The Caterpillars Spoke Not of Her Success but Her Weirdness. They Wanted Her to Change Back into What She Was, but She Had Wings.
Autor: laila.15 • January 9, 2017 • Essay • 1,504 Words (7 Pages) • 80 Views
January 15, the year 2000. 27 year old Magda had given birth to little Maria , and that's when it had all begun.
Maria grew, from one month to two months to three months to four months and soon to a year. From a year, she soon went to two years and three years and four and she just grew and grew. Those years were incredible, watching her grow was incredible. Seeing her radiant smile as she sped up and down Rose Street trying to catch Bernard her dog, her strawberry blonde hair flew back as if it were getting naturally blow dried by the wind.
Those were the precious years, but as the day turned to night and it become close to when everything began to change, we realized that Maria's radiant smile was lost. Her strawberry blonde curls turned into angry knots and her bones that peeped through every part of her body, screamed all about the pain inside of her, it peeped so badly through her skin, almost as if it could speak and say, " please, take me, save me from this grief ".
It all happened on May 18, 2012. Maria was 12 by then. She anxiously awaited her fathers usual arrival after work, after two extra hours of waiting, where was the old mans knock? Why couldn't she hear him yell, " The old man is home". At the third hour of waiting, her life changed forever. Driving past Long Street in the upper part of town, the old man was gone. He crashed into a younger female, and there and then, he was gone, forever. Maria screamed and sobbed until she vomited. She cried for weeks and months and it soon became a ritual. She couldn't handle it. She began to take weed and drink alcohol and soon her rosy cheeks were sunken into her bones and her eyes represented the zombie characters in a child's movie.
Maria couldn't handle that the old man was gone. Despite that, her mom couldn't care less, a few months later she had found a new old man, and soon he put a ring on it.
Maria was left alone to suffer. Sometimes, I suppose she was happy, when she was with her friends, throwing her head back and covering her mouth as she shook with laughter at a joke that someone just made, but then day turned to night, and her carefree grin turned into an unexplainable sadness, etched on her face like a tattoo, and she lay in bed, thinking about all the things she wished she could say, all the things she's too afraid to admit, even with only pen and paper and mind, it's nights like those she felt that she was many things, she was happy and sad, outgoing and shy, rambunctious and quiet, but mostly she was just empty.
Maria's life continued like that for years and years, she adapted to the way things were. She knew it couldn't change to what she had before and she realized that it was what she had, and not what she has anymore. Maria couldn't stand the replacement of her old man, so she agreed to live with her grandparents so that she wouldn't have to face him and then turn into a fierce witch ready to chant an evil spell of violence.
Ever since the crash, Maria never changed into who she was before. No, she was not heartless or cold and uncouth. No she was not rude and arrogant, but she mastered the art of telling people very little about herself in such a way that they thought they knew a lot, but I knew Maria. I called her a butterfly and a tortoise. A tortoise because she was hard on the outside because she wanted to protect herself from attachment and protect herself from ever being broken, yet on the inside she was sensitive and could easily be hurt, therefor I described her as a tortoise. I called her a butterfly because she was so delicate and soft, and only I saw it, just like a little butterfly ready to soar.
Maria become a girl who didn't want to know much about anything besides the necessities. She didn't tell anyone anything, about where she went or who she went with or how much fun she had. Social norms meant nothing to her, and I found that absolutely beautiful. She hated memories and never took photos or saved any photos from anyone.
Maria had cowardly characteristics and every time I told her, she would say she knew and