New City New Book: Entry #9 Inner Workings

[Carmen Masters]

Sunday 1/5/2014

The room is quiet and still. With a quick motion on the remote the music starts, eyes fall closed as Carmen settles back on her bed. Her hand idly waves in the air to the slow rhythm. With her other hand she reaches over and under her bed pulling out a small case. Sitting up she places the box on her lap and pops open the latch showing it filled with various leather bound journals; some are clearly older while others look more recent. She leans over to grab her pen and grabs the journal resting on top the rest. Carmen lets her head fall back and closes her eyes mouthing the words to the song and swaying in time before going back to the blank page.

Where to begin, she thought, well it was the masquerade ball, let’s start there.

A grand party was had by all, ha yeah right, it was nice, looked good, beautiful set up, and much to my surprise there was even some dancing. I got so bored I was willing to dance with a Setite, silly independent, what has he done for the city recently? Anyway, Satyavati swooped in “rescued me” from the situation, in all it made everything better. Dancing with a familiar face and seemingly adding a jovial moment to the occasion despite the uptight stares of judgment I’m sure we were receiving. Honestly! This is ridiculous! Has or does one get so old that they forget what it is to live? That all they are consumed with is the devouring of power, the propaganda of clan this and clan that, or putting on airs and the like to seem above all this petty human behavior. It’s not petty at all, in fact it’s the most important treasure creatures like us can try to hold on to. I know too well, I came so close to losing it, completely, if I had stayed, if I..if it weren’t for… I was asked what I liked to do, since I mentioned that some particular activities going on at the party were not for me. Let me tell you, it was ridiculous, I’m sure fun for others and things they enjoy, and that’s fine, it’s good to find happiness where you can. But when asked my preference of activities, the safest ones I mention are dancing and reading, even to me I sound boring, but then I didn’t mention all the other things I do too, I mean I am not one for over sharing, or sharing much at all, it takes a lot of time and real trust for that to happen. I don’t warm to people quickly. It’s scary though, I’m thinking about all of this and wondering why I didn’t mention that I liked feeding the birds at night , or building sand castles on the beach in the moon light, or watching street musicians play songs and making up words in my head, or finding some place high above the world and just watching the stars and imagining if there are other worlds out there, and what they could be like, and if at all creatures like us could go, that’s when I realized those things are precious to me, there are only two people in the whole world I’d trust with that. But the scary part, the reason I am second guessing the answer I gave, is…well it’s Lottie’s fault, she told me to take a risk, GOD why’d did I ever listen to her, because jackass she is your best friend in the whole wide world, shut it! Aww anyway, I fear I opened a door that I can’t close, a part of me wants to because behind the door is safe, its home and it’s just Silas and Lottie, and the rest is all work. I do my job to the best of my ability and then my time is mine, right, that’s the ideal, that’s the safest route. But then why am I so confounded? Why do I keep that door open, what am I hoping for? That miraculously in this city full of cynical elders, mouthy neonates, and entitled ancilla that I could find a friend, a real friend, someone I could trust, not just with my treasures, but with….no I can’t even think about that, friends do not impose horrors like that upon each other, not ever. But of course that’s what you took a risk with wasn’t it dummy, I SAID SHUT IT! The ball was nice, it was also obvious that I am far too different to be..well I have to be honest to my heart, I have to believe that if I stay true to that, then I’ll still be me, and ..

Carmen’s eyes drift to the other trunk corner peeking out from under her bed..

..and that won’t ever have to see the light of night ever. I decide who I am, I decide what I want, it’s my choice, I won’t let go ever again, not ever. I am in complete control.

Carmen smiles and grabs a tootsie pop and when she finishes writing she drops the book back in the small trunk, latches it, and slides it under the bed. Safe might be better after all, she thinks as she bites through the center of her tootsie pop, she sighs, ok I feel like a nice walk. Carmen grabs her coat and hops off down stairs and out the door all the while humming Holiday by Madonna.