How It Happened posted 9/23/2009 8:19:19 PM | 1 kudo what's this?     report abuse

LipGlossQueen9

This blog was sparked by coming home from the hair salon and the eye doctor to find my front door ajar when I was sure my sister closed it. We live in a peaceful neighborhood with many neighbors who have a watchful eye, and so rarely do we lock our doors except at night. Now I can't be sure, but I have an idea what happened. Luckily nothing was stolen or destroyed, and all my animals are perfectly alright.


I remember perfectly the day it all started. After a conversation with Jeanine after Sociology class that afternoon, I remembered suddenly my desire to read the book that had arisen in eighth grade after I read The Communist Manifesto. I think I never read it because I knew I wasn't ready for such heavy material at such a tender age. Besides, The Communist Manifesto influenced me so much that I became a Communist. I knew better than to get myself into what would come with reading the other book.

That day after Sociology, I stopped at a deli before going to the library and bought a bottle of Diet Coke Plus. I had never had it before, and I wanted to try it because it was infused with some vitamins and minerals. Plus, the packaging was pretty. I walked to my car, opened it, and tasted it, and it was much heavier than any other soda I had ever tasted. Quite frankly, it tasted weird. I didn't enjoy it.

It took me about five minutes to get to the library, and I sat in my car for what seemed to be about fifteen minutes drinking my disgusting heavy mineral soda while dreading what I was about to do, or perhaps thinking it over...wondering why I was really doing it. Maybe I should have trusted my gut and never gone in there. After all, if I had to think it over for so long, there was obviously something wrong with it. It weighed on my conscience too much.

I went in, though. I looked up the call number on the computer catalogue and walked straight to the back of the library. I don't know why it was in "biographies". Later I understood, but the fact that it was back there intrigued me. I took it off the shelf and gazed at the front it. It was red with medieval white lettering. He was faded in the background, and you couldn't really see him. I quickly grabbed it and walked through the library aisle as if I was walking to my death.

I placed the book on the counter, and the woman gave me an odd sort of look. It was like I was checking out the Satanic Bible, or something: some sort of sacrilegious document that people were not allowed to touch. I looked to the side and muttered something under my breath about having to write a paper.

When I got to my car, I opened the book and slowly ran my fingers over the yellowing pages. As soon as I got home, I walked into my room and began to read. I read, and read, and read, and read. As time went on I got lost in it. The ideas jumped off the page at me. I was frightened. I was exhilarated. I was attracted. It was almost orgasmic. In some sort of non-sexual way, it made me horny. The ideas were attractive to me. I was a lost soul wanting to belong. That allowed me to belong without trying.

That was how it began. That fateful day that started with a disgusting bottle of too heavy mineral soda with a pretty package that wasn't worth the few dollars I spent on it and ended with me flopped on my bed not being able to lift my head out of a book that led me to a year of a place I'd never thought I'd be.

I guess it was like how I watched Cannibal Holocaust the other night even though I knew I shouldn't. It's like a bad smell now: the smell of skunk. It won't leave, just like skunk won't leave your nose after you're done smelling it. It's trapped there. I knew I shouldn't read that book. I knew I shouldn't watch that movie. But I did them both anyway. Who knows why. Maybe the entire time i was a morbid sense of curiosity.

That whole journey that started with picking up that book. It hasn't brought anything positive to my life. Now it's led me to coming home and finding my door open, and I just know, in the depths of my heart, how it happened. If I had trusted my intuition and left the library that day...I would have been able to avoid this situation.

Why regret, though? What's the point? It needed to happen. I had to fall in love with it. With him....whatever him you want to interpret that as, because in truth...I do mean both.

"Why do you keep on talking about this, Renae?" Because it's not something I can put behind me. It's not something I can forget. Those who forget the past, history...even their own...are doomed to repeat it. I can't go back there. I refuse to go back there.

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