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This is a story that I posted before but I did not like the way it turned out, so I took it of the site in order to revise it. With great help from greatodinsraven, I changed and added things to it to make it a better story than it was before. Thank you to greatodinsraven for all her help, blame me for anything wrong and give her the credit for whatever is right with this story. Please don't be shy about telling me what you think of this story, bad or good, it helps me.

  • Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.




  • Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


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    "Hi, Julia, Allison, Marcus, Willy. I thought I'd come early today, so that I can have some time to go over my lines," I said as I walk into the make-up trailer, so focused on reading my script and getting to my usual seat that I don’t even notice when Julia does not greet me with her usual cheerful smile or that no one has greeted me back. As I finish reading the last line on the page I finally notice the deaf like silence confined inside the trailer. I lift up my eyes and look around the trailer, at that moment everyone starts moving, going about their business like they hadn’t frozen the minute I entered the trailer and now they were unfrozen.

    Everything they are doing is normal, things I’ve seen them do hundreds of times before but somehow it feels wrong. Like there is something unreal in the way that Allison is reading her script, in the way that Marcus is flirty with Julia, trying to make people think that he’s straight, the way Julia's cheerful smile seems stuck on her lips as she put make-up on Marcus, like she fears that if she stops smiling, her mouth will do something she’s desperate for it not to do.

    I cast my memory back to when I entered the trailer, trying to remember how it was before everyone noticed me, had there been this tense movement from them? Or had it happened when I magically froze everyone with my voice. Desperate to believe that it is the former, but unable to lie to myself. I look over at Willy, knowing that he is probably the only one who is willing to tell me what is going on without any b.s, not because he’s honest but because he believes that it is his God given right to tell any and all business, unless it is his business. I decide to bypass Willy and just ask everyone else what is going on.

    "Did I get fired and everyone is afraid to let me know? Is that why you guys seem tense?" I say with a forced laugh, desperate for someone to interrupt me and tell me no, that they are all just having a tense day. I don't care if that is unrealistic, I just need it to be that response, or any response that does not end with me being fired.

    I see Willy open his mouth but before he can speak, Allison with her innocent eyes, at least innocent compared to mine and most of the people in this business, finally looks over at me with a fake smile ( something I taught her to do last week) and says "Your agent has been trying to get in contact with you." She does not answer my question but she answers my fear.

    I want to scream and start crying like a baby in that moment but I restrain myself, not because I’m strong or anything. . .but because if I do, my small denial will be destroyed and I need that denial desperately more than I need to cry.

    "Well I better give him a call then." I say with a fake smile and calm, normal voice that surprises and impresses even me. It surprises me so much that I quickly look into the mirror in front of me, to see if I’m still me or have I transformed into someone else. Someone who isn’t just standing because of a small piece of denial that God grants me. The face is still the same, the smile is real, so real that I keep looking at my lips wondering where do they come from because I never knew that they could form a smile that is fake and make it look so real, so real that it even fools me.
    I do not look into my eyes, I know my eyes will take away my little denial. My eyes are the most impressive acting feature that I have. I thought they would be my tickets to escaping the past but at this moment, they are nothing more than the weapon that will strike me down if I look too deeply in them because I've never been able to make them lie to me after the director calls "cut". Since my mom always taught me not to play with dangerous weapons, the one good thing she ever told me before she sold me, I turn away from the mirror without ever glancing into my eyes.

    I calmly and casually pick up my script and purse, like I've just finished a busy day of work and I’m just going home, not like I’m using all my strength not to let my muscles do what they desperately want to do, which is to run out of this trailer, leaving everything behind without looking back.

    "Go--um...I’ll see you guys later." My denial almost runs away from me with that stupid almost goodbye, but I pull it back, fold it over my head like a scarf and wrap every little bit of it around me like a coat, because I need every little bit of denial I can muster, in order to walk out without once showing a moment of trouble.

    When I get outside I quickly move away from the trailer, I don't want to hear what words my absence would allow to come out off the mouths of those inside. I put on my sunglasses and walk towards my car parked in the street. When I get there I stand for a moment debating with myself, should I go see Thomas or call him? Should I just walked in front of that car speeding by, like there is no car on the street? Should I just get into my car and intentionally get into a fatal accident? I finally notice the hot sun burning me, without making a decision, I get into my car and start the engine. I still have not made a decision when I start driving, I decide that wherever I end up today is where I'm supposed to be.

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    Everything hurts, my whole body is hurting me from head to toes without relief. I slowly close my door, surprised as I look around my apartment, not knowing how I got there or when the decision to be here had occurred. All I know is that I need to drop down on something, on that brown colored sofa or on the floor, makes no difference to me at this moment. I lean on the door for support and slowly slide down on to the floor, when I get down there, I don’t try to stand up, I just try to relax my tense muscles enough to stop my body from feeling like it had been in an accident. I open my purse and pull out my cell-phone. I slowly dial Thomas’ number, I could just hit speed dial like I usually do but I don't want to do that this time.

    I listen as the phone rings on the other end, when it reaches the third ring, I start to hang-up with a weird relief flowing through out my body but as I should have known by now, today is not my day for relief of any type.

    "Hi, honey, I'm sorry." As I listen to Thomas saying these words to me, I squeeze my denial tighter to me. Hearing no response from me, Thomas continues." I’ve been trying to call you since I got the news, but I couldn’t catch you, where have you been and why was your cell off for the first time in history?" He says with annoyance and frustration clearly in his voice.

    "I went shopping and I left my cell home since I forgot to charge it." I say with a normalcy that still surprises me.

    "Well next time charge it and keep it on because I'm sure you didn't like going there and hearing the news like that and I don't like that you had to hear it like that." Thomas says with a show of compassion that would have made me laugh any other time but only makes me close my eyes at this moment.

