“You okay? That was a huge blow!” He was laughing and smiling and completely astounded at the size of the line I had just blown. My name is Jane and I’m fourteen years old. I’m sitting on Alex’s bed with his iPad on my lap with two more lines waiting for me to bring the rolled up dollar bill to my nose. I briefly looked up at Alex and gave him a little smile to let him know that I was alright but when I did I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My eyes were glossy and the whites were a tint of red which made the blue in the irises stand out even more, my sun-kissed skin turned a ghostly white. Who the hell have I become?
I am no longer the girl that would sit on the swings and squeal with excitement as my dad would give me a hard push. I am no longer the girl who would walk into church on Sunday morning with my great grandfather, hand-in-hand. I am no longer the girl that hides in closet with her sister and pretends that the boxes are rocket ships. I am now the girl that can remember her dad pushing her once on the swings before getting high over at the tennis court. I am now the girl that knows what would happen after church when my great grandfather would help me undress. I am now the girl who knows that every time Ashley and I would pretend we’re space explorers on a different planet it was because she didn’t want me to hear my dad hitting my mom.
As I stared at myself in the mirror and these memories danced in my head and the images played back like some sort of home movie, I became disgusted and angry with who was looking back. I brought my nose to the rolled up dollar bill and I inhaled. Just like that, I felt as though nothing bad had ever touched my life. I am Jane Cowens, I am untouchable.”
When Barry threw the Philosopher’s Stone into the Speed Force, there was an explosion, and he was propelled to the future. What he saw was himself standing before Savitar and me. Right before Savitar killed me.
The Ramnamis are a small hindu sect from central India. As leather-workers they are on the lowest rung of the caste-system, because they process the skins of dead cows and are considered ‘untouchable’. Traditionally this status meant that they were prevented from entering Hindu temples along with the other castes. So, in an expression of their own proud religious convictions, the Ramnamis began the practice of tattooing the name of the god, (Ram) all over their faces and bodies. In this way they wished to show that everyone is equal in the eyes of God and that they have no need of temples to confess their faith. Today the Ramnami tradition continues with its own strand of Hindu belief and outdoor prayer areas, and its members hold their heads high in the knowledge of their devotion to their faith.
♥︎ that magical feeling when you look over at your man and know no matter what, he’s standing in your corner, silently supporting and encouraging you, not because he wants to take care of you, but because he knows you can take care of yourself.♥︎