Abrupt affection

PROLOGUE
Reports have been going on, about a lady in a red dress on a killing spree. Leaving a trail of male bodies around the boroughs of New York. A late night curfew has been put in place. Be advised to stay indoors at late hours.
………………………………………………..
Like flipping a page, my day goes on to the next, then onto another. My 24 hours are so brief, not much to put even in a summary. Not a person of interest or anything mutual, but the Friday nights at the bar I cling on to. I need something or someone to blow me a way. My big bang, the lady in the crimson dress.
One Friday night when I was leaving the bar, just to take a smoke or two in the alley. I stumbled upon something unusual, but all the more amusing to me. Yes, the dead body with the knife stuck in its head did startle me, but didn’t get my attention. Only she did.
That was the first time I saw her. It was obvious she made this scene. About to make her way into the streets, she walked so elegant. A lady in a red dress. Her hair dark as a raven, and the way she walked never to lose memory of. I only got a view of her posterior, but that alone made my heart throb.
She looked like something out of a playboy magazine. I had an instant affection for her. It grew by the second. As she made a look towards my direction, swiftly, I crept behind the dumpster. Who am I kidding? A little fear lit in me but desperately wanted to meet her up close. I would follow her to the ends of the earth if I had to.
A week had passed, but my daily routine never seemed any less bland. She still linger in my thoughts. Revering to that night, wish I had witnessed the murder first hand. See her in action. More love than lust, though the latter might outweigh the other when I profess my feelings. The lady in a red dress, I long await.
The guys at the bar hadn’t stop bickering about the dead body. I would have gotten rid of it myself, but I dared not disrupt her masterpiece. A great work of art. The knife went through the guy’s head, popping out at the other end. A long drenched blade. Boy wasn’t that dude lucky?
I would give anything for a chokehold from my lady in red. The life slowly leaving my body. My eyes reddened but staring deep into hers. A mystery of a face she must have. The mystery being the last thing I unveil before departing this life. Worthwhile.
I got off the bus one Friday night. Hoping to take the drinking up a notch. Drown my sorrows. Might be lucky to see my lady in red. Lo and behold, the devil herself. A pint of bourbon hadn’t touched my tongue. I rushed out the bar, sighting her from the frosty window.
My eyes won’t deceive me. I can spot that back view from a mile away. Nothing different from her last appearance. I stalked from one lamp post to another. We seemed to be alone on the street. The cold breeze howling. The light bulbs had started twitching.
Alas we reached the end of the block. I could no longer sight the signpost of the bar. From where I stood to where she was, just about six feet away, I could reach out to say hello. She hadn’t stopped, so I continued my trail from behind. She must have discovered me by now. But no reaction from my lady in red.
What story could I tell from her? As I watched her every step in front of me. Would be cliché if she wore a hat, matching the serial killer look and all. But her velvet scarf was telling something. She had now drifted into an ally. I followed suit.
The fog had now cleared. Her back facing me still. How happy I was there was no one around to disturb us. She hadn’t turned to look back at me. Heavily antisocial I see. All silent, not a word from my lady in red. I was tempted to make a move on her, but I stood my ground.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, thereafter to make my approach. In a splits second, like a freaking superhuman, she lifted herself to great heights. So high, she was overshadowing me like a hawk I was in such awe, I could fall to my knees. Behold.
A loud thud as she descended to the ground in front of me. I hadn’t stretched out a smile so wide as I did now in ages. I could have given out a loud laugh, but I wanted to maintain a solid first impression. I was filled with so much bliss, I could grab her in my arms, regardless of the whole femme fatale..
I did actually. She round-housed me. I felt light in the air and made a huge dent on the side of the dumpster. Quickly, I tried to get back on my feet. Can’t be looking weak around this goddess. Ignoring the damage. Probably broke a rib or two, and I’m pretty sure the kick partially deformed my face.
She made slow and steady steps approaching me. The scarf, still firm around the lower half of her face. I hadn’t got a better look yet. But I guess she is doing the honors. I hope she had backed down from the hostility. But I guessed wrong.
A tight grip to my neck. She swatted me to the other side of the wall. I could swear I broke a brick with the back of my head. The grip grew stronger and tighter. The worst of it, I hadn’t let out a single word amidst all this. No introduction to my lady in red.
This was worth the wait of the introduction. I’d be another one of her works. I was running out of breath. Alas the blur was no more. I could see her eyes, clear as ice. The scarf had now fallen off from her face, as she reached towards something strapped to her back.
The mystery had been unveiled. I caught sight of a rare beauty. I admired her emotionless face till she raised her hand up high. In her hand something shiny. I could not quite get it right as I ran out of air to breathe.
Bet it was one of her collections. Had she given me the chance, we’d live together forever. I wouldn’t mind if she was mute our entire lifetime. But just have something, with someone like her. Just her, her alone. Reality came back as something drove through my chest.
A kitchen knife I suppose. Nothing longer. The cold metal stuck right underneath my heart. She still had that straight face on. A tear rolled down my eye, falling onto her wrist still holding the blade. Releasing the other grip from my neck, her work was done.
I will live at her will. Obey her every command. A nod or a shake of head, message will be clearly received. I will give or take my life for her and only her. My lady in a red dress. If she had let me.
She took few steps back, leaving the blade in me still. Observing her work of art from a distance. Best viewed. The fog had set in again. She walked away, with the elegant steps I am familiar with from that night. The predator had done its deed to the prey.
I am overjoyed. Slowly slipping to the ground, death was a breath away. One last glance at the raven haired lady in a crimson dress. I laud our last moments together. Well spent. As I would like to remember myself as a damoiseau in distress. I fawn for your abrupt affection.

