Izabell Key's Blog, page 7

You did not forget me. Right..? Daddy?

I can smell the damp soil. The flowers are wet. Yes, it rained. I see the rainbow path. It is like it wants to tell me something.
I am in the balcony. My eyes are closed while feeling the wind. I am sitting in my brown old stool. It is so old. I wonder how does it still keep me. When I was a kid it was easier. Of course, it was. I was only a nine-year-old childhood, thirty-three kg meat, some childish dreams, one hope, and a few disappointments. How heavy could it be?

Very.

Maybe instead of sitting on that stool, I should have been playing with my dolls. I should go out playing stupid games with stupid children on the street. On this straight street which you walked away… and never came back.

I tried to follow your steps. I followed them, Dad. I followed, but your steps lead me nowhere, and there was no store there. When you left you told me you go to the store to buy me candies. Where are my candies, Dad?

Where are you, Dad?

Now, I look at that street, and there is no one. The kids on the street have grown up. Lilia, the daughter of the principal, is a grown lady now. She will get married soon. “With a good healthy and wealthy guy,” the principal said. He never changed. He laughs always exactly as you remember. The snotty-nosed Michael is a soldier now. Jim works at a farm. He visits me from time to time. So yes, the street is empty now. Each one of them grew up but me…

I am still in my brown stool. Even the stool got old, daddy, but I am still ten. I am still the girl who waits for you. Of course. How can you give up on waiting for a dad?
You can`t. Maybe… Maybe if you did not leave me I would not have sit here for 3 days as a pickle brine left to dry away. Maybe my aunt would not have treated me as one old dirty cloth. Maybe I would have grown up like all kids around here and become a young lady like mom. Remember? You always said, “You will be a shining star, a beautiful young lady exactly as your mom was.”
I remember.

Maybe if I didn`t, I would have been happier, and maybe then, just maybe I would not have run of boys, thinking that each one of them will leave me one day.
I would have not felt so lonely when I graduated high school. I would have come and shown you my red dress just to hear how beautiful I am in your shining teary eyes. When Jim picked me up for prom, asking for your permission, I would hug you, laughing at your grumpiness. Then I would kiss your wrinkled forehead, and feel how proud you are.
I was alone… and the only shining teary eyes were mine.

Is your forehead wrinkled? After thirteen years? I cannot even imagine. You are always young and handsome for me. But you?
Did you forget me, Daddy?

If they ask I will tell them my dad never forgot me.

I will tell them I am the wind`s daughter.
I will tell them I grow up with rainbow and flowers.
I will tell them the rain is my mom.
I will tell my kids that every time I feel the wind, I feel your fingers through my hair.

Some taste of Shadow Ballet- Betrayal. Click on it to read it, guys.

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Shadow Ballet- Betrayal has a trailer!! :)

You did not forget me. Right..? Daddy?

I can smell the damp soil. The flowers are wet. Yes, it rained. I see the rainbow path. It is like it wants to tell me something.
I am at the balcony. My eyes are closed while feeling the wind. I am sitting in my brown old stool. It is so old. I wonder how does it still keep me. When I was a kid it was easier. Of course, it was. I was only a nine-year-old childhood, thirty-three kg meat, some childish dreams, one hope, and one-two disappointments. How heavy could it be?

Very.

Maybe instead of sitting on that stool, I should have been playing with my dolls. I should go out playing stupid games with stupid children on the street. On this straight street which you walked away… and never came back.
I tried to follow your steps. I followed them, Dad. I followed, but your steps lead me nowhere, and there was no store there. When you left you told me you go to the store to buy me candies. Where are my candies, Dad?

Now, I look at that street, and there is no one. The kids on the street have grown up. Lilia, the daughter of the principal, is a grown lady now. She will get married soon. “With a good healthy and wealthy guy,” the principal said. He never changed. He laughs always exactly as you remember. The snotty-nosed Michael is a soldier now. Jim works at a farm. He visits me from time to time. So yes, the street is empty now. Each one of them grows up but me…

I am still in my brown stool. Even the stool got old, daddy, but I am still ten. I am still the girl who waits for you. Of course. How can you give up on waiting for a dad?
You can`t. Maybe… Maybe if you didn not leave me I would not have sit here for 3 days as a pickle brine left to dry away. Maybe my aunt would not have treated me as one old dirty cloth. Maybe I would have grown up like all kids around here and become a young lady like mom. Remember? You always said, ” You will be a shining star, a beautiful young lady exactly as your mom was.”
I remember.

