The Forgotten & Slaved

Lost Bird~ (Entry #10) {1995}

Dear Diary, 

The night of the wedding rehearsal was short-lived; and my ventures into the unknown universe soon overturned into a dramatic awakening. The lavender infused scent had calmed my nerves for awhile. However, whether it seemed right or wrong…my life was overruled by “the wicked witch” herself. I envisioned a green haven sweeping over me that would nevertheless… transform into a vicious cyclone. The pieces of my heart would shatter and my emotions would be numb from the betrayal I felt deep inside of me. My father had betrayed me just for the fact he considered marrying this “Narcist Bitch”. Regardless, Kris was just a venomous snake in my eyes. 

My fever had subsided after my luke warm bath the night before. My heart pulsated with rage as well as pure disgust for this vermon. I didn’t want to conceal my inner intellect…but as a small person we had no entitlement to reveal how we felt in the world. So, I remained as silent as a lamb…engrossed in my own putridness. The wedding would soon take place at a church across the hill. I would be my father’s “flower girl”. My dress a coral white; would be engraved with beading and covered with fragments of flower-like decor. Why was this happening? This pretentious women was only after “profit”.

 I had discovered my father had encountered her very ubruptly on a casual summer morning. I had been visiting my Aunt’s that same summer, and my dad was obviously bewildered by her slightly odd disposition. She had been supervising a crowd of individuals as a flight attendant. She was neatly groomed with her hair slicked back in a tight bun-like style. Her curled side-bangs were pinned back to expose her exotic facial structure too. He had stumbled upon her smile…but lusted over her seductive image. They had introduced each other with mutual interests and began to go on habitual dates. Well, she was far from attractive…her heart was full of blackness; but I suppose being civil with this vipor was all I could do at this point in time. 

The wedding ceremony had begun. My dress was a bit tight and cut off my circulation. I was walking down the aisle with numerous faces watching me like a “lost puppy”. My stomache tightened now…a basket full of petals around my arm. Did they expect me to comply?…Like I was some damn “raggedy anne puppet”? People were easily convinced over simplicity. (laughs). A couple more steps now and I would be reaching the alter. My father stood with a white tie, black dress pants and a suit. He reminded me of a young “Tom Hanks” character. Dark hazel eyes, light complected, soft onyx locks and a fit figure. Coincidentally, his confidence left a unforgettable impression for most narrow minded “imbosols”. (Laughs).

Finally, the bride was next…her vail covering her face made her appear as if she was a “Chuckies Bride” ( Perhaps a bit of slight Exaggeration). Still, I could not apprehend what my father had saw in her. Surely, this was happening…and I couldn’t prevent it. The ironic part…was shortly after they both exchanged vows. The wedding band my father had ordered at an online pawn shop…had completely failed. The size was too small and the consequences had soon followed. The ring had fused to her finger! Finally Karma had taken it’s toll ( I chucked quietly to myself). It was obvious the ring had to be removed immediately. The circulation from her finger would soon be cut off and she would have to be transported to a hospital facility…on her “wedding day”.

We soon were escorted to a back room of the church and ice was brought to the “bride”. Her finger looked distorted now due to the pressure of constantly pulling to retrieve the over-sized diamond ring. I stood amused of course…it wasn’t everyday you saw a bride struggle with so much in one day. The room remained still till the occurance was resolved. Kris has rested her finger in a ice filled compartment for several minutes…then low and behold…the ring slid off! Her finger was swollen and a bit discolored. Oh and the best part of the day…I spewed all over the carpet due to endless anxiety. My father was not by any means a happy “camper” that day. 

Well, what was done was done…no small person could hold back a good regurgitation of left over cake bites. A supreme chocolate dessert to suppress my hatred towards the women my dad tied knots with. The upheaval of disgust lingered in the air…metaphorically speaking. Meanwhile, the after party soon approached and my father had explained all children were prohibited. Loud music played in the background and crowds danced to “Love Shack”. It was a wild party that night…lots of boos were provided, catering, dj’s. My father seemed most content; so I just let things unfold when time permitted itself. 

Good night Diary. 

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Kristi has told her testimony to over 2,000 foster youth in 2012. She continues to inspire many with her creative writing style and chilling stories depicted by an innocence and horrid journey.

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Posted in Diary Entries
14 comments on “The Forgotten & Slaved
  1. Sreeblogs says:

    Liked it…not all sad…a bit different from previous entriesπŸ‘ŒπŸ»πŸ‘ŒπŸ»

    Liked by 1 person

  2. micketalbot says:

    A little sad, definitely pleased she was not getting anymore beatings!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Summer says:

    Surpiisrng to think of something like that

    Liked by 1 person

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