You asked for more Gypsy tales of love and glory. Well I took some time this week to deliver for you. I bring you a brand, new Pias the Gypsy story. If you've been following this series (see the links below) then you know that Pias has been haunting fifteen-year-old Melanie in her dreams. He wants to make her his Gypsy bride, and won't give up.
OTHER STORIES IN THIS SERIES:
Today we are invited into Melanie's home where she lives under the cruel reign of her rotten-bitch mother. Melanie hates her mother and for good reason. She just might want to run off with a Gypsy and become his Gypsy bride.
Have a great weekend. The first day of autumn is just around the corner. Be sure to enjoy the weather.
Fifteen-year-old Melanie lives in a giant secluded castle in the middle of a dense forest of gnarly trees that are interwoven by thicket and thorn. Her home is more of a prison. Confined mostly to her third floor bedroom; it doesn't even offer a turret balcony that she can look out of. The only way out of this giant castle is through the front door, and down a long driveway which only leads to a major highway. There are no sidewalks to take to a nearby friend's house and certainly no public park to play at.
Monday through Friday mornings, Melanie can walk to the edge of the driveway where a school bus picks her up and takes her to high school. There she can experience a taste of life outside the prison-like castle where there is only the reign of Mother and Father—especially Mother who is more of an evil overlordess.
In the afternoon, the school bus brings Melanie home where she walks back up the driveway and into the castle-like prison. She opens the heavy door and enters the foyer where she is most often greeted by Mother.
Often is the case when Melanie is interrogated of her day. "How was school?" Mother asks.
"Just fine? Did anything happen?"
"Do you have homework?"
"Say yes!" orders Mother.
"Can I see your school bag?"
Without saying a word and nearly rolling her eyes, Melanie hands the bag over to Mother who quickly opens it on the foyer table. Poor Melanie can't even remove her shoes and jacket while Mother sorts through all the books, papers and schoolwork. She can only stand there and wait for more interrogating while answering as to why she didn't receive a perfect score on some quiz or test.
"Melanie, how did you miss that?"
"I don't know..."
"Well, weren't you paying attention?"
"I just missed it, I guess."
"Well you just can't miss things, Melanie!"
Poor Melanie is hungry and wishes she could simply go into the kitchen and make a snack, maybe listen to music or relax in front of the computer after a long day at school like the other kids. Instead, she lives under the rule of an evil overlordess of a mother who interrogates and badgers her to no end.
"Are you going to be ready for your history test?" asks Mother.
"Do you have any other homework?"
"I have some geometry problems to do, and I have to start on a research paper."
"Well, then you better get upstairs and start your homework."
But Melanie has just come home from school. She's tired and hungry; wishes for a small snack as an afternoon pick-me-up. "Can't I go into the kitchen and make a quick snack?" she asks Mother.
"No! Dinner will be in about an hour and half when your father gets home. You can eat, then. In the meantime you need to get upstairs and do your schoolwork. You're a young woman, now, and can certainly exhibit self control."
It was afternoons like this that Melanie hated her mother. Home was definitely a prison and a place where Melanie could not relax and unwind. She stamps her way up the stairs with book bag in hand.
"Lose the attitude!" a warning is shouted from behind.
"Yes Mother!" Melanie slams her bedroom door and drops the book bag on the floor.
Unlike most kids in America, Melanie does not have a normal notebook computer with access to the internet. Oh, she has one that links up to the wireless router in the house. But with the exception of the school's resource website, some educational sites and Wikipedia; she can access nothing entertaining. Poor Melanie doesn't have a Facebook account, Instagram or Twitter. She can't browse the latest videos on You Tube. She can't purchase and download music on ITunes. As for a cell phone; she has only a basic model that allows her to make and receive calls.—no texting! The only connection Melanie has to the outside world is a bedside clock radio in which she can listen to top 40. But really, Mother would prefer that Melanie doesn't do this. Melanie should be studying and doing schoolwork. And when there is free time, Melanie should be practicing her cello.
Perhaps this prison-like world where Melanie lives is the reason why she has been having strange dreams about an older Gypsy man, named Pias, who wishes to make her his young bride. In the last dream, Pias told Melanie a story of a young girl about her age who he abducted and turned into a Gypsy bride. But the marriage went sour which left Pias divorced and lonely.
It was an unhappy Wednesday morning as Melanie was preparing to leave for school. Just then, Mother entered her bedroom.
"I don't think so!" exclaimed Mother. "Change it!"
"What?" asked Melanie with a note of annoyance.
"Your blouse!" clarified Mother. "It reveals your cleavage, and no one wants to see that! That's disgusting!"
"Mother!" Melanie shouted while stamping her foot.
"Change it, now!"
Poor Melanie just wanted to look nice for school. She has a nice pair of breasts and wished for the simple right to have pride in them. But Mother insisted that breasts were to be hidden because they were disgusting. Left with no choice, Melanie changed into a turtle neck shirt and left the house.
She stood at the edge of the driveway, facing the highway, and waited for the school bus. After about five minutes, the familiar yellow bus could be seen rolling in from a distance and up to Melanie's house. When near it flashed the warning lights and opened the stop sign so that motorists would wait until Melanie had loaded and took her seat.
Much to Melanie's surprise, she had a new bus driver who stared and smiled at her as the side door opened. He was an older man with salt and pepper hair, and a matching mustache. His skin was dark Roma olive-color that was beginning to leather and age a bit. And then there were those deeply set eyes that seem to long and hunger for something. He wore loose and baggy clothes that were an odd choice of color with designs that reminded Melanie of something that an Egyptian would wear. The new bus driver was no other than the man who haunted her in her dreams, Pias the Gypsy! At least it looked like him.
