A prophet came to Marisol this
morning. This morning, in the twelfth
month, in the first day of the month, her mouth was opened and she was
no more dumb. She probably wouldn’t have remembered that today was her
anniversary if it wasn’t also her birthday. She lay in bed, eyes still puffy
from her fight with Greg the night before. Marisol texted Greg’s roommate,
inviting him to a party, and Greg spent the rest of the night yelling at her, according to thine envy which thou hast used
out of thy hatred. Thus with your mouth ye have boasted against me.
Freshly twenty-one years old,
staring at her phone, aware of what was supposed to happen. None of his sins that he hath committed
shall be mentioned unto him. She thought phony lines she could say to Greg
when she called him, but decided to send a lengthy text instead. Her voice
wasn’t good at faking affection. She thought of lines from Ezekiel.
She would say, today marks the day—the
first full year that I have enjoyed being yours. A new heart will I also give you, and a new spirit will I put within
you.
He would like that. Very metaphorical and poetic. Little did
he know Ezekiel was a Biblical text about the end of the world, which was
fitting, because today Marisol knew it was the end, for her. The mountains shall be thrown down, and the
steep places shall fall, and every wall shall fall to the ground.
Marisol began the text, but
backspaced it all. He can call me first, she thought, and threw the phone onto
the bed. This feeling of resentment was not too new. Marisol had been feeling
distant since about 2 months into the relationship, each succeeding day
realizing another part of her life that had dissolved since she started dating him.
Her dreams no longer belonged to herself. Her clothes no longer smelled like
her scent. She hadn’t been able to enjoy the introspection of getting high
alone and watching birds sing, or getting lost at the Met with headphones providing
a soundtrack for her adventure. She couldn’t even remember the last time she
painted, or contemplated life, or met someone knew. Even her damn phone wallpaper was a photo of them. All her multitudes. She tried to be a
good girlfriend by not talking to other guys, but since when is that a rule? Slain by the swords.
Marisol—ocean and sun, in Spanish.
Marisol—he marred her soul.
It’s not that she didn’t love him.
She just loved herself more and resented anyone who took away her freedom. Her
youth was being taken away by someone who didn’t deserve or appreciate it
enough.
I
will therefore spread out my net over thee and leave thee upon the land. When I put thee out, I will cover the sun
with a cloud. All the bright lights of heaven will I make dark over thee.
She would start her life on a clean
slate. Twenty-one, there was still time. Does
thou pass in beauty? She thought as she looked in the mirror. She smoked a joint out of her bathroom
window then ate a huge bowl of her favorite cereal. There was a tranquil
atmosphere about her and her thoughts were extremely contemplative. After
breakfast, she decided to take a walk along the river, alone. Instead of
noticing Greg, and losing sight of everything else around her, Marisol would
notice everything but Greg—the feeling of a warm breeze, the people walking by,
the men giving her smiles, the seagulls dancing in the sky, the reason the sky
is blue, whether North Korea would start a nuclear war, why chewing gum wasn’t
allowed in middle school.
Her stream of ruminating thoughts
was suddenly interrupted when her phone started ringing, which caused her body
to jerk. “Greg my boo” came up and she immediately hunched over the railing and
spilled out brown Reeses Puffs that matched the color of the Hudson. She quickly
pressed a button to make the sound of ringing stop. She couldn’t talk to him,
especially when she was high, especially the morning of their anniversary. She
quickly thought of possible excuses. Baby I slept in, I was getting you a gift,
I dropped my phone in the river, I was hitting up an old crush, I was plotting
our break-up.
Her heart rate was slowing now and
she sat down, staring at her phone, a sense of panic pushing down on her head.
A text immediately followed. “Mar, where are you? Pick up!!! I have a surprise
for you. Happy 1 year baby.” Tears started pouring down. It would be hard to
let him go but at the same time, she was filled with excitement about life
ahead.
Marisol knew what she wanted to do
that night, on her twenty-first birthday, on her 1 year anniversary, finally
legal to drink, finally legal to live. Go to her favorite rooftop lounge with
Chelsea, sip gin and tonics and pretend she was best friends with beautiful
strangers and vex the hearts of many
people. Every man for his own life. Then shall they know that I am the lord. All
of them slain, fallen by the sword. Her kings, and all her princes.
Greg texted again a couple hours
later: Where are you? You weren’t at work… are you mad at me? I’m sorry for
being a dick last night.
She decided it was time he deserved
a response. She had Book of Ezekiel memorized since she was thirteen. Thou hast defiled my sanctuary with all thy
detestable things, and with all thine abominations, therefore will I also
diminish thee; neither shall mine eye spare, neither will I have any pity. And
thou shalt know that I am the lord.
Works Cited
The Holy Bible, King James Version. New York:
Oxford Edition: 1769; King James Bible
Online, 2008.
http://www.kingjamesbibleonline.org/.
No comments:
Post a Comment