No Caller ID

She would want to hear voices in her head. Watching and stepping back from the telephone buzzing on the table till it stopped. The third in a week.urdA week it had been since she had been discharged from the hospital. A fatal accident on a cruiser, where the rest of her companions died leaving her as the sole survivor. They crashed into a boulder. She was lucky to be at the lower deck at the time. Though unscathed, calls from an unknown contact had been a distress to Marybeth since her arrival home.
She’d often pick up the phone, and who it was. Only to hear the heavy breathing of a mysterious person. The Police hadn’t been to trace the caller whenever she reported to the station. Going back would make her look delirious. She just ignored the calls ever since.
The only officer who took her a little bit serious, was Officer Barnes. The younger sister to her ex-boyfriend, Mark – who tragically died in the accident. She would check on Marybeth from time to time.
No matter the empathy, it was still hard to believe Marybeth’s story. The phone calls had now stopped. She began to get letters from someone anonymous. This was her proof. She confided in Officer Barnes. The night she got her second letter, she phoned Barnes to come over.
She wandered about her house, till she heard the doorbell ring. The phone rang concurrently. It was the strange number. She had her doubts on going for the door lock. She waited and picked the phone.
The usual aberrant behavior from the mysterious caller.
“Who is this?” she whispered into the phone.
The doorbell rang again. This time seconds faster in between each ringing.
The heavy and slow breathing ticked her off. She threw her phone to the wall. It shattered pieces of the screen on the ground. The doorbell stopped ringing. She wouldn’t even check the door-hole to see who rang. She just stood there staring at the door.
Her land line rang, the doorbell followed suite. The ringing were in sync. She was going mad. She ran up the stairs. Rummaging through her drawers in search of something.
She brought out a shiny little pistol and held it tight. She walked slowly to the door. The gun in hand, pointed straight to shoot at first sight. She left the land line to continue ringing.
She unlocked the door and kicked it open. Outside was Barnes, shivering from the cold outside. She didn’t bring her cop car neither was she in uniform.
“Jeez! I’ve been ringing for a while now”, Barnes said with her voice still held by the cold.
Marybeth let her in, and treated her to some hot cocoa. They sat for several minutes in silence. Marybeth was eager to tell her about the caller, but it seems Barnes was a step ahead.
“I traced the number again. It was… Mark’s old contact”. She said letting out a sob.
“No-no that’s impossible”, Marybeth said with a grim on her face.
She recalled the sight of Mark’s head bashed against the boulder. Pieces of him were gathered as his remains. A scene she hadn’t ridden her mind of so easily. Mark was dead, so are the others. Who would want to torment her?
“I haven’t been completely honest with you Betty”, Barnes said getting off the couch.
“What do you mean? You’re scaring me Lisa”, Marybeth said, her skin turning pale.
“Mark told me”, Lisa said. She walked round Marybeth looking at the door and then her face, back and forth.
“Told you what? Mark is dead Lisa. What are you saying?” Marybeth said. An easy feeling started to stir up inside her. Enveloped by a series of guilt she had longed buried.
“Mark come in please”, Lisa said looking at the door.
His hair dark as the night. The green eyes Marybeth knew too well. He walked in pulling off his jacket on the couch Lisa stood from.
The tension had reached its pinnacle. She knew she drove the cruiser straight for the boulder, just because Mark had called it quits with her. She fell through the open hatch that lead to the lower deck. She stuck with that alibi and nothing else.
“Hello Marybeth,” the words he spoke that made her eyes roll up to the ceiling. The last view she had before the back of her head hit the ground.
She opened her eyes to the four walls of a hospital ward. She awakened by the beeping monitor that went along with inaudible chatter of mark and an officer at the entrance.
She tried to move off the bed, the cuffs on her right leg changed to the railing deemed that impossible. The cards were against her. The dead was not dead. She feared the ugly truth was out. She would face a trial for voluntary manslaughter.
She wished she had crashed into the boulder with the rest. Although she had her intentions then. What she did out of spite would haunt her and be her plight.
The sound of a nurse gently rolling a stretcher into her ward. It had straps dangling by the sides. Other than that the hospital was too quiet. Marybeth was hopeless. She feared she might be in an Asylum.
The doctor told her she had a concussion. Her eyes searched the ward for Mark. She met no face of familiarity till Lisa showed up at the door.
She was in her uniform. She discussed with the doctor whose facial expression changed when she pointed to the woman on the bed.
“What’s going on?” Marybeth whimpered.
Officer Barnes cuffed Marybeth’s leg to the reins of the bed like she was a criminal. She ignored the words of her friend pleading to hear her out.
“Calm down Marybeth,” he said.
A man had been sitting right next to her this whole time. She wondered how her eyes missed him.
“Mark,” her eyes lit up. Shook by his presence.
Notwithstanding she still had a lot of explaining to do. The doctor excused them. It was just the two of them now. She stared into his eyes, it was real. She wasn’t going to wake up and it’s just a bad dream. She had to face her demons head on.
“You died Mark. I saw your body.” She said
“You thought you did. The thing is, I should be where you are right now. Your state of mind I mean. The lifeguard on our boat never left Marybeth.” He said
“What are you getting at?’ she asked
His voice sounded distorted. Her point of view was the hospital ward melting, as did she. Like a heated all around. She was held at both hands. She opened her eyes and there her friends who had previously met their ends. They were real. Alive and well.
They looked older than an average adult. Their middle-aged faces scared her.
“Marybeth. You just woke up from a coma.” A man showed his face, smiling on a bed next to hers. He was in a patients clothing. He had gotten skinny and pale. Barely had any hair left on his head.
“Mark?” She asked.
The others cleared the room to give the two a private time. She couldn’t look at his face for long. She closed her eyes and wondered if the whole boat accident was all in her head.
Her lower body was extremely light. She felt her torso very heavy. She did not know how to react to this awakening.
