CHIARA'S LAMENT : Chapter Three


Talking Heads
This Must be the Place (Naive Melody)

Home is where I want to be
Pick me up and turn me round
I feel numb – burn with a weak heart
(So I) guess I must be having fun
The less we say about it the better
Make it up as we go along
Feet on the ground
Head in the sky
It’s ok I know nothing’s wrong . . nothing

How could she become everything she despised in other people? It had happened so insidiously and now she felt like a cliché. A woman that who for all intents and purposes has it all, two healthy children, a hard working husband, a lovely home, new car, she had all the trappings and was indeed trapped. She never wanted a mundane existence and fought like hell to avoid it when she was young. Chiara always stood out from the crowd and compared to her contemporaries had moved mountains. She had gone from troubled teen voted most likely to be expelled from the roughest school in the district to University student while friends found work in factories or took up sniffing glue. Many were now junkies or had wound up very dead. Chiara’s aspirations were loud and colorful like herself in her youth. Now she had forgone the life she wanted for the suburban dream, resulting in a nightmare for her, sometimes she wondered if she herself wasn’t already very dead.

Sleep had been an issue of late; 4.00am becoming her standard wake up time. Lying awake this morning she thought once again that she would be positive, make the most of it.

Tip toeing out the front door she pulled it closed behind her and set out onto the street. Jogging provided some relief. Thinking of work she set out, mulling things over as she felt a delicious twinge of freedom. By the time she had reached her house again she had planned her day and set herself some goals. By 3.00pm when she had to do the school shuttle once more she would have the rough drafts for Scarlet’s mural finished and an outline for a business project she had conjured. “I really miss working” she was mumbling out loud as she walked back into the house.
“WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?!”……”The kids woke up and thought you had been taken for ransom, LOOK Toby hasn’t stopped crying and is hungry, get Ollie ready and stop fuckin’ dreaming – snap out of it! Do this again and I’ll fuck’n kill ya.” David was not happy. She looked around the kids seemed fine and the only one with a problem was a grown man. “Good morning you two.” Scooping Tobias up and ushering Oliver onto the kitchen with a back rub. “How are my most handsome boys this morning?” Nice start to the day, her stomach churned and she entertained thoughts of smashing a chair over her husbands face. Not fair, not good, Fuck you too! He was storming up and down the hall…”Where’s my navy pants – you are so slack, jog, jog and you don’t know what fuckin’ day it is…Useless! Silently she walked to the wardrobe and plucked the neatly presses trousers from the rack placed them in his hand and walked away. 30 minutes later the children had been fed, dressed, beds made and as David headed for the front door to make his exit she heard “You’re the best Chi’ see ya” and he was gone.

The best at swallowing my pride and every need I ever had. Closing the bedroom door and staring to undress suddenly she stopped and slid down to the floor hugging her knees and prayed for strength. Just get the boys off to school and Kinda’ and don’t let it affect them; please don’t let them see me cry. Hot tears fell heavily from her face. Looking up she caught sight of herself in the mirror. What on earth have I become? And glaring back she knew….defeated and weak.


Move – Get – up….

After a couple of minutes self indulgence Chiara refused to give in and picked herself up off the floor and stood staring into the mirror. Apart from the gaunt face she resembled a fairly well put together human being and was grateful her post baby body was surprisingly better than it was in her youth.

For a moment her mind wandered into previously unchartered waters.

What would another man see???

David had long since over looked her body and went straight into position. He knew what he liked and marriage had afforded them the luxury of confidence; their love life was a no holds barred event, pre and post children. Thinking of him she was possibly the best lover she had ever had…would she eventually lose that too? Quickly pulling on her clothes she thought about her inability to share her body with anybody she did not love. Chiara was one of those rare creatures by today’s standards that equated love and sex, one could not occur independently of the other.

Who is going to met and fall in love with the likes of me?….I’ll never have sex again…

Suddenly things seemed even grimmer.

Thinking of sexuality she began to ponder the life of a female. Since pre pubescence predators had stalked her, she fought off her first advance at six years of age, and shuddered remembering the confusion encountered as her still wet bathing costume was peeled down exposing her undeveloped feminine body, it shamed and angered her. The Seventeen year old boy that had lured her with promises of sweets was shocked when his approach was met with a violent verbal and physical attack. She was used to fending for herself.

Now at 36 she had become immobile by her circumstance and could not defend herself emotionally or even verbally from the man she had married.

She slunk to the floor and sat again. There was something very reassuring about it, no where further to fall.

Get up take the kids to school and kinda, don’t fall apart, no one will knock on the door and offer to do it for you…

She was in a bad place now she was alone – alone with her thoughts. Hugging her knees she felt herself sink to the bottom of a very pitiful well. She thought she would never be there again in that place called depression. The feeling rolled over her like a sea of cold porridge immobilizing her physically and numbing her emotionally. Hot tears streamed down her face and hung suspended momentarily from her lips only to fall further still. At 11.00am she surfaced from her room, the boys had gone outside to play. Red eyed and exhausted she hated herself today. The day had started with such promise and now her worst fears were being realized – she was losing control.

CHIARA'S LAMENT : Chapter Three

Dash Ette

Joined July 2008

  • Artist
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Artist's Description

I Struggle; I struggle to remain within the constraints of my life as it exists…

Strong currents pull and draw me.

Abstinence while pursuing unobtainable personal of perfection.

Madonna whore syndrome…

Even the anguish is pleasurable.

I pride myself in being good…

Artwork Comments

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