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A Broken Girl With A Yellow Soul

Message from Writer

I write slam poetry to help me understand things.
It’s a therapeutic exercise.
Pick apart the best parts of me and study my quotations.
For I am hurt.
And I want you to taste it.

A Winter to Remember

November 25, 2019

         I wish I could hear her voice one more time. The leaves crinkle beneath my feet. It was her favorite sound. But her favorite season, was Winter. She got all bundled up in a bubble coat and homemade hat. She was so pretty when the snow would fall perfectly on her eyelashes. The way she would giggle when she would fall down. A blessing and a half. Beautiful, little angel that could never be forgotten, removed, or replaced. A warm girl in a cold world. The sunshine that sinks the moon. One that makes the grey days blue. Turns hatred into love. 
I miss her…
         I continue to listen to the leaves. A crunch. A crackle. A crunch. A crackle. All the way to my spot. A dead end road. Middle of the countryside. One house on the end. One street light. I sneak into the side cut in the old warehouse next to the house. I grab my flashlight out of my leather coat and click it on. I put it in my mouth and use my hands to unzip my coat and take it off. I put it on an old workbench. I take the flashlight out of my mouth and locate my corner. I find it and slide into it. I cradle myself into the wall. 
         I think about her. She might as well have been a complete and utter perfect being. The brunette glistened in my memory. The blue eyes pierced in my memory. I could almost feel the warmth of her soul. I come back from the vision. I feel the cold concrete under my body. I don’t do anything to warm it up. Bohemia was colder. 
December 2nd, 1997, 5:53 pm. Winter René took her last breath. It’s now September 1st, 1998, 3:35 am. And I, Bohemia Grey am sitting in the exact spot where she was brutally murdered. My sisters blood still stained a small corner rim. I grazed it with my hand. I grabbed my coat and wrapped myself in it, cuddled into the wall. I settle my hand against my sister’s blood, caked into the cracks of the cement. 
         I sleep. I dream about her and the leaves. I dream of her eyelashes and the snow. I wake up and I look at my wrist. 5:00 am. I throw my coat on and the flashlight in my pocket. I walk across the leaves again. I eventually make it to my “home”. I wouldn’t consider it a home. Not anymore. I walk through the front door. 
         “Winter?” My mother croaked from the couch. 
         “Bo, Mom. It’s Bohemia.” I say, reassuringly as I brush her bangs out of her eyes. 
         “Oh. Yes. Bohemia.” She falls asleep as a tear slowly rolls down her face. I tuck her into Winnie’s blanket. I tip toe into the kitchen. 
         “Winnie?” My mom repeated from the couch.
         “No Momma. It’s Bo. Remember?” I say from the kitchen. 
         “Oh yeah.” She whispers, just loud enough for me to hear. My father met me in the kitchen as he got ready for work. 
         “How many times was it so far?” He asked. 
         “Twice.” I watch my dad struggle with his tie. 
         “Better than yesterday.” He sighed. “Goodness, this is too difficult…” I grab both sides of his tie. I hummed a song Winter used to sing when she tied my ties for school when I broke my finger. 
         “Thanks, Bo. Take care of your mother.” He kisses me on the forehead and goes to the couch. 
         “Kat, I’m leaving.” He whispers softly to my mother. She reaches her hand out. Dad grabbed it. 
         “Did you pack Win’s lunch, Marcus?” It’s grilled cheese day and you know how our little baby gets with lactose.” She puts Dad’s hand on her face and kisses it. 
         “Winter isn’t her, Love.” He chokes back obvious tears. He kissed her goodbye. 
         “Bo?” She calls. 
         “Yeah. I’m here.” I call back. 
         “Grab my pills.” She sits up. 
         “How many have you had, Mom?” I ask from the bathroom. 
         “Just a few.” She stretches.
         “How many?” I sternly question as I walk into the Living Room. 
         “Four.” She stares at the floor. 
         “You don’t need anymore.” I grip the bottle. 
         “What’s a couple extra?” She reaches for the bottle. 
         “Your life. That’s what a couple extra is worth to you?!” I raise my voice. 
         “Bohemia Grey Baskerville, I am your mother and I need you to hand me those pills immediately!” She starts to stand up. 
         “Mom?” I panic. She falls back on the couch. Hard. 
         “It…it just numbs it.” She starts to cry softly. And I hand her the bottle. 
         “Goodnight Mom.” I whisper. 
         “Goodnight Bo.” She responds. 
         I clean the house. I look at my mother from the threshold of the kitchen. Still breathing. I walk up the stairs to Win’s bedroom. I quietly close the door behind me. I scan her closet for a dress I let her have. I find it. A yellow, V-neck, just above knee length, lacy dress. She was so gorgeous in it. I let her keep it after the third time she borrowed it. I dumped my clothes into the hamper in the hall. I slip on the dress. It was silky on the inside. She used to constantly play with the inner silk hem of the slip. Especially when the poor girl was anxious. I rip my blonde hair out of it’s messy bun. I give it a toss and a quick finger comb through. I turn around and catch my reflection in her full body mirror. 