Maybe if I didn`t, I would have been happier, and maybe then, just maybe I would not have run of boys, thinking that each one of them will leave me one day.
I would have not feel so lonely when I graduated high school. I would have come and shown you my red dress just to hear how beautiful I am in your shining teary eyes. When Jim picked me up for prom, asking for your permission, I would hug you, laughing at your grumpiness. Then I would kiss your wrinkled forehead, and feel how proud you are.
I was alone… and the only shining teary eyes were mine.

Is your forehead wrinkled? After thirteen years? I cannot even imagine. You are always young and handsome for me. But you?
Did you forget me, Daddy?

If they ask I will tell them my dad never forgot me.

I will tell them I am the wind`s daughter.
I will tell them I grow up with rainbow and flowers.
I will tell them the rain is my mom.
I will tell my kids that every time I feel the wind, I feel your fingers through my hair.

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Why do we love it hard?

Huh, I caught you! I didn`t say anything! You are the pervy ones.

I was just thinking about how hard we do everything, and how hard we make our lives be. We always go for the hardest.  I guess we love hard stuff. 

What am I expecting?

We born in the hardest way ever.  You shit in your pants, and who the hell knows how hard it is when your first tooth comes into the picture. Gases, and ohh…

You drive your mom  crazy, because you are a pain in the ass, crying all day and night, just because you can`t speak. Think! How hard it is!

Then, you grow up hardly. You face the first love at the primary school, and you find out how hard is to understand girls. You have those damn homework to do, the first responsibilities. Probably get your ass spanked by your mama because you have to learn to share everything you have with your goddamned brother. The brother, which you will not understand his value until the hardest time of your life.

You groan in front of the mirror days and days, because you have a shitty zit right on your forehead. It seems so hard to you, but then you open your eyes and see the first problems. Maybe poverty, or maybe too much money. In either cases, it is never enough, it`s never izzy pizzy.

You go on. Your homework become harder.  You do so many mistakes, and pay hard for them. You learn things, but never from others` experiences and advises. You learn just from the hard way. You get fucked by fake friends, even your mom has told you to be careful  thousands time.

You steal some money from home, or you sell the red bicycle your dad had bought for you, and run away for a night or two with friends. Your parents hardly breathing in your absence. Then you come back to home, when your money is gone and your fake friends ran away, and you get the biggest thrashing ever, realizing that the spanking ass when you were six-year-old was nothing.  Everything is because of that girl. You wish to die when you realize the more you grow up, the more those girls become harder. Fucking girls… 

Responsibilities put a load on your shoulders day by day, and finally, there comes the moment which you understand that your life is a summary of your parents` expectations. Your own destiny is written. Your mother has already chosen your job. “My son will be a doctor.”  Your fate is utterly binding. Your dad always says, “Life is hard, boy. You have to work to become somebody!” So you really believe them, and work hard to get in a good place and to succeed in that hard life.

But it`s not you. 

You want tattoos, alcohol, parties, fun. You don`t want girls anymore, you want women. Pretty nasty women. But you get so high, and you go so far that you lose yourself. You can`t stop because you are afraid. If you stop you will look back, and see the disappointment on 
your parents`  face. Your dad probably is angry because of all what you did, and much more sad because of the bicycle which he had bought with all his heart.  Your mom? Probably it is unbearable to see her ‘doctor’ son being a…hard to call yourself like that. 

You hardly look back, but they are neither angry, nor sad. They take you back, embracing you full of love, and that makes everything much more harder. You understand what a big trash you are.

You work hard as your dad says. You finish the hardest schools. You leave home, and you go on your path. You need the hardest career. You work harder. You buy the most expensive house.  Then, you find the woman which is the hardest to obtain a date from. You rock it. It`s not hard anymore. You used to feel this bitter hardness until you started to live it, and maybe love it. It is not hard for you anymore. You want more. What the hell, you worked hard!

