Her feet tapped along to The Beach Boys, while she paused in her writing, her eyes far away.
The door was closed. The door was almost always closed. In a corner of her mind, she heard the pounding of feet on the stairs, the yells of her sisters, the voices of her parents talking, the creak of floorboards, the click of the dog's nails on hardwood floors.
In the evenings, she could smell dinner cooking. Comfort foods. Southern foods. There were stews and casseroles and roasts. Vegetables out of the garden, piles of yeasty rolls. The scents wafted through the house, making her stomach grumble, forcing her mind to the present. To the four walls surrounding her, to the sound of her name being called up the stairs.
She resented the interruptions, irritated by the sudden pull towards reality.
In her room, she could spend hours in alternate worlds, hours where she was herself, but...different.
In those worlds, her hair was long and thick and straight. No one called her Sally Jesse Raphael because of her large red glasses and short curly hair. She was taller, thinner and boys didn't leer at her boobs, watching her run across the gym during PE, each pounding step sending a humiliating bounce across her chest. They didn't ask her what size of bra she wore, laughing at her bright red face.
She wore clothes that didn't "drape" to hide her shape. She wore acid wash jeans and cute T-shirts that were made for girls, not boys. People laughed at her jokes, understood her puns, thought she was interesting and normal.
Yes. Normal.
Deep inside, in a place she seldom visited was the world where she was normal. Where she talked to boys on the phone. Where she got asked on dates. Where she played volleyball. Where she went to pep rallies and football games and dances.
It was a place where she giggled with girlfriends about boys. Where she had posters of pop stars on her walls, took ballet classes and knew about the party before it happened, rather than after.
It was a guilty, dark place. A place she visited with furtive glances. In that room, she wasn't the Good Daughter. She wasn't the Responsible Older Sister. She wasn't the Good Student. She just was.
She never stayed long in that room. Why bother when reality was so drastically different? Besides, there were other places she could go. Places filled with romance and adventure.
She scribbled those places down in her notebook, willing herself to believe in their truth until, miraculously, the pages transformed into a golden plain where she walked, leading her trusty horse, her long skirts kicking up dust while the boy walking next to her raved about her flaxen haired beauty. She raised her face to the warmth of the sun and smiled.
This was a piece for The Red Dress Club RemembeRED memoir writing prompt. This week we were asked to visualize a room from our past and take our reader there. I hope you enjoyed it and, I'll have you know, I was under the word count this week.
Do I get a cookie? Or at least a gold star?
Per usual, constructive criticism is always welcomed. Just preface so I know to grab a glass of wine.
In totally unrelated news, I'm reviewing the most disgusting spaghetti sauce ever over at Makes Fun.
44 comments:
You get 2 cookies and a gold star! I love it! Being that busty teenager the boys leered at, I spent a lot of time in my own 'room' as well. I still find myself wandering there from time to time. Well done, I particularly like the imagery of the rest of the house and how it interrupts the world you really want to spend time in. Thanks for sharing such a private memory.
This post paints such a vivid picture and really brings the girl and her struggles to life.
lovely. utterly lovely. took me back to that feeling of being a teenager.
this was so good. Your vivid descriptions took me there with her.
Oh, this took my breath away. SO beautiful and SO true to my heart, which has definitely been there. I love it.
such a relatable piece! the room of a teenage girl is a sacred sanctuary.
and the feel of an old house, brings me back there too!
cookie for you!
I love this and can totally relate to the safe-haven of your room when you are a young girl. So well done, Mandy, you get a cookie and a gold star.
I can relate to this so much.
Your descriptions are wonderful.
Cold Star.
Cookie!
I totally feel like I'm a teenager again, hiding from everything outside in the comfort of my room.
I honestly don't think there's a kid out there who thinks they're normal. Which is why this post is perfect.
Oh, this is great. I felt like you were writing about me. I love how you captured the dreams and reality and emotions so well.
Wow, very lovely. Definitely gold stars!! I would get lost in my room too when I was a young girl. It was my world away from my THREE brothers! ;)
p.s. little typo in 1st sentence of paragraph 7. "..her hair was be long..." just thought you might like to know! :-)
No wine needed, unless it goes well with cookies. I really love how you put so much person into this room. One that all of us can relate to. Well done, my friend.
Not to split cookies or anything, but don't tell me I was done before you started because your post was friggin' amazing.
This was an interesting one to write. When Chad read it, he said, "I don't get it." It wasn't until after a couple of other ladies read it that I realized that he'd never get it because he was never a teenage girl.