         The dress feels wrong on my body. Not because it didn’t fit. It fit perfectly. No wonder Mom got Winter and I confused. Our bodies were identical. Despite the age gap. It felt wrong on my body because it was hers. It was her favorite. 
I remember the first time I let her wear it:
         It was the first school dance of the year. It was so warm, bright, and beautiful outside. She was nervous because she actually managed to get herself a little date! James Matthews. The only boy in the entire middle school who actually cared enough to open doors, carry books, and give genuine compliments. Good kid. The best for her. She was definitely the rainbow to his rainy day. But she ran home that day and practically fell up the stairs. And straight to my room. 
         “Bo! I need you!” She said, squeezing my hand. 
         “What’s up, Snowflake?” I looked at her and wiped the sweat off of her forehead. 
         “James asked me to the dance and it’s tonight and I got nothing to wear and I want him to like me, Bohemia Grey!” She flopped onto the floor. 
         “Winnie-girl , take a chill pill. Breathe. I will make sure you look your very best when James comes to pick you up.” I smile. I pick her up off the floor and park her in a chair in front of my closet. 
         “What are we thinking here? Black? Red? Navy Blue?” I ask, rummaging through the countless hangers. 
         “Do you have anything…bright?” Her eyes light up. 
         “Well, not my style but, I’ll see what I got for you.” I search in the very back of the closet waiting for a garment that would melt my corneas. Suddenly, I’m legally blind. Yellow. Doesn’t get brighter than horrid yellow.
         “Your name is Winter. Not sunshine.” I giggle and hold up the dress. 
         “I love it! Can I wear that one?” She asks politely, eyeballing the dress. 
         “Of course!” I throw the dress on her head. She changes into the fastest I’ve ever seen anyone change into anything. She looks in my full body mirror and spins in a graceful circle. 
         “So, how do I look, Bohemia?” She lets me get a good look at her. 
         “Beautiful, Snowflake.” I laugh. I sit her in my vanity chair. I took out her pigtail braids. Perfectly wavy hair. I lightly spray a layer of hairspray and pin her bangs back. I apply very little blush and a coat of clear lip gloss. Good Lord. She was so beautiful. Perfect. 
         “So?” I step to the side waiting for the sign of approval. And she looks at herself. And smiles. She stands up to look at her entire look. 
         “Win, I look amazing. But one, little thing…” She looked at her body. 
         “What? You look perfect. There’s nothing to change.” I put my hand on her cheek. 
         “My chest. It’s too tiny.” She looks down. 
         “Snowflake, if I know James as well as I think I do. He won’t care. He likes you for your personality, sense of humor, and attitude. Not how big or small your boobs are. You look so beautiful he won’t even notice. Now, be confident! Let’s get you some wedges, Shorty.” I plop some chunky white wedges in front of her. 
         “There you go. A whole 5’2!” I tease. 
         “Ouch.” She laughs. 
And then she left with the boy that truly loves her. 
         I come to. I’m still in the dress and I smooth it out. I throw on my black boots and grab my coat and bag. I run out the back door, careful to not wake up my mother. I find myself walking towards James’s house. I stop on a curb for a quick minute. I grab my Walkman out of my bag. I start walking to the tune of Wonderwall by Oasis. Soon enough I reach the front steps of James’s house. I knock. His mother answers. 
         “Hello Bohemia.” She says with a welcoming yet exhausted tone. 
         “Hi Lisa. Can I talk to James?” I ask, playing with the silk under the lace of the dress. 
          “Of course. I’ll call him out here for you.” She smiles with all the energy she has left in her body. I wait a minute or two. 
         “Hey Bo.” He smirks. 
         “Hey Kid.” I smirk back. He sits on the first step of the porch. 
         “What did you come here for?” He asks while examining the wood of the step. 
         “I put on Winnie’s dress and it reminded me to check on you.” I put my hand on his knee. “How are you feeling, Kiddo?” 
         “I just miss her. But, I have no room to talk.” His voice cracks. 
         “You have just as much room to talk as I do!” I reassure. 
         “She was just so amazing. She lit up a room. She danced randomly. She used to call me ‘Snowflake’ because she loved it so much when you called her that and she thought it was cute. I didn’t even know her very long. I’m so sorry. I have no room.” I watched a tear fall down his cheek. I pulled him in for a hug. He accepted it and cried into Winnie’s dress. We sat there for a couple hours. Just him. Crying into his love interests dress. On her sister’s body. He truly loved her for a young age. He truly found what he loved and it was ripped away from him during the bliss. He finally got out of the hug and looked at me. A lacy pattern imprinted into his skin. He wiped his eyes then looked into mine. He was purely broken. He patted the wet spot on my shoulder. 
         “Sorry. I didn’t know I had that all in me.” James said, still patting that wet spot. 
         “It’s alright. I’m just glad you got it all out. 


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  • November 25, 2019 - 4:41pm (Now Viewing)

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