Published on January 16th, 2012 | by thetoolsman20
Calm down Reni
I’m shaking so bad, it’s taking a great amount of control for me to not tip over. My eyes hurt because I can’t stop blinking, I’m afraid to stop blinking. Afraid that if I do, whatever little self-control I have left will leave me and I’ll be reduced to a hopeless heap of eyeballs and tear-filled rants.
I usually pride myself on being a bit of a badass, therefore by association, a strong person. Right now, whatever strength I have is rapidly disappearing in trickles between my epileptic fingers.
You see, I wouldn’t call myself the lucky type, but a few hours before this, I had a good life. I was exceedingly smart and doing well in school, I hadn’t gone on any benders or caused my parents any irreparable damage to their pockets or parental pride. I had the love of my life ready to take on the big opportunity of his lifestyle, one that came to him after our hard work. I was poised to take my final university exams and had gotten into the graduate school I wanted to.
But you see life is a bipolar female dog.
And men are…well men are just dogs.
Combine those two effects and my life was just about ended.
Derin, the love of my life, although a good man in every way failed to win the favor of my parents. Because you see as nice as my parents may seem, they were Muslims and their only Muslim daughter was in love with a Christian. That was about as synonymous as impossibility in their books.
I won’t bore you with the gory details of the mental war that ensued.
Long story short: I rejected my offer of admission to be with Derin and decided to take one year off with him, travelling, observing art, writing and generally just being in love. Whatever plans after that would wait till we were back. Maybe then, my parents would relent and see I was still their smart daughter, plus a man.
But like I said, life is a bipolar female dog.
Or maybe I was just asking for it.
Less than halfway through the trip, I missed my dreaded period and decided to take a test to confirm whether Derin’s baby was beginning to be created inside me.
The test came back positive.
Derin is as mad as hell at me.
He’s screaming so badly, his veins have never seemed more pronounced.
Oh and by the way, my parents have disowned me.
He wants us to end things.
He has a wife and child… somewhere.
I was just a means to an end.
I have been disowned by my parents
A pregnant 19 year old Muslim girl with brains for days all alone in a cold world.
That was 8 months ago.
I’m completely showing now. I got rejected to the other graduate school I applied to on the sole basis that I had a baby and could therefore not balance raising a child with the tedious schoolwork expected. My spot in the one school has been given away because I rejected it to be with a liar.
It’s a cold night. The past 8 months have been cold nights. Dream-filled scream occupied horrors.
I’m walking and patting my belly.
I look at the tattoo I got when Derin and I moved away. It says “beginnings” in fancy black ink etched on my right wrist.
I’ve reached my breaking point. I can’t go on anymore
“Help me” I whimper. “Help me begin again”
The solution speeds towards me so fast. I have no time to comprehend what happened.
There’s absolutely no pain as the cement carrying truck hurls me into the air. For a moment, I’m suspended in time, my tears freezing cold. In another I’m hurled to the ground and pass out in brief respite.
Lights. Blinding lights.
“Reni if you can hear me, blink twice”
I’m still. I look around to see who they’re calling Reni
Because my name is…
I don’t remember my name.
I’m a mental mute.
Strange faces peering over me. A woman holding me, her perfume filled scent choking me. She’s shaking and crying as she holds me. Another man stands above me wearing the gravest look I’ve ever seen.
Who are these people? Where am I?
Who am I?
Sharp pain. Permeating my head.
I can’t see quite well.
“Need rest” I mumble
As I turn to my side waiting for the warm embrace of sleep, I see something etched on my hands.
It says “beginnings.”