"Conversations with my thirteen year old self" by Rice

Title: Converstations with my thirteen year old self...

Author: Rice
Writing: Short biographical story/ songfiction
Word count: 1474
Warning: Beware of epicness

The sun was high up in the sky a couple of hours ago and now it was coming down to northwestern sky. The sun's rays were blocked by the white thin blinds from the window; there were only a few openings enough to see the squalid kitchen.


Dirty dishes piled up in the sink, messy stale crumbs scattered on the counter tops and the wooden floor, and dust roamed the air. I have been watching this home for a while now, and in a week itreduced to this state.


A pregnant mother was sleeping upstairs in her room in depression; the loss of her dream because of another dream that was less desiring for her. The boys were out, wanting to get away from the desolated house, and the father was burying himself at work, avoiding the raging fights between him and his wife.


Their home was nothing more, but an atmosphere of struggles and suffocation of loneliness and misery. They thought moving here was a good idea and in the end, it crumbled to nothing, but unthinkable decisions.


I sat there on the couch in the living room, facing the unkempt kitchen. I heard footsteps treading down each step of the stairs in a sloppy, lazily manner. A girl between thirteen and fourteen years old walked into the kitchen, carrying an empty cup.


She went over to the water dispenser and placed her cup in it. She pressed a button and water came out, pouring in to cup, filling it. She pulled her finger away and grabbed her cup, placing it on the counter.


She stood still for a while, deeply thinking about something as she stared hard at her water. Finally, she opened the cabinets above her and looked through the bottles of medicines and pills.


She took out on small, pill bottle that was prescribed by a doctor months ago to her father. Her eyes fixed on the labels of caution and dosage; she took out three pills.


I kept watching her in anxiety and fear; I know what she was planning. She had done this several times now, but never actually took it. Would she do it now?


After a couple of minutes, she put the pills back into the bottle dejectedly and placed it back inside the cabinet. The fear dropped, but I worried more for her. She went ahead and drank her cup of water, her hand shaking a bit, almost spilling the fresh, cold liquid.


Conversations with my thirteen year old self


Conversations with my thirteen year old self


I stood up and went over to her, and even though it took her a week, she finally saw me.


She choked on her water, spitting some of it back into her cup. She wiped her mouth, looking at me with surprise. She kept looking at me with that frightened expression.


After a while, she regained her composure and demanded, “Who are you? And what are you doing in my house?”


You're angry
I know this
The world couldn't care less


“What were you doing just now?”


She looked at me with wide eyes. “I didn't—nothing! I—!”


“I know what you were going to do...the real question is why?”


She didn't answer me.


You're lonely
I feel this
And you wish you were the best


She asked again, “Who are you?”


“Are you alone?”


“No, my mom's asleep upstairs—”


“You are alone.” She was silently mad, but I continued.


“How's school in Venado?” I asked and she cringed.


No teachers
Or guidance
And you always walk alone


“It's fine...” She lied. I know how it has been, because she was from a socially malicious and poorly educated neighborhood before. She was judged unfairly by the teachers ;they were not nice to her. They didn't support her enough; they never tried to help her.


They thought of her as a girl with no future; they didn't know that they were adding more problems on her shoulders than she could handle. There was no one she could talk to about it.


I saw the tears pooling in her eyes.


You're crying
At night when
Nobody else is home
I leaned back again the large couch and sat on its frame. I held my hand out towards to the girl and she
looked me with a confused expression.


“Come here,” I told her.


Come over here and let me hold your hand and hug you darling
I promise you that it won't always feel this bad


She looked at me hesitantly as her hand reached out to mine; I took it and pulled her over to me.
My arms embraced her, and I felt her shudder from my touch. I felt a small, droplet of water on my
shoulder.


There are so many things I want to say to you
I pat her head. “Shh... I know what you're going through...”


Immediately she pulled back from me. “How would you know?” She asked me, her eyes glaring at me
as if I could never understand.


“I've been through it...” I told her. “I know it's been hard for you...”


You're the girl I used to be


“I was thirteen just like you...”


You little heartbroken thirteen year old me...


She looked at me strangely, before quickly rubbing the few fallen tears away. She looked at me again,
before she started to laugh at me without a care in the world.


You're laughing
But you're hiding
God I know that trick too well


“Don't force yourself to laugh,” I said.


She scoffed at me, “I'm laughing because this is ridiculous—”


“You're laughing, because you don't want anyone to know.”


She was upset. “Shut up!”


You forget
That I've been you
And now I'm just the shell


I stood up. “You know I'm right! I know how it's been, girl. I know you! I've been through it all! You
made—” I stopped.


You made me this way.


I promise
I love you and
Everything will work out fine


I walked over to her and hugged her again. “Everything will be okay...”


Don't try to
Grow up yet
Oh just give it some time
I felt her shudder again and when she tried to pull back, I held her tighter. “Everything will be
okay...wait and see...”


The pain you feel is real you're not asleep but it's a nightmare
But you can wake up anytime


When she stopped struggling, she started to cry again.


Oh don't lose your passion or the fighter that's inside of you


“You have to keep fighting,” I said to her. “Don't stop. Keep living.”


She held unto me tightly and cried harder than before. “I hate this! I hate my life! I hate my parents fighting! I hate my brothers who won't care enough to see! Who ignores this! I hate living like this!”


I pat her head and rocked her in my arms. I know her pain...


You're the girl I used to be
The pissed off complicated thirteen year old me
“I want my mom and dad to stop fighting...” she said in a whispering, desperate tone. “I want to be
given a chance... I want mom to keep the baby...”


After a while, we sat down around the dinner table...


Conversations with my thirteen year old self
Conversations with my thirteen year old self


For an hour, we talked. She told me all of her problems, and every single thing of it, I knew. I kept telling her that everything would be okay. Life isn't always fair, but it has some of its beauties. It will get better, and that's one of the beauties of life. Keep going, keep living...


It was half past four and I know that her father and the boys would be home at anytime soon.


I got up. “I have to go now...”


“Are you coming back tomorrow?”


“No...”


“Then when?”


“Someday...” I said and she got up to hug me. I hugged her back.


Until we meet again
Oh I wish you well oh
I wish you well
Little girl
Until we meet again


“We'll see each other again though,” I said to her. “It will be a long while, but someday we will...”


“You will come back?”


“Sure, why not?”


Oh
I wish you well
Little girl
I wish you well
Until we meet again


I kissed her forehead and she reluctantly let go. I headed over to the entrance of the house, leaving her
behind. For a moment, I stopped and looked back at her tear stained face. I saw the new, unknown
resolution to live in her eyes and her adamant expression.


I nodded to her. “Good bye...”


My little thirteen year old me...


And I left.




Artist's note: This story is partly true. Inspired by the song “Conversations With My Thirteen Year Old Self” by Pink.


P.S. It did get better...