    "So it's true?" I ask, still desperately clinging to that denial. But all I hear is Thomas breathing, no hurried denial on his end, only on my end. As the silence continues I couldn't bear it, so I break it.

    "I lost four contract jobs in the last year and half and before that I spent two years without any work. Is there something you’re not telling me?" I ask, desperate for a reason as to why this is happening to me as my denial starts to melt away from me.

    "What are you talking about?" Thomas asks in a confused voice.

    "I'm asking you if there is something that I should know, something is causing me to lose or not get acting gigs. Is it that I'm not talented enough? Is it because my skin is too dark? Is it that I'm not pretty enough? I mean I know that I'm not a great beauty but I never thought I was truly ugly. So which one is it?" I demand.

    "There is nothing wrong with you, you are beautiful and your talent is impressive, every acting critics who has every seen you act, has stated this about you." Thomas says, clearly at lost as to how he and I got to this point.

    "Okay, since it isn’t my talent, or looks, there must be something else. Something that is clearly wrong with me, something that is making me the loser in this business, let me remand that last statement, make it this life." I say loudly, almost yelling as I try to keep the tears away.

    "Honey, you know this whole business is luck more than talent, your luck just has not arrived yet." Thomas says, trying to reassure me or more likely keep me from having a break down while talking to him, too bad his luck has run out today where I'm concerned.

    "WHEN THE FUCK IS MY LUCK GOING TO ARRIVE!!! It didn't arrive when I was born because surely if it had, I would have at least known ONE DAY of a mother's love. Everyone at least gets that.....EVERYONE ELSE GETS THAT AT LEAST ONCE IN THEIR LIVES, WHY DIDN'T I?!!!!!!!" I yell, I put my hands over my mouth trying to keep from spilling more but I couldn't. "Okay forget love, forget it but where was luck when my mother turned me into a currency for drugs. Where the fuck was luck!!!!!!!! Am I finally going to get it when I'm 6 feet under. Of course with my fucking luck that’s when it will finally arrive." I say hysterically, not even trying to keep the tears from running down my face now.

    "Sweetheart, please, please stop it. I'm sorry about this job but I promise that you will get your chance. I'll do everything to make sure that it happens. Just calm down and get something to drink, tomorrow I'll---." I hang up on Thomas before he could finish that last sentence, afraid of saying more to him, knowing that I have already said too much.

    I throw the phone against the wall as I think of everything that I did in order to keep this job, as the memory of yesterday drips into my brain, I feel my throat closing, everything in my stomach starts to come up. I manage to find some strength to get off the floor and run down the dark hall, ignoring the pain that was screaming throughout my body, hopping that I can make it, not really caring if I do, because if I don't, it will just be a perfect end to a perfect day, no forget perfect day, perfect week, perfect life.

    By some miracle, forget miracle because miracles don't even know I exist, so by the strength of my own body I manage to make it to the porcelain bowl and fall upon it with no strength left in my body. Without a care, everything that is in my stomach started coming out. Finally after I thought my throat was going to be raw from working so much, my stomach stops pushing things up.

    I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and crawled over to the sink, to rinse my mouth. As I pull myself up and wash my mouth, my eyes fall on the two pill bottles on top of the counter, I put them up there yesterday to remind myself to take them. Their labels, Doxycycline, Methergine appears to be laughing at me, silently but laughing nonetheless and I could not blame them, so I started laughing at me too.

    I drop down on the floor as I continue to laugh. Until out of nowhere this laughter turn into tears, uncontrollable sobbing, as I thought of this past week, finding out that I was pregnant by producer of the show that I was no longer on as of today, as I thought of the time I went to him, telling him and him begging me to get an abortion, because he reminded me of what a bad mother I would make. I mean I knew that I would be bad mother that is why I did everything in my power, except abstinence to keep from becoming one. But like always the only luck that follows me is bad luck resulting in a pea in my belly.

    So as I looked at my own history, my family history of less than good mothers, mothers that make animals look like mother Theresa, my career...yes my career, this job that seems like it would finally be my lucky break. I made the decision yesterday to choose my career over whatever was in my body, I mean it was best for everyone.

    I sit on the bathroom floor sobbing for what seems hours, every time I think I'm done, I remember something, I remember my luck in life from the day I was born until now and the tears continued to fall. It surprises me since the last time I cried was when at 7 years old I learned what went on between a man and child, a week after my mother sold me to the man who became my first lover. I know I shouldn't called him my lover but what else am I suppose to call him when history and biology in fact states that he is, he was inside of me, his tongue in my small mouth, his p---in my body. Definition states he is my first lover and still to this day I can't disagree or agree.

    As my muscles struggle to keep my body up, I let go and fall on floor. As I lay down on the floor, I close my eyes as the tears continue to fall, wondering if the glue that have been holding my pieces together has finally dried out and are no longer able to do anything but disappear into the air. I don't think I'm getting up again, I'm done..... of course if my shitty luck continues I will get up...just to be dropped down again.....harder.

    I don't want to get up, it's easier laying here. There is no pain, no falling, no doubts, no glory, no hope, just me existing on this tile floor wishing tomorrow wouldn't come. But tomorrow will come, I'll get up, I'll hate it but I'll get up. I'll get up for that 7 year-old little girl who endured her first lover, all the while swearing with every thrust of that big body forced into her, with every tear that fell silently down her cheek, with the last shred of love for a useless mother dying, that she would never, ever go out with a whimper, not by laying down. For that little girl, I'll get up, I'll tell life to go fuck itself, because I will not end where I started, where my mother ended.
     
                                                                        The End






    Chapter End Notes:
    Thank you for reading this, I hope you find something to enjoy in it and don't forget good or bad, tell me what you think.




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