Monday, March 15, 2010

i slapped her. i watched her face burn with the sting.

I remember her nightgown. It always looked ratty, despite the cheery tulip print. I remember her soft doll feet. I loved touching those cool velvet soles to my cheeks, then covered with pimples.

I was desperate. And I had so much anger inside me. I didn't know what to do with it. Except keying cars and smashing telephones.

She had raven-black hair, so shiny you could use it as a mirror. (If you wanted to see yourself, that is). She would fall asleep outside my door. on the flesh-colored carpet. It broke my heart, but I was already to used to that sort of hurt, I guess. When i would wake up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom; there she would be, curled up with the door sill as her pillow, asleep, her features melting.

There was only sweetness in that girl, Carrie. She came from Chile. Had grown up an orphan. And it was possible, they said, that she had something wrong with her brain.

Who doesn't?

But she didn't know what to do with those toys that are supposed to teach you useful grown-up things. Like how to count M&M peanut-looking balls. Or to fit basic shapes into the right holes. One day I got so agitated watching her try to push a square into a star-shaped hole that i slapped her. I watched her face burn with the sting. Then I watched as the bottom lip begin to quiver, and those brown, sweet eyes that had seen fuck knows what, filled up with tears.

She cried. I cried.

Then I slapped her again.

Oh Carrie, can you ever forgive me?

Because I don't think I can.


  1. oh carrie, can you ever forgive me?

    because i don't think I can.

    I know exactly how you feel.

  2. Frustration can make for some powerful regret. I love how you say "she had something wrong with her brain. who doesn't?" I think for some it is just more obvious to the outside observer, but we all feel it.

  3. beautifully written, as always.


  4. Your writing scares me, in a good way. You have such a wonderful way of starting off in such a subtle way and then I get hit with something odd, disturbing or in this case violent that always makes me feel uncomfortable. I really like the feeling.

  5. your writing is always so fascinating to me. everything you describe i've wanted to to but don't have the courage to do it. you are so raw. love it.

  6. oh kim oh kim. you make me want to cry. as always. what you write elicits this visceral reaction in me and it burns through and leaves me smoking. i smell of charred ash. maybe because our emotions are the same though the circumstances are completely different. so i am changing your tenses and applying your pronouns to myself: i am desperate. and i have so much anger inside me. i don't know what to do with it. except taking it out on myself.

    anyway. i want to email you an essay, the one i told you about. the question is, are you ready to know my real name?

    xx x

  7. It's always hard to look back to the cruelty of your childhood from your adult perspective. Then, you were just mad and probably felt bad, but now you see how cruel it was of you to do that when you see it from an adult context... Hellish introspection....

    But it does make for a great story, and she probably doesn't even remember.

  8. reading this gave me a sense of almost primal sense of love and compassion and a very civilized sense of guilt. it really captured my heart.loved your description of her. but don't take this the wrong way. carrie's wasn't as vivid as you usually do. but beautifully done none the less. and the point of view is strictly the adult's. and i think its better this way. i liked it. :)

  9. kim-

    i don't know where to respond to you. seriously i'm always torn... fb? blog, no that's not right? e-mail (too stalkerish) haha. anyway whatever. you are right about aa. dove the owner is a complete prick. one of my good friends has a lawsuit against him for sexual harassment. they are a great place to get staples for me, and as i do have a problem with them only using 15 year old girls for their ad campaigns, it's not enough to make me stop shopping there.

    hope you are well gorgeous one.


    p.s. itty bitty 5'4 1/2. but i like to round up to 5'5 (=;

  10. beautiful writing
    i like your style of writing
    it feels........old if that makes sense kinda like the books i used to read
    anyways cool blog :)

    thanks for the lovely comment on my blog :)

  11. The end of this story is so sad because I know for a fact it's happened to me. Frustration gets the better of us and can lead to feelings worst than that.

    Much love,


You Rock. I am certain of it.