Alone, She Walks
by DEE LEAN
(Edited by Kelly Fitzharris Coody)
Alone, she walks.
She walks in crowds of people, head turned down, studying her feet as she puts one foot in front of the other.
Nobody sees her.
She walks around strangers as they walk toward her, lost in conversation with their companion. They knock her shoulder as she weaves; she turns back to say sorry, but they haven’t even acknowledged the nudge.
She keeps walking. Head a little lower, heart a little heavier and soul a little more lost.
When did she stop being seen?
When she was younger, she turned heads, both men and women. Her eyes were once bright with wonderment and her cheekbones could cut glass. Her body was firm yet soft and smooth to the touch; her long, flowing hair made hands want to reach out and caress it.
That naive, young thing walked with dreams and hopes of the young.
But now she walks with nothing but the weight of the world on those broad shoulders. No make up, hair thrown back in a messy ponytail, clad in clothes that were cleanest and closest at hand.
Her body is ruined from where it grew life in her belly twice, scars that each tell a story. The lines on her face make her unseen by those that remind her so much of herself when she was younger and thought that she knew it all. She, in fact, knew nothing. And that was okay because she didn’t think she needed to.
But now she knows that life fucks us all, in one way or another. People aren’t what they always seem and you can’t ever really rely on anyone to save you…but you.
She knows she isn’t seen. But she doesn’t care; not any more.
Tonight, she will pull on those heels and stand a little taller and lift up her head a little higher so she can wear her invisible crown; it won’t slip off. She will remember she is beautiful and her eyes will be bright and full of life. Her smile will dazzle all who set eyes on her and she will be the bad bitch she always was.
She is the queen of her own castle, the one she made for herself. She will sit on her self-made throne and not give the slightest of fucks about whatever is thrown at her.
Today she wanted to be invisible. To be unseen. To blend in to the crowd. To be alone.
Tonight she will show the world that it doesn’t matter if the masses don’t love her. Because she loves herself and knows her own worth.
But sometimes she loves the solitude of being a no one and being invisible. It gives her time to think and make her next move in conquering all that told her, “You can’t.”
Because, yes. Yes she fucking can; she has and will continue to do so.
So she smiles to herself and keeps on going. One foot in front of the other, one day at a time.
***Dee Lean believes that a writer that doesn’t write is like a soul without a mate; aimlessly wondering without a purpose. Born in Belfast, Ireland, Lean currently lives in Melbourne, Australia and is a single mother to two gorgeous kids that get her up and inspire her to see and seek the good in all. When people ask her what she does, she simply says, “I write.” Lean is now a regular contributor at Sick Lit Magazine. She tweets at: https://twitter.com/Dede18 ***