You visit your mom and dad from time to time, but you don`t understand why  that smile
fades on your dad`s face. Is he not proud of you? Of course he is, but… you are not sure of that anymore. You worked hard, as he asked.  Why the fuck he…  

You fight him. A stubborn silly fight, which makes your mom so sad. The point is just… he should be proud of you after all what you have done… 

You dive into your life even harder. Success is yours. Because you try harder and harder everyday. At that point, you understand the woman which was the hardest to obtain a date from was a regal bitch. Your business goes bad, and you are about to lose you house. 

Your phone is ringing. It is your mom. You take the first flight back. You have to pay the most expensive doctors to heal your dad! And you still are a fool. When you enter his room, you feel his gaze and the warmth of his breath on your cheek, and you understand it better. Yes, you are a fool.

You are happy, because he gets better. But he is even happier because you are home. You just don`t know that. You meet Katy, a beautiful woman on neighborhood. Not very hard  to get a date from her. A simple woman. But surprisingly, you like her. 

You speak with Katy and your mom to buy an old vintage Kentucky blue Cadillac for your dad. You know he likes it so much. You buy it, and he likes. But you know him. You can see his soul. He will never be proud of you. 

You help your mom with yard work, and just grow a beard. You see how nice it is to have one after so many years. You breathe!

You breathe but it only hurts, seeing how easy it was. How easy it was to be in that home. How you could be so… blind? No it is not the right word. How…

Your mom approaches you desperately. Your father will die soon. You all know that. You look at your mom and Katy… Then you start to run desperately. You run as fast as you can, and you find an old second hand red bicycle. The sweat breaks out over your whole body, bringing it home, but you smile. Because finally you get it. Not an expensive Cadillac would make him happy, but the cheap red bicycle. Finally, you get it!

You reach home all sweaty, but your expression freezes when you see your mom and Katy crying. You can`t blink back that burning tear which runs down your cheek as your Adam`s apple moves while you swallow. Losing a parent… That is the hardest one.

Your dad was so proud of you, and he loved you so much that he never could tell you how greedy you have become, how wrong you understood his words, or how hard you made everything.  Just because you found everything hard when it was easy, and easy when it was hard. Just like a racing dog, you stopped feeling that even you run anymore until you forgot your innocence, and destroyed not only yourself, but the other loved ones, too. Just for the satisfaction to have ‘the hardest’, or the most expensive, the most beautiful, the most… too many mosts….

You didn`t know. Did your father know when he was at your age? Neither did he. Your kid will? No, but you will be there for him or  her, exactly as your parents did.

We fight hard, because we have to. And yes, it`s nothing wrong on aspiring for more. Right, we were forced to love ‘the hard’ but we forgot truly beautiful and worthy things. In that world which they force us to try harder, to have wads of cash to be respected, to take the highest degree diploma to be appreciated, to have the most expensive car to get the best woman, we will never get rid of that.

But try to take a breath. Just breathe, and you will understand the red bicycle thing. Maybe in your story is not a red bicycle. Maybe it is  another thing. Try, and you will find out your father’s ‘red bicycle’ if you didn`t until now.

n

 

 

Fun;)

https://izabellkey.files.wordpress.com/2019/05/5bc7daec2ccbb4c1abbf1437bbfbb8f3-3.mp4

Oh… wow… I am back!

Hey, guys. You, probably, forgot about me. Even if you didn’t, you were just about to. I know, I know. It is my fault, but I have a good reason for that. I FINISHED MY BOOK!

And it was not izzy pizzy! The Shadow Ballet- Betrayal is on its way to meet you soon. I can not wait to share it with you, cupcakes. I missed to write it. Cupcakes… cupcakes… cupcakes… CUPCAKES!!!

I can`t help sharing at least my book’s cover with you.

[image error]I hope u like it. I made another eleven covers until I created this one :S: D

They say when you finish your book you have to stop and go to a party (you antisocial scum writer!) Okay. Considering I have never stopped from partying, I say there is no way of celebration but writing – a great post for you tonight. I will go to have a smoke now. Wait for me. I feel the inspiration. A short story will come out for you tonight, and I will post it as soon as I can. Kisses, cupcakes