“I am so happy to see you. I had them bring me in here to see you one last time.” The way he spoke was like he was going to lose his breath. The obvious was that he had met his fate with cancer.
She saw how bright and sunny outside the window was. The sunshine on her face was felt. In no way was she fantasizing or worse having a mental breakdown.
She looked back at him with intent. “Just tell me one thing. What happened?”
“Well can had me…” He tried to smile and saw she was no less implicit with her question.
“You tried to kill yourself ten years ago Marybeth.”
“What led me to it?”
“You claimed to be receiving mysterious phone calls after our boat cruise.”
“You all died. I know you did.” She agitated.
“You said that too. You never left the house since you tried…”
“Tried what Mark?” She begged for an answer.
Little did she know from her suicide attempt Mark told her happened a decade ago; she had lost all motor functions from her waist to her toes.
She pressed her hands on her thigh to sit up. It felt like the body of someone else. She hit her fist multiple times to get a feeling but nothing was regained. She was more concerned about what led to her predicament.
She held back her tears She had shed enough already in this reality and the one that took place in her mind.
“Just tell me.” She ordered.
“I can’t—you just woke up.” He coughed under his wheezing breath.
“Tell me now!” she yelled throwing her head cushion at him. She missed. Her voice alerted the people outside and they came rushing in. The doctor came to her while two other nurses rolled Mark’s bed out of the ward.
“Tell me Mark! Tell me! Please!” She cried.
After a while in her ward with the doctor she was still and silent. A nurse came him. In her hand was a brown file and boldly written was- “Death Records.” She whispered into the doctor’s ear, handed him a small note and left.
“I will come back in a few hours to check in on you again.” The doctor said leaving a note on her bed side.
She did not reach for it or even take a look at it. Mark’s death was recorded. The expression on the nurse’s face earlier could tell. She would pick the life of terrors from the mysterious caller over this.
Back in mind she wanted to tear the notes to shreds. About time she reached for it. It fell off the bed and she was force to leave her vegetable state and fall to the ground. Her arms hurt and were bruised from the short fall.
She opened the note; “Do not pick the phone.” There was no phone around. Whether or not Mark wrote this she regretted not saying her goodbyes. She crawled her way to the door. Few steps from reaching to the door a phone rang.
It came from her bed side. She had not seen a cellular device in her ward since her wake from the coma. She crawled back to her bed. The floors were warm and barely gave her discomfort. Having to drag her legs was the absolute discomfort.
She was unable to get up to her bed. The hospital beds are quite high above the ground. She tried to pull her herself up but to futility she dragged the sheets down on her. She did not lose hope here.
The phone stopped ringing. For a moment she thought to herself. This could be the time she never left. The coma story was all a lie and the doctor was in on it. The people she saw were real but no medication could bring such vividness.
The phone rang for the second time. The vibrations came from the ground behind the bed. She must have managed to knock it over from pulling the shifts. Odd enough she did not see the phone up until now. The recent event was a tragedy yet to come.
She stretched her hand and searched around under the bed. She answered it right before the last ring. The expected unknown caller. The too familiar loud breaths made on the other end of the phone.
“Show your face you coward.” She said hesitantly.
The door creaked open slowly. Revealing a fraction of light from the hallway.
“I am at the door.”
A shadow figure stood there when she faced the door. She dropped the phone and was shook with fear. The figure stepped in with a stethoscope hanging down his shoulders with a file in his hands.
“I see you tried moving around Ms. Harp?”
“Doctor…”
“Alright let’s get you back on your bed.”
She screamed. Not because he offered to take her hand. Another larger figure came up from behind him. The doctor was caught off guard. The man put a sack above his hand. His file dropped from his hand, the pen rolled over to Marybeth.
Marybeth could only watch. The doctor struggled for his life but the man overpowered him. She snapped out of whatever trance befell her. She took to pen and crawled to the boots of the large man. The doctor’s hands had dropped.
The man let go of the sack when Marybeth punctured his boots with a surprisingly sharp doctor’s pen. The doctor was on the ground dead or unconscious. Marybeth tried to make her way for the door but was pulled from her hair backwards.
The man tossed her body on the doctor’s. She couldn’t feel the heartbeat of the latter beneath her. He was gone. To be precise her ear was right on his chest.
The man closed the door gently. Outside the ward had grown awfully quiet. No stretchers were rolled and nurses were not walking around anymore. A left foot shoe of one of the nurses was the last sight before he completely closed the door.
She had not looked at the man’s face once. If she had her legs perhaps her point of view will be upright. He turned to the door and sat across the room from her. The phone rang again. The caller wanted to have a conversation in the same room.
He grunted at her to answer. She went over the doctor’s body to take the phone on the ground. She answered the large man. This was no “Mark her ex-lover”. Mark was not a hunk and it were to be him, what says the death records?
A cancer patient on his death bed. She had no one else to think of doing something like this. The only suspect was Officer Barnes. Officer Barnes was a young gorgeous woman not a large disgruntled middle-aged man with hairs that covered his whole face.
“Hello.” She said with her voice high pitched. The fright had consumed her.
“Hi.” The deep voice across the room said through the phone.
“Who is this?” She asked.
“Barnes.” The man answered.
“Who is this please?’ She asked again.
“Barnes. Lisa Barnes!” He answered aggressively.
She didn’t want to look up to whoever claimed to be Lisa. The hazy view of the man standing up from the chair and thumping towards her. Before the large hand came in contact with her skin, her mind had left her body. She was now a complete vegetable.
She could not feel the touch. She was lifted to his shoulders or maybe Lisa’s shoulders which she dared not to believe. A decade had passed, she was told. If it really did and time had went on. She wanted to elude herself by deterring her thinking.

