I spent the past year blaming Orlando for my shitty, for lack of a better word, circumstances but I am just now realising that it has nothing to do with where I am. It’s just Life teaching me how to be alone.
Let me clarify, though, this blog is not a complaint. I might be alone but I am never lonely–due in part to my supportive nuclear family, my many friends and acquaintances, and my wonderful boyfriend. It has been far too long since brother unlucky has given me something to write about, mostly because it has been a while since I visited the land of alligators. I am wondering if that is actually a good thing, though, considering his nickname lends itself to describing the unfortunate events he encounters. Anyway, I have indeed had my own adventures.
Last Sunday there was a day party called Perfect X to which I had all intentions of attending–during the day. Due to unforeseen circumstances chiney tings and I arrived at 10 30 p.m., only about half an hour before the party was scheduled to end. (Oh, the things that ceases to be important when a party is free.) Nevertheless, the real adventure was the driving to and fro.
To begin, the party was on a ranch only about a few minutes away from where I live. I suppose if we had arrived there during the day as the party-keepers intended, the dark and lonely road would have been far less dark and not nearly as lonely. It is no secret that the home-owners in those areas are accustomed to and perhaps greatly enjoy the darkness that befalls when the sun goes down. Oftentimes I wonder to myself if I would enjoy living in a big house on plenty of land in the middle of nowhere with no street lights. Needless to say, I don’t think I would. (Not in the US anyway.) With all that money what does it take to invest in a street light or two. I’d much prefer that option as opposed to seeing cars drive by with their bright lights pointed right at my house.
It makes you wonder as you drive by if maybe there is someone inside one of the houses who is watching you as you pollute their area with your lights. After all, don’t we as humans always notice the unusual? They probably know how many cars, on average, venture into their neighbourhood and which cars belong to which house. Other than that, you’d be surprised to know that they are peeking at you through their extensive drapery as you try to figure out where you are going.
I know you might be thinking, my imagination is far too wild, but what would you say if I told you I am speaking from experience?
During my senior year, bonafide, trinidad, and I decided out of boredom that we would take an adventure over into the dark areas of Griffin Road and Southwest Ranches. My cousin who lives over there told me about a haunted house with a moat that he and his friends had visited before and that sounded perfect. Considering the fact that scary movies were amongst my favourites at that time in my life, a nice haunted house adventure sounded like something I would thoroughly enjoy. We got no directions, though, and spent the night driving around looking for something very hard to find. But don’t be discouraged; it was adventure we wanted and adventure we got.
Upon searching for somewhere dark and desolate to pull over and use the bathroom (I am Jamaican, don’t look so surprised) we encountered perhaps the most unexplained event of the night. After turning down an alley, trinidad and I hopped out towards the bushes. The first thing we saw when we walked up ahead was a huge brownish red stain in the road. Immediately we stopped and looked at each other as if to make sure both of us were seeing the same thing–dried up blood.
Since it was in the middle of the road, we figured it was a dead animal. We ran back to my car and turned on my lights and went back to look. No dead animal; but the stain was certainly blood. We looked at each other again and the next thing we knew we heard soft Carnival music in the distance. (For all my fellow Caribes, I don’t mean Soca music.) It was the kind of music you hear when you’re on a merry go-round, and coming from the middle of nowhere we could not believe it. We immediately went right back to the car, turned it around, and headed back to the main road. With my lights shining up ahead, bonafide pointed out a huge poster-sized portrait of a native american woman just ahead. The picture was surrounded by flowers and candles and none of us had noticed it before. To not get carried away, we ruled it out as one of those RIP things that the family of the deceased put up in memory of their loved one.
Like true scary movie participants, we decided to keep looking for trouble. On that search I sure did notice people peeking through curtains as we drove by. There was one person whose shadow was printed out in its entirety on the window pane. I stopped to intensify the mood until I saw the door open. This was no stranger than the car that appeared out of nowhere with the bright blue light that seemed to trail it. It was just as strange when that same car started to follow me.
Needless to say, we never found the house. Maybe one day I’ll go looking again. A good adventure with my friends is never anything short of entertaining.
Just like the unintentional wrong-side-of-the-road-driving that had me and chiney ting dying with laughter after the “day party” last Sunday.