“The life of every man is a diary in which he means to write one story, and writes another.” -James Matthew Barrie

DIRTY BEAUTIFUL

A short story

As I lay on my back, on the old wooden bed, I watched the ceiling dance across the room. The intricate shape of each ridge and line empowered my imagination, and for a few minutes, I felt as if nothing were wrong. I listened hard, but I could not hear anything, for I was, once again, alone. Daphne was out doing her normal routine of standing outside the building and pacing, while her cigarette hung loosely from her pale, straight, sullen, lips. Bethany was out in the hall delivering her feelings to her new found boyfriend. Coral was at the store getting a jar of peanut butter. And Xander, was lying next to me in bed, sound asleep. I love to watch Xander sleep, he looks so innocent.
I must have dozed off because what seemed like only a few minutes really turned out to be a series of several prolonged hours. Once again, I lay in bed and listened to the sounds of the apartment. But they were interrupted by Geneva, my five year old daughter. She is a sickly little thing. Her brownish0auburn hair, just brushes her shoulders in a big knot of tangles and dirt, her light brown eyes, like pools of mud in a solitary tomb, and her skin, medium olive, like mine. Her face was streaked with dirt. Her orange t-shirt was slightly too big, and it hung off of her right shoulder. Her little green pants were covered in filth from playing in street previously that day. She was wearing no shoes and she had her head hanging low. “mommy”, she whpered “can I have something to eat?”
My eyes filled with tears, “No Geneva”, was all I could choke out. “But mommy my tummy is hurting”, she fussed. I stood up and approached Geneva. My hands shaking with rage from her whining. “I told you, we don’t have anything to eat! My God!” Geneva fell to her knees in tears, and I crawled back into bed, my eyes tearing up.
When Xander awoke, he took me in his arms and gently kissed me. “good morning sunshine”, he said to me. All I could do was cry. “whats the matter?” he cautiously asked.
“I yelled at Geneva”, I choked. “I almost hit her.”
He just stared at me with wide eyes. “Where is she?” he asked. “I don’t know, I went back to sleep”. I replied back to him.


Coral, Daphne, and Bethany were sitting on the floor playing cards when I finally got out of bed. “hey Gen, did ya sleep well?” Coral asked. I just shrugged at her and shuffled into the bathroom for a long and hot shower. But when I turned the fading, brass knobs, nothing happened.
“Hey Daphne!” I cried, “wheres the water?”
Daphne replied “We didn’t pay the bill this month. Or last. Or the month before that. They shut it off. Just don’t worry about it.”
I did worry about it though. I remembered a time when I was younger and my brother put me in the bathtub. He said I smelled. I had no idea at the time what he was doing, but when I learned of the horror he portrayed on me, I wished death upon him. I shuddered at the memory, and a single tear streamed down my cheek. I walked into the kitchen, and caught a glimpse of myself in the chrome sink. My tall, thin body, with the hourglass shape, and my long straggly auburn hair, and my sunken medium green eyes, made me look sickly. So this is what death looks like, I thought to myself.


“Xander!” I yelled. “What is wrong with you?” I watched him stare at me in bewilderment as I caught my breath and sat down.
“I think I should be wondering what is wrong with YOU” he said in a cold tone.
“You haven’t been acting normal in weeks.”
“I HATE HER!” I yelled.
“Hate who?” he cautiously questioned.
“GENEVA!” I screamed at him.
It was true. I hated her. I wanted her to die. So I thought. But all I could do was mope around and cry. Why hadn’t I ever stopped him? I thought as I dreamt about past events.
Bethany set her hand on my back to pat me, and I turned around and slugged her. Natural reation, I guess.
“What was that for? You bitch!” She yelled.
“I’m sorry!” I started crying.
Then it dawned on her. “I’m sorry I touched your back.” she gently said.
“Its fine.” I reassured her.
Five days later, Geneva turned six. I tried to throw a party for her, but I had no money and I couldn’t bear the thought of doing something for her. She walked around with a sad look on her face for nearly three days after her birthday. I felt that she didn’t deserve a party anyway. She whined about being hungry when she knew damn good and well that we had no food.

I started counseling today. My doctor told me that I’m depressed. He put me on a prescription drug to help me sleep. Didn’t I sleep enough anyway? He told me to tell him about my childhood. I laid back in the chair, closed my eyes, and started talking. I was scared at first.
When I was three my father left me on the subway with my older brother. My brother raised me until I was twelve. At twelve, he sent me out alone to fend for myself.
“Hmmmm.” He said. “what happened between the subway and your brother setting you free?”
I just shrugged.
“Well? Are you going to talk to me?” he urged.
I just shrugged again.
“Well fine. I will put you on an anti depressant and send you on your way if you have nothing else to share.” he said to me, sternly.
“Wait!” I said. “I’ll tell you. When I was younger, my brother would hurt me. I have a huge scar on my shoulder because of him. He burnt me and beat me when I was twelve. Then left me in the apartment to fend for myself. All I have is my friends.”
“What about your daughter?” he asked.
“Oh. I hate her.” I bluntly replied.


My daughter no longer lives with me. She was placed in a foster home. So much for telling the truth.


As I lie here in bed, I watch the ceiling dance across the room. The intricate shape of each ridge and line, empowering my imagination. For a few minutes, I feel as if nothing were wrong. That is the way my life should always be. But it isn’t. It is quite the opposite. Maybe someday I will pull my self out of this horror, known as life, and reside in a little house with Xander by my side, and the beautiful daughter that I will never learn to appreciate.