Kuia I

Kuia awoke to a cold mist that rose from the ground forming ghosts outside her window. She stared out thinking that it was perfect conditions for the purgatory she was now in. Sleep, it came very little and very troubled. Had she slept an hour? Had she slept the night? She could not know as time and life had now seemed to be encapsulated and surreal. It was to her if she was watching things unfold from outside of her body and her mind.

Stretching ever so slightly as the cat named Tom Gray circled and lay down beside her hip. She was hesitant to move, listening to the soft purring of the old companion that had lived in her grandmothers home for what had seemed forever. Kuia would not move and she would not budge. She was tired, tired of everything. Her thoughts had become dark and cloudy, cold like the coming of a storm but now she was in the eye of it all. Feelings coming in torrents and then devoid from anything.

Kuia lay there meditating on sorrow, she was feeling the death of her spirit with only Tom witnessing. Whispering to herself as she buried her face into the pillow, “You think you find the one you can spend the rest of your life with. The one that sets your world right will be there for you in every way. You find one you give your heart, body and soul to, to be the father of your two sons.”

Kuia paused to look up at Tom who stared at her with yellow-eyed sympathy. Her shaking hand lightly stroking through the cats bluish gray fur, “ You set up house together, start to learn each others' quirks and habits, learn to get along, help each other balance. Yes we argue every so often but not anything that can't be fixed through compromise. I so thought that he was the one, the one who would be with me til the day I died.”

The woman’s fist pushed deep into the pillow as she sat up and let her feet hit the weathered wooden floor, “Yeah Right! It was all just a fairy tale. Love, companionship, it is all fancy ideals given by the old and written in poems. Why is it that they neglect to tell you about heartache, pain and hurt? They never give eloquent words to describe what you thought was foundation turning into mud. It was never in the poems, never in the happy tales of man and woman. Why has it turned that the arms that used to hold me has become the tail of a scorpion? Tom to be like you and not feel this: I will refuse to feel this.”

Kuia sat silent as Tom ran through the opening of the chamber door. Palms on her knees she couldn’t seem to lift her head. She wanted to lie back down, to rest, perhaps with totality if it could be wished. But the kind woman in front of her would not allow it. Kuia’s eyes raised a little glancing passed thick dark strands. Kuia truly loved the woman but with the breaking of her heart someone other than Kuia seemed to dwell behind the deep brown eyes.

Kuia made her way passed her grandmother without greeting: such pleasantries where false and anything false should not be uttered. Gazing emotionless at her sons that whispered and shied their eyes away from her, she said nothing and went to prepare the meal that was expected duty. Toms head tilted as he watched the woman walk toward the table his eyes quite focused on something that could not be there. Slowly and methodically the small hand guided the blade through the long yellow vegetables. Her eyes devoid as if staring off through some unknown window, the sounds of the children and grandmother far away in the distance like the rushing of falls.

Kuia what is life for? Yes it is dependency, created to serve without thought of your own needs, without feeling the need for compassion. Haven’t you discovered that your heart no longer matters, so what are you? You’re simply an object, a tool, a thing that does what it is programmed to do. You eat, you sleep, you wake, you give a courtesy smile and you keep your mouth shut and your heart locked. This is where you will find peace.

You realize your place as an object and nothing more and it feels so safe. An object feels nothing and to feel nothing in itself is the greatest pleasure. Don’t cry, don’t smile, don’t laugh, and don’t think. Just do! Routine it is all routine Kuia, think about it and you will see. You are just biology. You piss and shit and bleed: you’re nothing beyond that. So give up ideals, dreams, faith, and hope. If you give up on it all, then you will not know the pain anymore.

Grandmother’s hand stroked Kuia’s shoulder as a trickle of blood from Kuia’s finger dripped into a small iron pot staining the slices of squash that were to be used to make the meal. Kuia yanked herself away and took the bowl to a wooden bucket of water to clean and restart. Grandmother pursued, her eyes creased with worry and concern. But when Kuia’s eyes met grandmothers they were not as they once where, the playful and mischievous wonder was gone. Now they burned with anger, don’t touch me! don't hug me ...don't tell me you love me ... touches are false, words are lies!