the telephone buzzing on the table till it stopped. A week it had been since she had been discharged from the hospital. A fatal accident on a cruiser, where the rest of her companions died leaving her as the sole survivor. They crashed into a boulder. She was lucky to be at the lower deck at the time. Though unscathed, calls from an unknown contact had been a distress to Marybeth since her arrival home.
She’d often pick up the phone, and who it was. Only to hear the heavy breathing of a mysterious person. The Police hadn’t been to trace the caller whenever she reported to the station. Going back would make her look delirious. She just ignored the calls ever since.
The only officer who took her a little bit serious, was Officer Barnes. The younger sister to her ex-boyfriend, Mark – who tragically died in the accident. She would check on Marybeth from time to time.
No matter the empathy, it was still hard to believe Marybeth’s story. The phone calls had now stopped. She began to get letters from someone anonymous. This was her proof. She confided in Officer Barnes. The night she got her second letter, she phoned Barnes to come over.
She wandered about her house, till she heard the doorbell ring. The phone rang concurrently. It was the strange number. She had her doubts on going for the door lock. She waited and picked the phone.
The usual aberrant behavior from the mysterious caller.
“Who is this?” she whispered into the phone.
The doorbell rang again. This time seconds faster in between each ringing.
The heavy and slow breathing ticked her off. She threw her phone to the wall. It shattered pieces of the screen on the ground. The doorbell stopped ringing. She wouldn’t even check the door-hole to see who rang. She just stood there staring at the door.
Her land line rang, the doorbell followed suite. The ringing were in sync. She was going mad. She ran up the stairs. Rummaging through her drawers in search of something.
She brought out a shiny little pistol and held it tight. She walked slowly to the door. The gun in hand, pointed straight to shoot at first sight. She left the land line to continue ringing.
She unlocked the door and kicked it open. Outside was Barnes, shivering from the cold outside. She didn’t bring her cop car neither was she in uniform.
“Jeez! I’ve been ringing for a while now”, Barnes said with her voice still held by the cold.
Marybeth let her in, and treated her to some hot cocoa. They sat for several minutes in silence. Marybeth was eager to tell her about the caller, but it seems Barnes was a step ahead.
“I traced the number again. It was… Mark’s old contact”. She said letting out a sob.
“No-no that’s impossible”, Marybeth said with a grim on her face.
She recalled the sight of Mark’s head bashed against the boulder. Pieces of him were gathered as his remains. A scene she hadn’t ridden her mind of so easily. Mark was dead, so are the others. Who would want to torment her?
“I haven’t been completely honest with you Betty”, Barnes said getting off the couch.
“What do you mean? You’re scaring me Lisa”, Marybeth said, her skin turning pale.
“Mark told me”, Lisa said. She walked round Marybeth looking at the door and then her face, back and forth.
“Told you what? Mark is dead Lisa. What are you saying?” Marybeth said. An easy feeling started to stir up inside her. Enveloped by a series of guilt she had longed buried.
“Mark come in please”, Lisa said looking at the door.
His hair dark as the night. The green eyes Marybeth knew too well. He walked in pulling off his jacket on the couch Lisa stood from.
The tension had reached its pinnacle. She knew she drove the cruiser straight for the boulder, just because Mark had called it quits with her. She fell through the open hatch that lead to the lower deck. She stuck with that alibi and nothing else.
“Hello Marybeth,” the words he spoke that made her eyes roll up to the ceiling. The last view she had before the back of her head hit the ground.
She opened her eyes to the four walls of a hospital ward. She awakened by the beeping monitor that went along with inaudible chatter of mark and an officer at the entrance.
She tried to move off the bed, the cuffs on her right leg changed to the railing deemed that impossible. The cards were against her. The dead was not dead. She feared the ugly truth was out. She would face a trial for voluntary manslaughter.
She wished she had crashed into the boulder with the rest. Although she had her intentions then. What she did out of spite would haunt her and be her plight.
The sound of a nurse gently rolling a stretcher into her ward. It had straps dangling by the sides. Other than that the hospital was too quiet. Marybeth was hopeless. She feared she might be in an Asylum.
The doctor told her she had a concussion. Her eyes searched the ward for Mark. She met no face of familiarity till Lisa showed up at the door.
She was in her uniform. She discussed with the doctor whose facial expression changed when she pointed to the woman on the bed.
“What’s going on?” Marybeth whimpered.
Officer Barnes cuffed Marybeth’s leg to the reins of the bed like she was a criminal. She ignored the words of her friend pleading to hear her out.
“Calm down Marybeth,” he said.
A man had been sitting right next to her this whole time. She wondered how her eyes missed him.
“Mark,” her eyes lit up. Shook by his presence.
Notwithstanding she still had a lot of explaining to do. The doctor excused them. It was just the two of them now. She stared into his eyes, it was real. She wasn’t going to wake up and it’s just a bad dream. She had to face her demons head on.
“You died Mark. I saw your body.” She said
“You thought you did. The thing is, I should be where you are right now. Your state of mind I mean. The lifeguard on our boat never left Marybeth.” He said
“What are you getting at?’ she asked
His voice sounded distorted. Her point of view was the hospital ward melting, as did she. Like a heated all around. She was held at both hands. She opened her eyes and there her friends who had previously met their ends. They were real. Alive and well.
They looked older than an average adult. Their middle-aged faces scared her.
“Marybeth. You just woke up from a coma.” A man showed his face, smiling on a bed next to hers. He was in a patients clothing. He had gotten skinny and pale. Barely had any hair left on his head.
“Mark?” She asked.
The others cleared the room to give the two a private time. She couldn’t look at his face for long. She closed her eyes and wondered if the whole boat accident was all in her head.
Her lower body was extremely light. She felt her torso very heavy. She did not know how to react to this awakening.
