Loved.

Popular

She was the most popular girl in high school . Everyone, it seemed loved her. The teachers loved her. She was the star of the sports team. Her classmates loved her, or so it seemed. She had the looks, the bubbly personality, and a way of interacting with others, that made them feel like they were so important. That they mattered. But truth be told, they mattered little to her. She was a very determined young woman, and knew exactly what she wanted from life. In short order that was a well to do lover, who would see to her physical and financial needs. An employer who would pander to her deep-seated desire for glittering carer success, and in the process garner her even more attention, popularity and self importance. As long as life continued along easy street, she’d be happy enough with that.

She knew how to use her good looks, which had already given her pretty much a free ride through life, on easy street. But she never was forced to develop a fully rounded personality. To learn to be kind, sympathetic, empathic with others. To develop a true sense of humour. An ability to laugh at herself and her own failings. People looked at her, and judged her personality and character on how she looked. Assuming, wrongly, if she looked so pretty, that her personality and character most surely match her physical attributes.

But for those that were on the receiving end of her caustic, critical and unpleasant  behaviour, it was quiet another matter. Her sick ailing Mother, whom she had come to despise. Judging her dementia as a weakness, and a self-inflicted illness, through a bad diet, and laziness, and refusal to activate and invigorate her mind. Many screaming matches had ensued between the two in the privacy of the family home , that they shared together. It was she who screamed, and her ailing mother who cowered, fearful and confused by such anger, and her daughters inability to be compassionate and understanding.
Her popularity hide well her nastiness, that was just below the surface. Ready and willing to come to the fore, when required and when out of sight of those who adored and worshipped her. Many were fooled by the expertly contrived show she was very capable of putting on. Her Mother on the other hand was fearful of her, and when not in a confused state of mind, eagerly awaited the day her daughter was to leave the family home.

It was one such day, after yet another one sided war of words between the two, again her Mother cowered. Eventually her daughter exhausted by her own screaming, anger and frustrations, settled back on the comfortable couch in the lounge. She let the images on the tv screen wash over her, and her tired mind and body. Sleep came easily and was very welcoming. The revery of her inner landscape, such a glorious escape from her irritating and increasingly confused Mother. In her dream world images of her glittering and comfortable future unfolded before her. The handsome Italian man she was sure would one day waltz into her life. Her future career filled with limousines, five star hotels, world travel, and of course important business meetings. Then onto her detached home , hidden by the large landscaped gardens.
Thoses very same gardens, in her dream where she rested, layed out under the mid day sun. After some time the heat becoming increasingly uncomfortable, on her forehead, her cheeks, and her jaw, and across her eyes. Discomfort to the extent where her skin felt on fire, as if it was melting. Striving now to wake up from her uncomfortable unpleasant dream, she struggled to open her eyes. The heat of her skin, searing and red raw. She touched her check, the skin unusually soft to her touch.
She watched, and screamed as the Mother,  she had angrily banished upstairs, stood above her, her eyes empty and lost, again tilted the contents of the steaming hot silver teapot over her once pretty face.

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