Midnight Palace
Vendor
- Messages
- 640
- Location
- Hollywood, CA
Nia's Journey
Dawn cascaded over the neighborhood early on Tuesday morning. It had broken the darkness before, but this particular light show promised a new beginning for someone. In the distance, a faint orchestra of automobile engines serenaded the houses. Businesses let their display windows out of prison, unlocking the rusted metal blankets and rolling them out of view. The alarm clock set the previous evening did not abuse the trust of its dependant. 5:30am on the dot. Smooth Jazz. Nia opened her eyes and breathed. Nia Peromon.
She never cared much for her name. It felt like a stage name, a tag to smear Broadway with. Her Great-Great-Grandfather had come over from Spain as a poor teenager with hopes to find steady work. When his inability to speak English killed all possibilites, he was forced to live on fate's decision. Five cold weeks passed until a wealthy couple found him rummaging through trash and adopted him. Richard and Anna Peromon. He took their last name in place of his own, or so the family story went.
Nia began her morning stretches. Below her bed, assorted shoes stood in line. Her mother once commented that it looked like a display in Amsterdam's "Red Light District". Various colors and styles all stood straight, hoping to be chosen for their allure. The lucky pair would be privy to that day's excitement. In Nia's case, a lack thereof.
Placing her feet on the floor, she slowly brought herself to the edge of the bed. Her yawn was a unique one. She made a humorous face when her yawns hit their peak and then made their way back down. They were also noticeably loud, especially for her petite frame. There were better traits to be known for, a great sense of humor or a strong work ethic perhaps.
"Beautiful work Nia....you're the MGM lion. And why exactly are you single again?", she thought.
5:42am. Work began at 7am instead of the usual 9am. She would have just enough time to shower, get dressed and run out the door to catch the train. She didn't like to rush, it felt like an unnatural jolting of the body. It brought her anxities and stress to the surface and everyone knew it. She was terrible at hiding emotion...and emotion was often her siamese twin. In moments of emotional overload, sentiment had a way of forcing itself on her. The most familiar sentiments. If only her brother Michael were still alive.
The centerpiece of Nia's off and on depressions, her brother Michael, blind in both eyes, was hit and killed by a passing car. Nia was helping him cross the street when she became distracted by a friend. An earlier storm had coated the asphalt and prevented a driver from slowing down in time. The car smashed into Michael's right side. He was thrown 30 feet to a nearby patch of grass and died instantly. Nia had never forgiven herself.
Throwing on her dark blue blouse and dress slacks, Nia grabbed her keys, tucked her work ID in her pocket and hurried outside. The train station was a good six blocks away from her apartment. She'd gotten to know a lot of the neighbors along the way who occasionally sat on their steps with morning coffee. They would never say much to each other, just a quick hello and goodbye. It was the kind of relationship only suited for passing through. Nia sometimes compared it to ex-boyfriends. There were certainly enough of them to justify it.
6:27am. Three blocks away from the station and she began to walk faster. If she missed the first train, the second train wouldn't come for another 20 minutes and she would undoubtedly be late for work. The clouds above her began to move close to each other and a light drizzle fell. Rain. Michael.
Nia's chest tightened as she replayed the horrible afternoon in her mind. "He was only 17", she whimpered under her breath. Pushing her legs faster she broke into a light jog. Her work day was less than a half hour away and she was still two blocks from catching the train. The drizzle graduated to streams of water and her jog became a run. The tapping of her shoes hitting the cement sounded like morse code, an S.O.S for forgiveness. Tears poured from her eyes as the image of her brother's lifeless body flashed in her mind.
"God please forgive me! I loved my brother and its my fault he's gone!", she cried. Nia ran hard. Her crying now a hysterical ambience. Passersby turned and watched her helplessly as she screamed and pleaded. The rain pounded the earth. Umbrellas went up and windshield wipers activated. Nia's makeup slid down her face like tire marks. She continued proclaiming her guilt over her brother's death when suddenly a light appeared. Two lights. Headlights.
A 2001 Toyota screeched desperately, hydroplaning on water and throwing itself head on into Nia's drenched body. The impact shattered the windshield and sent broken glass flying in every direction. The driver was unconscious. People rushed to the street in horror. An eerie orange glow cast itself over the scene, a sign that read "Train Station". Minutes later a witness attempted CPR. When the ambulance arrived, she was declared dead on impact. Several belongings were scattered on the wet surface. Nia's work ID, now partially transparent from the water was recovered by a medical technician.
"Nia Peromon", it read.
Turning it over in search of more information, the tech studyed the opposite side of the ID. A blank expression decorated his face. Tracing the letters of Nia's name in reverse, a revelation presented itself.