"Good morning!" he warmly greeted with a peculiar accent.
Melanie did not answer while passing. She only sat in her usual seat and looked out the window until the bus started to move forward.
Was it really him? Did the creepy Gypsy step out of Melanie's dreams and become her new bus driver? She cautiously looked up towards him just to confirm if this man truly resembled Pias the Gypsy.
The bus driver must have sensed Melanie doing this; for he immediately glanced up in the mirror back at her and smiled. Of course he couldn't maintain eye contact for too long. He was driving a bus, and had to pay attention to the road. But it was no bother for him. With eyes fixed back on the road, he began to sing a peculiar song that was seemingly directed at Melanie. The words were unrecognizable—perhaps they were chanted in some archaic language—but completely understandable by Melanie. It was an old Gypsy song that men of antiquity casually sang when in the presence of a young woman who was being courted. It called to mind that these were the sweet moments; the threshold of a new romance that would grow deep and true.
"This new bus driver is weird." whispered a nearby girl to another.
"I know... he's creepy..."
The new bus driver, who Melanie assumed to be Pias the Gypsy out of her dreams, drove the kids home from school that afternoon. And when he reached Melanie's driveway, he spoke to her before she exited. "So this is your house, huh? You have a beautiful home."
Melanie did not answer. She couldn't get off the bus fast enough. Now Pias the Gypsy knew where she lived. And he was relentless with his chase. He might even trespass on the property and try to appear out of nowhere like he did in Melanie's dreams.
It was another typical afternoon home from school.
"How was school?" Mother asked.
"Just fine? Did anything happen?"
"Do you have homework?"
"Say yes!" ordered Mother.
"Can I see your school bag?"
Twenty minutes later after being interrogated, badgered and scolded by Mother; Melanie was ordered upstairs into her bedroom where she would do her schoolwork and practice her cello. Father wasn't to come home until later that evening around 7:30pm. Dinner would be late. And even though poor Melanie begged for a quick snack from the kitchen, that evil overlordess of a mother denied her the simple right of satisfying hunger.
Today, Melanie was exhausted. She sat down at the bedroom desk, and put her head down for what was supposed to be only for a moment. But she quickly fell into a deep sleep and received another visit from Pias the Gypsy in her dream.
It was as-if he stepped out of the shadow and approached Melanie. "Don't be frightened." reassured Pias. "You know I would never do anything to hurt you. Is that what you are? Are you a frightened, little girl?"
Melanie answered nothing in return.
Pias reached into his back pocket. "I want to show you something—something that you should have and learn how to use." He pulled out a folded knife with thin handle and a blade approximately six inches in length when opened. "It's called a navaja." said Pias. "Some people might call this a Gypsy knife, and for good reason. Every Gypsy is sure to have one of these and learns how to use it. You see; in the Gypsy culture it's necessary to learn how to fight, use force and steal. Stealing and fighting is the way of the Gypsy. We have no real home or real possessions. Our culture goes against what many people deem to be moral and good. So when I was a boy, my father gave me this navaja and taught me how to use it. For many generations, the father passes down the skill of Gypsy knife fighting. It can be considered a rite of passage into manhood. And sometimes even young women learn Gypsy knife fighting. I think you should learn how use this knife so that you feel stronger and more confident."
Suddenly, Melanie felt a strong shake to her body.
"Melanie, wake up!"
It was Mother who was outraged that her daughter had fallen asleep at the desk.
"Oh, I'm sorry." apologized Melanie. "I must have been tired and fell asleep."
Melanie's apology was not accepted. "Did you get any of your homework done?"
"No, I just put my head down for only a moment and fell asleep."
"Well it's 6:30 in the evening." informed Mother. "You were sleeping for a quite a while. Is this what you do when you come home from school? And you didn't get any of your schoolwork done or practice your cello?"
"Mother I was tired. It was an accident. And this is the first time it ever happened."
"Well you can forget about joining us for dinner, tonight. You have a lot of catching up to do. Later I'll bring a cold sandwich up to you and check on where you are at."
Melanie hated her mother, terribly. What she was doing had to be illegal—overworking and starving a child. The words just rolled out of her mouth as-if possessed by pure hatred. "Damn you, Mother! I hate you!"
Mother hauled off and smacked her disrespectful daughter across the face. "How dare you?"
The smack hurt and caused a nasty sting to Melanie's cheek. She put her hand to her cheek and cried.
"How dare you say something like that to me?—you disrespectful child! After all that I do for you..."
Driven by pure rage and hatred, Melanie began to shout. "Mother, I can't take it anymore! You push me too, damned hard. I'm tired and I'm hungry, and you won't let me eat dinner. I hate you! I've always hated you!"
It only resulted in another smack to the face.
Melanie screamed, loud enough for Pias the Gypsy to hear her. Surely he was outside and saw everything. He probably climbed up the tree near her window and was watching, waiting for the moment to dive through the window and rescue her. Pias used to work in the circus and was surely acrobatic. He could dive through the glass window and roll onto the floor where he would spring up in front of that bitch, Mother.
Mother would probably put her hands up in refusal with her usual look of disapproval.
But Pias would wield his Gypsy knife and threaten her with it to show that he meant business. Then Pias would pick up his lovely Melanie and climb out the window, down the tree and escape.
They would run away, together. Melanie would become Pias' gypsy wife, and they would live happily, ever after.
Interesting thing: Melanie was maybe a little nicer to the bus driver the following morning when being picked up for school.