“I am so happy to see you. I had them bring me in here to see you one last time.” The way he spoke was like he was going to lose his breath. The obvious was that he had met his fate with cancer.
She saw how bright and sunny outside the window was. The sunshine on her face was felt. In no way was she fantasizing or worse having a mental breakdown.
She looked back at him with intent. “Just tell me one thing. What happened?”
“Well can had me…” He tried to smile and saw she was no less implicit with her question.
“You tried to kill yourself ten years ago Marybeth.”
“What led me to it?”
“You claimed to be receiving mysterious phone calls after our boat cruise.”
“You all died. I know you did.” She agitated.
“You said that too. You never left the house since you tried…”
“Tried what Mark?” She begged for an answer.
Little did she know from her suicide attempt Mark told her happened a decade ago; she had lost all motor functions from her waist to her toes.
She pressed her hands on her thigh to sit up. It felt like the body of someone else. She hit her fist multiple times to get a feeling but nothing was regained. She was more concerned about what led to her predicament.
She held back her tears She had shed enough already in this reality and the one that took place in her mind.
“Just tell me.” She ordered.
“I can’t—you just woke up.” He coughed under his wheezing breath.
“Tell me now!” she yelled throwing her head cushion at him. She missed. Her voice alerted the people outside and they came rushing in. The doctor came to her while two other nurses rolled Mark’s bed out of the ward.
“Tell me Mark! Tell me! Please!” She cried.
After a while in her ward with the doctor she was still and silent. A nurse came him. In her hand was a brown file and boldly written was- “Death Records.” She whispered into the doctor’s ear, handed him a small note and left.
“I will come back in a few hours to check in on you again.” The doctor said leaving a note on her bed side.
She did not reach for it or even take a look at it. Mark’s death was recorded. The expression on the nurse’s face earlier could tell. She would pick the life of terrors from the mysterious caller over this.
Back in mind she wanted to tear the notes to shreds. About time she reached for it. It fell off the bed and she was force to leave her vegetable state and fall to the ground. Her arms hurt and were bruised from the short fall.
She opened the note; “Do not pick the phone.” There was no phone around. Whether or not Mark wrote this she regretted not saying her goodbyes. She crawled her way to the door. Few steps from reaching to the door a phone rang.
It came from her bed side. She had not seen a cellular device in her ward since her wake from the coma. She crawled back to her bed. The floors were warm and barely gave her discomfort. Having to drag her legs was the absolute discomfort.
She was unable to get up to her bed. The hospital beds are quite high above the ground. She tried to pull her herself up but to futility she dragged the sheets down on her. She did not lose hope here.
The phone stopped ringing. For a moment she thought to herself. This could be the time she never left. The coma story was all a lie and the doctor was in on it. The people she saw were real but no medication could bring such vividness.
The phone rang for the second time. The vibrations came from the ground behind the bed. She must have managed to knock it over from pulling the shifts. Odd enough she did not see the phone up until now. The recent event was a tragedy yet to come.
She stretched her hand and searched around under the bed. She answered it right before the last ring. The expected unknown caller. The too familiar loud breaths made on the other end of the phone.
“Show your face you coward.” She said hesitantly.
The door creaked open slowly. Revealing a fraction of light from the hallway.
“I am at the door.”
A shadow figure stood there when she faced the door. She dropped the phone and was shook with fear. The figure stepped in with a stethoscope hanging down his shoulders with a file in his hands.
“I see you tried moving around Ms. Harp?”
“Doctor…”
“Alright let’s get you back on your bed.”
She screamed. Not because he offered to take her hand. Another larger figure came up from behind him. The doctor was caught off guard. The man put a sack above his hand. His file dropped from his hand, the pen rolled over to Marybeth.
Marybeth could only watch. The doctor struggled for his life but the man overpowered him. She snapped out of whatever trance befell her. She took to pen and crawled to the boots of the large man. The doctor’s hands had dropped.
The man let go of the sack when Marybeth punctured his boots with a surprisingly sharp doctor’s pen. The doctor was on the ground dead or unconscious. Marybeth tried to make her way for the door but was pulled from her hair backwards.
The man tossed her body on the doctor’s. She couldn’t feel the heartbeat of the latter beneath her. He was gone. To be precise her ear was right on his chest.
The man closed the door gently. Outside the ward had grown awfully quiet. No stretchers were rolled and nurses were not walking around anymore. A left foot shoe of one of the nurses was the last sight before he completely closed the door.
She had not looked at the man’s face once. If she had her legs perhaps her point of view will be upright. He turned to the door and sat across the room from her. The phone rang again. The caller wanted to have a conversation in the same room.
He grunted at her to answer. She went over the doctor’s body to take the phone on the ground. She answered the large man. This was no “Mark her ex-lover”. Mark was not a hunk and it were to be him, what says the death records?
A cancer patient on his death bed. She had no one else to think of doing something like this. The only suspect was Officer Barnes. Officer Barnes was a young gorgeous woman not a large disgruntled middle-aged man with hairs that covered his whole face.
“Hello.” She said with her voice high pitched. The fright had consumed her.
“Hi.” The deep voice across the room said through the phone.
“Who is this?” She asked.
“Barnes.” The man answered.
“Who is this please?’ She asked again.
“Barnes. Lisa Barnes!” He answered aggressively.
She didn’t want to look up to whoever claimed to be Lisa. The hazy view of the man standing up from the chair and thumping towards her. Before the large hand came in contact with her skin, her mind had left her body. She was now a complete vegetable.
She could not feel the touch. She was lifted to his shoulders or maybe Lisa’s shoulders which she dared not to believe. A decade had passed, she was told. If it really did and time had went on. She wanted to elude herself by deterring her thinking.

