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Baggage Claim (Part Two)

In her forced state of sleep, Genevieve couldn’t block out the painful memories:

Many pairs of grubby hands kept reaching out to grab at her clothes. They forced her under them and ripped away her innocence.

Trapped in a castle of slavery, she was constantly used by unsavory men. Every night, she was passed around like a fascinating news article that all the men had to read, but were quickly done with.

Genevieve’s mind flashed through every time she was trapped and without a rescuer to save her from this empty life. She saw all the men’s fat faces and beer-bellies and she felt the heat of their rancid bodies when they pressed against frail one. Every slice in her pale skin was made new as she relived each horrific scene. To force her compliance, they used blunt force or just sharp objects that all left nasty scars.

Before long, she became numb in order to survive her constant torture. She crafted the compartments in her brain and locked away her emotions. Bottling up herself, she learned to become whatever different tramp the despicable men wanted. It lessened her bruises and cuts.

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Musings of the Smart Girl with Pink Hair and High Heels (Lenna)

          She hid inside a place she believed was safe. It was a shield on all sides and it allowed the breeze to flow. It protected her from the harsh rays of the sun and allowed her to cool off.

She took a ride that may very well be the cause of the end of her life. The trauma she experienced created a life threatening reality that’s all she has come to know.

Her organs aren’t where they should be. They are spilling out into other parts of her tiny body and every passing day takes her one step closer to her impending death. Time is her enemy and it steadily ticks away without a care to the damage it is allowing.

However, she acts like any other young, vibrant thing, but on the inside, she is very slowly dying. I try to comfort her and help her get stronger, but are my efforts enough? Will she survive surgery? By the end of this, will I have waited too long?

My head spins with unanswered questions and my fear of risk-taking is a hindrance, but I have to act. The alternative is too dire.

So now I take this tragedy day by day, step by step, and hope for the best.

Who is Miranda Clark? (Part Two)

Now that I have gotten you completely confused, I should probably start at the beginning. For starters, my name is Miranda Clark. I was born into a family of underachievers, mainly my younger brother who would love to do nothing more than to melt into the couch and watch endless hours of television.

My parents weren’t rich so I had the privilege to attend a run-down public school for my few years of education. As students, we were just a paycheck to the administrators and they continually found increasingly creative means to force us to stay in school. Some were good, some were bad. Once, they bought breakfast for the detention kids just so they would show up.

Lucky for me, my school days only lasted to the ninth grade. At that point I could have graduated college from all the information I had gleaned, but from an early age I decided I didn’t want to stand out. I would always pretend I didn’t know as much as I truly did. But by the ninth grade, they had figured it out...

I was quickly extracted from school and trapped in this facility. I haven’t seen my family in ten years and I don’t even know if they still believe I am alive.

Over the past years, these scientists (more like terrorists) have presented so much information to me that I thought my brain would burst. They wanted to test my limits, but that’s not even the worst of it.

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Musings of the Smart Girl with Pink Hair and High Heels (Death and Forgiveness)

I was told a story once…

He was an old man, had lived to his eighties. A miracle. He had seen many days, heartaches, and joys. He had family to love, especially a beautiful and kind-hearted daughter.

The fateful day that changed it all was one that seemed like any other, but this day held a sinister overtone. The drug and addiction flooded a young man’s body. He wasn’t in his right mind and all he desired was to get more, be more. What hardships had influenced him into his selfish decisions? Did he realize what he was doing as he held the knife? Did it just hold a sparkling gleam that demanded him to slice? What was going through his corrupted and destroyed brain?

The blade pierced the paper-thin layer of skin. The arteries burst and blood gushed. The old man’s eyes rolled back in his head as he convulsed. The last look on his face was one of utter disbelief. What were his last thoughts? In his last breath, did he forgive? Did he see the torture in the eyes of his killer? Did his eighty years give him the insight to see past the drug induced insanity before him?

Maybe my questions touch on the fiction I have crafted, but it doesn’t change the hard fact that forgiveness is the only freedom. The pain of the ones left behind can’t be lessened by hate or revenge.

The culprit may have killed, but what really had led him to that point? What’s the rest of the story? Did he lose his job and fell into depression because he couldn’t provide for those he loved. Did the drug seem like a nice release to him? Could he have just lost his soul-mate or a child? Did he feel alone in this vast world? Who did he turn to when he cried out in pain, before the drugs stole that role? What path did he take that led up to that one irreversible moment?

We all have baggage that we lug on our weary shoulders, but some turn to destructive means to give themselves the illusion of strength. Was he one of those? Even if he wasn’t and he was despicable enough to love the death of a defenseless, aged man, he still has to be extended the gift of forgiveness for the sake of those who can never forget. They can never feel closure or move on if they can’t forgive.

In hearing this story, I saw the gleam of pain in her eyes. She said it had been a few years and that the time had helped to heal her. But behind those words, I could see the smoldering hatred for the evil actions of that man. She hadn’t forgiven him and it just caused her more pain. One day maybe she will finally realize that forgiving will give her release, even though it will be one of the hardest things she has ever done.

Baggage Claim (Part One)

“Choose wisely.” The deep voice resounded across the small corridor.

Genevieve lifted her weary head to glimpse the man hiding behind the bars entrapping her. He smirked at her weakness and licked his cracked lips in expectation of her forced decision. She glimpsed a spark of evil glaze over his eyes and a slither of fear glided up her limbs.

Her hands were shackled behind her back and she felt the blood oozing from the cuts on her wrists. She tried to take a deep breath to calm her sudden nerves, but her broken ribs sent sharp stabs of pain into her middle.

Pushing her fear to the dark reaches of her brain, she glared at the menace before her. She gathered the last bits of her strength to spit at his boots, an action of defiance that she knew would infuriate him. A small smile of satisfaction lit her bruised face before he tasered her into unconsciousness.

Chance Gabor (from: Baggage Claim)

Chance Gabor is a private investigation with his girlfriend, Genevieve Channing. He is strong and very brave. He typically gets Genevieve out of the tough situations that she puts herself in. Unlike Genevieve, who is driven by intense emotion, he will sit back and study all the angles to craft a successful plan. He is easy-going, but smart and he normally picks up on the clues Genevieve misses.

Chance has almost black hair that is cropped fairly short. He has a long, pointed nose and thin lips. His eyes are green with highlights of blue on the outer edges of the iris. He has a strong chiseled jaw and cheek bones. He is very athletic and muscular in his 6’2’’ frame.

Strengths: Intelligent, Dedicated, Leader, Fighter, Loyal, Protective

Weaknesses: Sometimes Indecisive, Stubborn, Competitive

Genevieve Channing (from: Baggage Claim)

Genevieve Channing is a private investigator along with her boyfriend, Chance Gabor. She has a natural curiosity that is the driving force behind her career decision. She is athletic, a natural leader, and intuitive. Her mind is wired to compartmentalize, so she is a natural at embodying a different persona to get the information she needs. She is brave and strong because she is good at pushing her fears to the back of her mind, but she sometimes breaks down when she is haunted by the memories of her abused past.

Genevieve has long light blonde hair and her face is speckled with freckles. Her eyes are a pale blue that often reveal the vulnerability that she always tries to hide. She has a heart-shaped face with flawless pale skin, but her torso and limps are splattered with scars from her difficult past. She is also 5’8’’ and has an hour-glass frame.

Strengths: Natural Leader, Curious, Intuitive, Brave, Fighter, Risk Taker

Weaknesses: Vulnerable, Insecure, Not Trusting, Impulsive

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