A Long Road Home

Wiping the sweet from her forehead, replacing it with mud. She then cautiously glazed up at the sun with squinted eyes thinking she would will need more water soon if she wanted to continue to play in the mud. The hot wind blew a dust of sand into her eyes causing her to jerk upward and stumble over to a bucket of warm water that had a tint of yellow caused by the reflection of the stained bucket.

Rosaline, knew she would have to gather more water from the well before dark, but she didn’t care, for there were many more hours left before sun down. Hours later once the air began to cool she collected two buckets both with silver worn out handles and began her mile journey down a dirt road. While most of us would think how much of a tiresomely, lonely, and difficult task this would be, not her. She knew no other way of life, this was it. Life was simple, easy, and predictable.

After arriving at the well she began filling the first bucket while glancing across the field she began day dreaming about any and everything, but mostly about what tomorrow would bring. Another day another chance for something new something different.

Nothing changed the next day or the day after that. One thing she had to look forward to was a play date with her favorite cousin who was 7 making him two years younger than she was with his older brother volunteering to babysit. Exploring the woods was their favorite thing oh and pillow fights. This is what they did everytime they were around each other except something did change. Something unexpected, something she didn’t understand, something that changed her.

Changed the way she saw the world, the way she trusted the men in her life, even the way she trusted herself. One moment being a carefree, happy, innocent child then Finding herself helpless, scared, and confused while hearing the slamming of a bedroom door, being forced down on a bed, with the weight of a man on top of her. The inability to fight, move, or even breath. This moment being her first kiss forced upon her lips, neck, then her body.

What happened next? I guess you could say life happened next well that’s what her grandmother would always say when something terrible and unimaginable happens. This was her way of coping or dealing with life’s hurdles. So this was what Rosaline, strived to accomplish when coming to terms with what she had experienced. Forgetting, pretending it didn’t happen, and moving on was what she had done or thought she had.

Looking in the mirror afterwards, trying to comprehend within a split second wondering where did that little girl go. All she saw was a broken kid looking back at her. Not even recognizing herself anymore.

That day staying with her always no matter where she went, what she did, who she dated it wouldn’t give up, just like a nagging fly that you swap away and as soon as you think it has gone there it is again buzzing in your ear reminding you of its senseless presence. As my grandma would say life goes on yes in deed. Days pass then months and before you know it years. Years of going to school then coming home, playing by herself, and then walking that dirt road buckets in hand, kicking rocks and swinging her arms waiting for something, anything good to happen.

Her hoping it was all made up in her mind. Mostly sad that the one thing she looked forward to was playing with her cousin was now replaced with hopelessness and misery. Knowing what happened to her was wrong but what can you do about it, nothing.

Eventually time goes on and the years go by. It was time to move away, away from that town, from her grandmother and away to the city. Experiencing failed relationships one after the other after the other never really thinking about the past. Her head in the clouds listening but not hearing, being befriended but was never a friend to others really. Waiting for something great to happen, she would even settle for something interesting. Someone once say “no matter what, this world won’t ever be right for some people.”

A long road home was