Tuesday, March 23, 2010

This house is haunted, right Ashley?

The first cut is the deepest. We all know that, right?

On the jagged coastline of Oregon. Where trees have been forced, by the wind, to become prematurely crippled and hunch-backed. Where sharp black rocks stick out of the cold sea.

That's where the dull knife cut into me for the first time. It left an ugly scar. That looked as if it was purchased in a Halloween-shop.

She was my cousin. I know, this is getting gross. She was 21 and I was 14. We had been visiting for the whole week, my dad and I. It was all in the family. Card games and Sunday roasts every night. My dad and my uncle and his wife hitting the whiskey pretty hard. Me and my cousins sneaking away to smoke stolen cigarettes.

I would mostly play with Ashley, who was my age. Her sister, Heather, was hardly ever around. She was going to college in Chicago.

One night we locked ourselves into the walk-in closet with some dessert wine and a Ouija board. Heather was a beautiful goth-girl and looked like Satan's bride already; her skin so pale it was almost translucent. And gray eyes that would quickly shift into black if someone said something stupid or tried to contradict her. She would beat up Ashley all the time. 'Just because she was annoying and used to eat boogers.'

We are going to talk to spirits, she said. This house is haunted, right Ashley?

Ashley nodded and took a swig from that sickly sweet wine, and passed the bottle to me. We had everything set up and I was starting to get that warm, tingly feeling of alcohol. The candles cast mysterious shadows on us and made us feel really daring, cool and adult, in the best meaning of the word.
Meanwhile, I hadn't even gotten my period yet, and Ashley wore braces and had blunt features and a weak chin that would forever condemn her to be invisible.

So who wants to ask the first question? Heather asked. We all had silly drunken smiles hanging onto our faces. She poked me in the crotch with her sock-foot. I don't know if it was on purpose, but I felt a surge of electricity tingling its way up my spine.

OK, I said, clearing my throat. Who are you? We had one index finger each on the glass. Nothing happened.

What do you want? Heather asked, looking around the dark closet filled with mothballs and unfashionable coats.

And then the glass started to move across the Ouija board, spelling out: I w-a-n-t t-o c-u-r-s-e y-o-u

We giggled. But I could tell Ashley didn't like it anymore.

Why? she asked faintly.

The glass begun to move, faster this time: B-e-c-a-u-s-e.

That's not an answer, I said and pretended to accidentally stick my foot into Heather's crotch.

Then the glass swished away and wrote: K-i-m i-s g-a-y.

Ashley stared at me. Then she started to cry, and bolted out of the closet.

I went down to the beach with Heather, where we polished the bottle off. Our parents were smoking bong hits on the porch, but the wind was roaring though the hills and whipping up dust clouds that covered our tracks.

Don't ask me how, but in a way I knew she was just toying with me. But seduction has never felt so good. Hazy with wine pumping through our veins and blood throbbing between my legs, we tumbled around in the sand.

After she had seduced me and I had gone down on her and was totally blissed out, we slept for an hour or so, wrapped tightly in each others' limbs, underneath her long, black cardigan.

She said I was good and that I was pretty and that she liked girls.

Me too, I said.


And the next day a bunch of bullshit happened that I'll tell you about another time. We never visited Oregon again. And Heather never wrote me.

But I still think about how perfect that time on the beach was.

13 comments:

  1. sometimes it is not the first cut that is the deepest but rather they escalate in strength until you are old enough to take it and still bowled over and clutching your bleeding thigh. (wait. apparently i am speaking literally here? i know you mean metaphorically and i actually do too. it's the same in both cases.) i think when you realize you're gay and that someone else is too there is this compulsion to be with them regardless of who they are or whether you're even attracted, you know? like a secret shared between you. especially so young. my first made me go weak at the knees for just this reason. and i told her all my secrets which backlashed in my face a week later. and there have been other times.

    also? beach sex is awesome. no matter who with or what the circumstances.

    also? this is a beautiful story. ouija boards are strange things and i am afraid of them.

    xx x

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  2. Thanks for your sweet comment and good luck with remembering his name! Even I forget which is part of the reason I blog to keep note :)

    Have a great Tuesday xx
    http://hopechella.blogspot.com/

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  3. i love this kim. it reminds me in a strange way of bits and pieces of my own childhood. beautiful.... as are you.

    xxx
    t

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  4. Wow. That was a great story. I wonder if your first sexual experience plays a big part in your gender preference when you get older. My first sexual experience was with my best friend at the age of 12. I don't know if he is gay, as I havent spoken with him in over 20 years, but I know what he and I did definately had an impact on my sexuality. Then again perhaps I am wrong. It's not like I can live life over again and see if it turns out differently.
    I love the pics as well. Gothic with a hint of innocence. Nice. Thank you.

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  6. I used to use Ouija boards but it never worked.

    It's interesting the memories we keep, and more so than that, the way we choose to remember them. I think you're right, the first cut is the deepest, I know I've still got mine.

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  7. i'm in the middle of an identity crisis, i just blogged about it, anyway.
    and i'm curious because was it the ouija board that told you you were gay, or did you just know?

    i need to know how to tell.

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  8. Thank you all for your sweet comments. You do fucking rock!
    Anise, I agree with everything you said, and yeah, ouijaboards are creepy.
    Eva, I don't think it really worked. I think it was Heather that pushed the glass.
    Bella, I'll go to read your blog in a second, but for now, I think I sort of knew, but mostly, Heather definitely knew and just wanted to out me.

    XOXO, Kim

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  9. hehe.. sweet sweet memories.. really nice :)

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  10. Yeah... I guess it's very dark in those skulls.
    The kind of foggy dark one doesn't like.

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  11. i've deprived myself of your writing for sometime- glad to have this start my day off.

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  12. I have never used a Ouija board before and have always wanted to, but carefully. You never know who's soul you can interrupt.

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  13. Interesting. What else to say?
    Beautiful as always.

    xo, Sophia

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You Rock. I am certain of it.