"nomorep ain"
Dawn cascaded over the neighborhood early on Tuesday morning. It had broken the darkness before, but this particular light show promised a new beginning for someone. In the distance, a faint orchestra of automobile engines serenaded the houses. Businesses let their display windows out of prison, unlocking the rusted metal blankets and rolling them out of view. The alarm clock set the previous evening did not abuse the trust of its dependant. 5:30am on the dot. Smooth Jazz. Nia opened her eyes and breathed. Nia Peromon.
She never cared much for her name. It felt like a stage name, a tag to smear Broadway with. Her Great-Great-Grandfather had come over from Spain as a poor teenager with hopes to find steady work. When his inability to speak English killed all possibilites, he was forced to live on fate's decision. Five cold weeks passed until a wealthy couple found him rummaging through trash and adopted him. Richard and Anna Peromon. He took their last name in place of his own, or so the family story went.
Nia began her morning stretches. Below her bed, assorted shoes stood in line. Her mother once commented that it looked like a display in Amsterdam's "Red Light District". Various colors and styles all stood straight, hoping to be chosen for their allure. The lucky pair would be privy to that day's excitement. In Nia's case, a lack thereof.
Placing her feet on the floor, she slowly brought herself to the edge of the bed. Her yawn was a unique one. She made a humorous face when her yawns hit their peak and then made their way back down. They were also noticeably loud, especially for her petite frame. There were better traits to be known for, a great sense of humor or a strong work ethic perhaps.
"Beautiful work Nia....you're the MGM lion. And why exactly are you single again?", she thought.
5:42am. Work began at 7am instead of the usual 9am. She would have just enough time to shower, get dressed and run out the door to catch the train. She didn't like to rush, it felt like an unnatural jolting of the body. It brought her anxities and stress to the surface and everyone knew it. She was terrible at hiding emotion...and emotion was often her siamese twin. In moments of emotional overload, sentiment had a way of forcing itself on her. The most familiar sentiments. If only her brother Michael were still alive.
The centerpiece of Nia's off and on depressions, her brother Michael, blind in both eyes, was hit and killed by a passing car. Nia was helping him cross the street when she became distracted by a friend. An earlier storm had coated the asphalt and prevented a driver from slowing down in time. The car smashed into Michael's right side. He was thrown 30 feet to a nearby patch of grass and died instantly. Nia had never forgiven herself.
Throwing on her dark blue blouse and dress slacks, Nia grabbed her keys, tucked her work ID in her pocket and hurried outside. The train station was a good six blocks away from her apartment. She'd gotten to know a lot of the neighbors along the way who occasionally sat on their steps with morning coffee. They would never say much to each other, just a quick hello and goodbye. It was the kind of relationship only suited for passing through. Nia sometimes compared it to ex-boyfriends. There were certainly enough of them to justify it.
6:27am. Three blocks away from the station and she began to walk faster. If she missed the first train, the second train wouldn't come for another 20 minutes and she would undoubtedly be late for work. The clouds above her began to move close to each other and a light drizzle fell. Rain. Michael.
Nia's chest tightened as she replayed the horrible afternoon in her mind. "He was only 17", she whimpered under her breath. Pushing her legs faster she broke into a light jog. Her work day was less than a half hour away and she was still two blocks from catching the train. The drizzle graduated to streams of water and her jog became a run. The tapping of her shoes hitting the cement sounded like morse code, an S.O.S for forgiveness. Tears poured from her eyes as the image of her brother's lifeless body flashed in her mind.
"God please forgive me! I loved my brother and its my fault he's gone!", she cried. Nia ran hard. Her crying now a hysterical ambience. Passersby turned and watched her helplessly as she screamed and pleaded. The rain pounded the earth. Umbrellas went up and windshield wipers activated. Nia's makeup slid down her face like tire marks. She continued proclaiming her guilt over her brother's death when suddenly a light appeared. Two lights. Headlights.
A 2001 Toyota screeched desperately, hydroplaning on water and throwing itself head on into Nia's drenched body. The impact shattered the windshield and sent broken glass flying in every direction. The driver was unconscious. People rushed to the street in horror. An eerie orange glow cast itself over the scene, a sign that read "Train Station". Minutes later a witness attempted CPR. When the ambulance arrived, she was declared dead on impact. Several belongings were scattered on the wet surface. Nia's work ID, now partially transparent from the water was recovered by a medical technician.
"Nia Peromon", it read.
Turning it over in search of more information, the tech studyed the opposite side of the ID. A blank expression decorated his face. Tracing the letters of Nia's name in reverse, a revelation presented itself.
"nomorep ain"
for a moment there.