Wreathe In Red

To experience the freedom in the wild, you must let go a part of yourself. In the deep forests of Scandinavia we made our survey. The locals rumored organ harvesters once trailed these paths. It was years ago, two hitchhikers were found dead with their entrails out on display. That didn’t stop us. The area was clear and safe, confirmed by our guide – Hugo. He parted ways with us when he handed the map over to Ethan.
We had been filled in with the basics of surviving in the wild. Watching Bears Grills had its help too, just that nothing we did was caught on camera. Ethan, Julie, Amber, Jade and I started off with fruits before we turned to hunting critters. Food poisoning had its way with Amber severally. She ate anything on sight. Ethan and Julie were always at each-others necks. They both wanted to be the leader so bad.
Eventually their hate brewed into late night hookups. We all had what we were good at. Jade was good with building shelter, Ethan and Julie set traps for food, Amber was just Amber, and I was just the dude who agreed with all opinions.
I forgot to put out the fire one night, it nearly burnt down the whole camp. I had to share a tent with Amber afterwards. It wasn’t all that nice, Amber talked in her sleep, a lot. I would have asked to share a tent with Jade but we weren’t on speaking terms. Breakup stuff.
It was too quiet one night. Amber hadn’t said a word in her sleep. I turned to the side to check her, she wasn’t there. I didn’t know when she left the tent. I got up and went to look for her. The camp was awfully quiet too. Ethan and Julie weren’t at it this night. That’s a first.
Only Jade was in her tent. I tried to wake her up, which was really awkward. She’d want to punch me so hard in the face right now. She wasn’t sleeping, just into void. “Jade… hey Jade”, I whispered. Trying my best no to make physical contact, moving closer to her side. She kicked me in the groin. “Pervert!” she said, now laughing when she realized I was in pain.
We got out in search of the others. “So you weren’t asleep I see”, I said. Bringing up a conversation to lighten the mood. She remained silent for a minute. “I’ve been thinking… did you ever thought of how I felt?” she said, her eyes darkened. It was night but I could still see the expression on her face.
“Yeah I did”, I replied.
“shush, do you hear that’, she grew cautious.
“Hear what?” I asked
The sound of screams crescendos. The leaves rustled around our feet. “Amber!” we both yelled. We ran to her voice. My steps were heavy, I felt like I couldn’t keep up with Jade. She had every reason to be fast, her sister might be in danger. She ran farther and farther away from me. I was never one to be rated high in gym class. I stopped, watching her steady movements ahead.
She had disappeared into the dark. I called out the names of the others. I heard nothing in return. Only animal noises from a great distance and owls hooting. It got creepier by the second. I talked myself through the walk. I saw a camp fire. There was no one around, I moved around to find any belongings.
I heard a branch stretch and looked behind. I was met with a heavy hit to the head. I woke to my hands and legs tied. The same camp fire. People were around it now. My sight became clear and could hear the dialogue going on.
“He’s awake”, a guy said.
“Hit him in the head again”, a female voice said.
This was Hugo and Jade were talking, while Amber grabbed a log and walked up to me. I was helpless. The cooler in Hugo’s hand caught my attention, I overheard them talking about how much and how many. I was confused till Amber made a statement.
“We should take a kidney or liver from this one”, she said banging the log gently on my head. They ignored her, and this ticked her off a bit. She got reckless with me. From where I was and where Amber stood, she was really close to the camp fire. A little push from me and should be dancing in flames.
Hugo was about leaving. He kissed Jade on the cheek, then handing her a gun. It was obvious it was meant to get rid of me. “Not today”, I said to myself. I threw myself at Amber. She danced in flames just like I predicted. “Amber!” Jade screamed.
I could see the hurt in her eyes. She pointed the gun at me. Lucky for me, I risked being burnt a little to set myself loose. The bullet went to my left thigh. I plunged at Hugo, tilting over the cooler. The cold air came out, alongside human organs I was certain – iced in a container.
Jade shot again, this time missed. She shot many times in anger. It all went straight into the bushes behind me when I fled. Leaping on one foot, dragging the other agony. I could see a car in plain sight. It must be Hugo’s.
Jade must have misfired and shot Hugo, because the blood on my face wasn’t mine. He didn’t get up after I hit him. He was dead for sure. I could hear the fast steps of Jade behind me.
The impact from behind me. I clashed by the side of the Rover. The blood that rushed out of my back, the survivalist spirit was still in me. I had the strength to open the Rover and start it. A miracle the keys were still in.
I was losing myself. I drove like a maniac. If I didn’t die from the gunshot wound, I’ll drive straight into a tree. I hit the brakes moments away from the not so preferred death.
I was regretting this wild life experience. Those organs could be Ethan’s and Julie’s. I know human hearts when I see them. There was enough gas to take me for a mile and more. I was weak.
A bullet shot at the side mirror. Jade was close, really close. She came up front, pointing the gun at the windscreen. It shattered the glass, she missed again. I hoped that was the last bullet. The gun cocked and nothing shot.
She approached me, climbing the rover. I saw a knife in the safe. She held the gun up high, ready to bash my head in. I drew the knife out and plunged it into her throat. Her blood gushed all over me. She fell off the Rover. I managed to make a tourniquet from my shirt, covering the wound on my back. Tying the cloth round my torso.
It was really hard to stretch my arms around. I started the car and drove into the sunset. A wad of cash was also stashed in the safe. A lot was going through my mind right now. On the road wreathe in red, a story awaits my journey’s end.
I stopped on the road when a cop car pulled me over. A closer look I it wasn’t a cop uniform. Those high fashioned boots with a turtleneck and breeches. Ethan with Someone at the passenger’s seat. The person at the front seat had their head way out of the window.
I started the engine when I saw Julie’s tilted head dripping blood from the window ahead. I must have run out of gas. But these two weren’t dead. At least one of them was now. Ethan had fear in his eyes. He showed he wasn’t a threat.
“I told her n-not to pull the trigger… I swear it wasn’t loaded when I checked.” He trembled with every word he spoke. They must have been planning their getaway seeing the clothes they had on. The cop car was the obvious ambiguity.