To be honest, I loved this prompt. It made me feel a bit vulnerable, but I enjoyed sharing my room. :)
It was me! There were so many of us in school. I wish I would have known then. :)
You know, it wasn't until I started getting comments that I realized all that pent up teen angst was felt by pretty much everyone. I really wish I would have known that back then!
Thanks, lady. I guess we all look at the other kids and assume they feel normal which makes us feel ever more abnormal. :)
Now if only I had the metabolism of a teenager...
I have to order out for chocolate chip cookies. My MIL and one of my BF have actually won RIBBONS for their chocolate chip cookes.
Thank you.
Thank you! I just fixed it. :)
I can't imagine three brothers! I had three sisters and that was drama enough.
I felt like I had to separate myself a bit from this even though it was memoir. I don't know why...maybe so I could look deeper? More objectively?
LOL, take a look at this post and the pictures and YOU be the judge ;)
http://viewsfromnature.com/2010/09/10/red-writing-hood-a-letter-to-me-circa-summer-91/
Thank you! I was so surprised at how many comments said that they related. I guess we were more the same than different, you know?
Thank you!
I miss living in an old house with the groans of wood floors settling, the hidden treasures in the garden and the drafts that kept the air cool.
I gave you chills? Wow. That's a HUGE compliment. Thank you!!
I love hearing how everyone else related. I wish I would have known that I wasn't much different than anyone else. :)
Thank you so much.
The difference between our dreams and reality. It's always a huge gap, isn't it? Especially when we are teens. My angst manifested differently and I was a lot angrier, but I relate to that feeling of being separate from the rest of the house. Not feeling a part of that life, or not wanting to. I loved this line "She resented the interruptions, irritated by the sudden pull towards reality." I still feel that sometimes!! But now it's about my kids!!
Mandy, I love how you have captured the place where you could escape into fantasy-a room within a room. Good job with the word count! This is the first time I've done this and I was obsessed with staying under, as if someone would take away my birthday if I went over. But as I read these, I realize I'm not paying any attention to length.
Oh, forgot to say that Cooks Illustrated "perfect chocolate chip cookies" are pretty close to perfect... I had never been satisfied with any chocolate chip cookie I ever made until I tried these a few weeks ago. The recipe and review is a relatively recent post on my blog if you are interested (the Cooks Ill. website requires a subscription). I'd share one of my cookies if you were here!
I know that room and that place very very well.
So perfect, Mandy. Really.
Oh Mom! I was so worried about you reading this.
I didn't have an unhappy childhood. Far from it. A crazy one, perhaps, but the only way we could have solved that is for you to ship the girls off to boarding school.
It was that strange time, that teenage time when I felt so awkward and alone and different. But I felt safe to dream and write and drift off to my other worlds and that's because you and Dad were always there.
And yes. Boys are idiots. lol
I'll pop over and check it out! I have to say that I'm a disaster as a baker. I'm the one who doubles the butter and forgets to double everything else.
Hehe...I'm AWFUL with the word count. I usually blow past it in the first draft and then sit and agonzie about how and what I'm going to cut.
Me too! (Shhhh...I think that makes me a bad mom.)
I think it's the age...we're supposed to separate and distance ourselves because we're so close to leaving.
I'm so glad you enjoyed it. I have to laugh because my husband read it three times and said, "I still don't get what you're doing. I mean, you TOLD me but I'm not sure I GET it." :)
Thank you! There's a tiny part of me that wants to make sure my children have those rooms as well. After all, that's where dreams are dreamt.
Oh geez. You can tell I've been reading some emotional posts, can't you? I sound like a Disney character!
It doesn't make us bad Moms, just Moms with personal things that we want to do, like writing!
And READING!! Oh I just wish I could shut my door sometimes and escape fully into a book. Then again, if a few years when the kids don't want anything to do with me, that very thought will make me sad.
I lived in that room... I wore that body. You brought it all back... do I thank you? Well done....
such a guy - that Chad is!!! wouldn't want it any other way! but, isn't it strange how they just don't GET IT???
ohhh... I think this is worth at least a dozen cookies... but I've notice you are "by-passing the cookies"...
this is outstanding! could-a been me, only I spent my time writing on the platform in the orange tree! sounds dangerous huh? actually, the platform was only 4 feet off the ground!
Oh Chris! Your room must have had an amazing view!
Oh, this is great. Came by from TRDC and so glad I did....
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