was leaving. As she was opening the door, she turned around and said: 'Welcome to House of Tolerance!'

Sweet Eugenia

Rosie felt weak and ill for another week or so. She couldn't leave the the dark red silky room. The blonde woman who wanted to keep her was bringing her food everyday. Her name was Eugenia. She gently changed Rosie's sweaty clothes, took her temperature and gave her medicine. Eugenia seemed to like helping Rosie. She loved telling stories about everyone working in House of Tolerance and she seemed to know all the secrets and gossip. That's how Rosie learnt pretty much everything important and utterly useless about House of Tolerance's womanhood. There was no man working there. Well those ones who used to be men before didn't count. 'That was just a nature's big faux pas. They were always women, you know.' Said Eugenia. She had the biggest blue eyes and the sweetest voice. When she was young, she used to be engaged to a wealthy man who she adored endlessly. She said she couldn't be happier back then but of course as it almost always happens, something went terribly wrong. Eugenia found out that her husband to be was ceaselessly cheating on her with numerous women who he claimed gave him such pleasures he simply couldn't resist. Eugenia never heard of such thing. She was brought up in a strictly Catholic household were pleasures weren't supposed to be mentioned. Surely she was hurt by being cheated on but more than that she was very curious about these pleasures. What kind of things were they? How come men couldn't resist them? Are there other ways how to completely control them than just with flirtatious stares. Eugenia had to find out more.
One night when everyone else was asleep she went to satisfy her curiosity. House of Tolerance has been whispered to her eager ears to be the place she was looking for. Timidly she opened the dark pesky doors, unfolded the velvet curtains and entered the house where everything was tolerable. What Eugenia saw was something she wouldn't even know how to dream of. The smell completely free of sweetness and roses. The painfully ecstatic faces covered in sweat beads. Eugenia was lost in sighs and lust. She saw women pleasuring women and men and she wanted to be able to do it too. One of the maids took her to Madame Bombon after Eugenia requested her presence.
Rosie had heard later on Madame Bombon describing when she first met Eugenia: 'You know she was an angelic looking sweetheart craving for lust.'
Since then Eugenia decided to stay. 'Look, I know if I stayed with my fiance, I'd have a comfy life... I wouldn't have to work, I could sleep in, then go to the gym, have luncheons and shop all the time. Maybe one day he would empregnate me and I'd have a little crying baby to dress up and play with. How boring right? I mean J just wanted more, a control, power, fun and endless excitement...'
'But is that what you get here?' Doubted Rosie.
Eugenia smiled mischievously, 'once you get better and see what is happening here, you may understand,' blinked Eugenia and let her rest.

Sunday, February 14, 2016

My First Period Memory

I used to be a tomboy up till I was 12. My mother kept my hair short and because of that I felt strangely powerless. To me having a long hair meant certain control and possibilities. Girls throwing their hair could cause an insatiable fire. Long hair spread on the pillow, long hair flowing in the air painfully releasing the sweet fragrance.
Back then when I was a teenager all hair smelled like strawberries to me. I felt incompetent comparing myself to the rest of girls and I sort of gave up an tried to hang out with boys instead. It was so painful for me because deep down I was an absolute girly girl. That kind of a 12 year old who would rollerblade with heart shaped sunglasses blowing bubbles.
One day as I was walking back home from school, Milo joined me. Milo was one of the prettiest boys in the school and also my neighbour. We grew up together, building  tree houses and snowmen. We used to tell each other campfire stories. He was the first boy I truly liked even though it was obvious he thought of me as his little sister.
All the girls liked him and always begged me to send him secret messages and hearts drawings. I actually never delivered them and kept them in my music box.
Milo and I were walking home. I remember it was a sunny spring day and I wore my favourite overalls. Milo was talking about football and how much he hated cutting the grass. He actually smelled like fresh cut grass and I couldn't take my eyes off of his crooked smile.
I never felt spring so intensely and also I felt wet between my legs. I got frightened and quickly wrapped a shirt around my waist. Milo seemed to notice something changed, the air was spicier and even the power lines seemed to shiver. As we arrived home, he looked at me and smiled gently.
When I got home I've noticed the blood on my Little Mermaid knickers. It felt like a strawberry syrup was pouring out of me. I hurt a little and I also realised that I wanted my hair long.