“Stay there man I got a gun and I am not afraid to use it.” I lied. I didn’t want anything to do with this. There was enough deaths for today. He may be scared but who knows what he pull if we drove off together. I was in position to debate. I had to ride with him.
“Come on man. Please help me… help us.” He sounded like I had no choice. I could barely move myself out of the car seat. I felt the tourniquet loose. He claimed the cop car was a fake. The plates looked silly now that I notice.
Sirens blared from down the road. The red and blue lights glowing up in the woods. Ethan got me out of the seat. “Careful man I’m bleeding badly.” I held him close, I felt my legs slipping on the ground. He was not to be trusted but he had to be my all at that very moment.
“Unlock the doors and drag her body out fast!”
“What about the gun?”
“They are gaining on us drop it and get in. You are the only who can drive right now.”
I was useless. He got rid of her body by dragging her into a ditch. The road was bumpy, it spared us a few seconds to drive into the bushes. The charges would be biased – Americans with multiply homicides in a foreign country.
Ethan drove so fast I hope we crashed into a tree. That would be better than getting caught and facing illegitimate counts of madness in the woods. He turned to look at me a lot. I could not tell if it was to know I was still alive or plotting to shoot him because I had the gun locked in my grip.
We reached a lake where we heard nothing. A little settlement was less than a mile away. Ethan had his head on the steering wheel with bits of his brains scattered on the dashboard. I used every bullet on him. I got the door open. I felt to the ground and crawled my way to the lake. Leaving the stones stained with blood that leaked from my torso.
My hands scaled the rough ground and I was a foot length to get into the lake. My dead body afloat will alert the village folks the next morning. My plan failed as a lamp was held above my head. These guys were Amish and too my surprise, they took me in.
They cleaned my wounds and got me clothed in a robe. I was tucked in on a bed with a lantern at the doorstep. I could just stare into blue eyes that peeped from the window. Little kids who were still up at night. They should know their parents were very kind.
This is the life I could be living. Subjected to no violence or harm. I will have no worries just the regular life in this regular place away from the cold world. The plan starts the next morning but I guess my demons existed even in the most serene places.
A fire started where I was catered for. I got up and felt really weak on my feet. I lost a lot of blood from before. The windows were locked but not on the inside. It was no use going through the door. The fire had gotten the better of it.
I yelled for help. There was literally nothing to smash through the glass window. I the kids gathering outside with their parents. They just stood there watching like this was a circus. The saw me calling to be saved but I guess I was some sort of sacrilege to whatever was going on.
The room smelt like sage before the fire. The white robe must mean I was cleaned and dressed to be sacrificed. Maybe this was my end and help could never be gotten from anywhere. The glass was too hard to be broken down with fists alone.
Screw it. I threw myself out the window with the all the strength I had left. Pieces of glass were stuck in all parts of me. On the surface and some a little deep. The scattered around and ran away. This was a long night.
To move was fatal. I could push a shard farther in me. The family were nowhere to be seen In times like this I wanted to just die on the spot. Struck by lightning would be a good start.
The rain started heavy and went on in great magnitude. The fire was put out. The sound of the thunder set flashes of Amber before me. She was covered in blood and pointed right at me. I saw Jade with her hands and legs facing the wrong way. She ran at me then disappeared.
The police sirens blared and I knew Ethan was next. He had the siren of a cop car on his head. He was missing an eye. All these illusions were the last thing I would see before I die. Death was getting to me. The dude who was our guide just laid dead on the floor. Julie was the one whose appearance called me close to her.
A deep hole under her chin from the gun mishap with Ethan. We were never really close but I had a thing for her before she met Ethan. I could have been her ‘Ethan.’ She called me by my middle name. Fred.
I rose up like zombie and dragged my feet to her. I felt the glasses falling off my body. From my jaws to my ankles. The vigor was unexplainable. I was about running to her when a wave of electricity ran through my body.
I woke to the sound of thunder. I was too scared to open my eyes but I was awake. I felt fingers coursing through my body; from my neck to my wrist.
“There’s a pulse.” A voice that came too close to my ear.
I was in motion. The ambulance must have got to me. I was brought back to life with defibrillators. For a second there I thought Lightning struck me down. I was patched up and wasn’t for a sacrifice this time.
They were an ambulance squad heading back to the embassy. The memory of all that happened never left. I could go with the Amish story, the organ trafficking or just say nothing at all and be returned back to the states. It was not so easy.
The only thing I thought would be best was an escape from civilization and back to the wild. The life with rules was boring and mind draining. Out here you are not casted for your flaws. It barely escaped with my life but I felt more than alive.
I wasn’t strapped too tight to the stretcher. I slowly loosened the straps. A personnel say me losing the last strap. They were just two. She grabbed a needle I am sure was a tranquilizer. I grabbed her hand and stuck the needle in her partner.
He went out fast. My God. I am glad I wasn’t hit by that. She did not resist. She came at me again with another. I got out of the stretcher and went for the door. I unlocked it before she got to me. My escape was assured but I couldn’t escape the syringe in my arm.
This dose was not strong enough. I could still stand and was well aware. I jump off the moving ambulance van. My landing wasn’t so great. The van stopped. She must have alerted the driver.
I made it for the bushes. It was easy to get off their trail. The dizziness overwhelmed me. I felt in a ditch and passed out. I crawled out of the ditch, lightened up by the Scandinavian sun. I stripped my clothes and smeared myself in mud.
This was my identity now. I was defined by the wilderness and what holds in. This was that liberation I was destined for. If I die by an infection afterwards then so be it. Life experiences will falter us and we grow out of it to boom into the wonders of the earth. I am wreathe in red. Not blood, not dread just red. The feeling I will take on and wear as a clothing forever.

Euthanasia

On this night, another lady was in distress. The darkness had clouded the streets. Her screams were as loud the rumbling thunder. No one walked the roads this night. She ran till her heels were weak. She couldn’t cope with the blights on her feet. Blood drops tainted the ponds. She tripped on a wine bottle. All the bars and diners were shut.

The man in the black coat had her where he wanted. She had been stabbed in the arm when she escaped from his lair. He wouldn’t normally hurt his victims but he had to leave a trail for her scent.

She crawled to a corner and cried for help. He picked the bottle from the ground and tossed it in the trash can. He knew no one was coming for her. He took his time staring at her vulnerability. The whistling of the wind made a more gory presence.

“Please John,” She cried. The favor he would be doing her was a merciful killing. Like many others before. He brought a syringe of anesthesia. It was larger than the regular syringe. She kicked at him as she was laden. “No no no!”

He injected it into her right arm. She laid her arms to rest. The rest of her body couldn’t fight it. Her left arm still bled out. He knelt to her side and gently tied her hair in a ribbon. Rubbing his palms on her forehead. Shushing the little gasps of breath she made. He brought out his knife and made a line across her neck. A warm gush of blood flowing and spreading down her white dress.

He cleaned the knife with her dress. A dress she wore weeks ago on her birthday before she was abducted. No wardrobe change could be made in captivity. “Mary Andrews,” another lady in the magazines and posters. She was dead now and would not be declared missing when her body is to be found in a nook of the City.

He had ended one of his conquests. A beautiful soul had been taken yet again. Now to set off into the bustling streets and onto a new prey. A young woman soon to be another victim. He held a picture capturing the head and bust of a woman. A fellow model from the agency. Signed on the picture, “Margo.”

***
Young and beautiful. A bouquet all lined out her window. Not from her husband she thought. A name tagged “,John Hughes.” All her male clients from the studio admired her but who could it be? Her husband would not take it lightly. Every week right out the front door or stuck in the mail, gifts from an unknown mailer. It was spontaneous and nice at first. The days had grown grim for her husband.

About time he got to the end of this. She was clueless as well. No effort came from the help of the police. Times without number her husband would ask if he hadn’t been faithful enough. His patient could not last any longer, he filed for a divorce. They split custody for their two kids. She had them on weekends after the long week at the studio. She wasn’t getting offers any more. And the news about a dead girl was starting to make a bad name for the agency. Almost all the models were dropped. Her contract was terminated and she had her kids to focus on.

She savored the time she spent with the kids. Only the ill moments she felt she was being watched. The last time at the supermarket when shopping for groceries, a strange person in a black coat would often observe her from a distance in every aisle she shopped. Whenever she dropped he kids off at Mark’s, someone was always there, keeping a sinuous and inconspicuous presence in her life.
Yet again, another weekend with her kids. Her ex-husband had dropped them off. Mark was in a hurry to leave but she wanted to a conversation. “I need to talk you. Please.” She looked at him with the fear in her eyes. “If it doesn’t involve Finn and Jill, I want no part in it.” He said putting the keys in to start the engine. “Wait Mark, please I know you don’t want to believe e before. But I am telling you now. Please listen.” She held his arm and wished for him to stay.

“Don’t you dare ask to be listened to. I stood by you Margo, and then you treat me like a fool!” He yelled in frustration. He always had a short temper when it came to things he knew nothing of. Claiming to be left in the dark. “I am being watched okay! I don’t know why but I think it has to do with the agency. And that girl… That girl that died Marcus, Please think of the kids.” The look in his eyes would show a gleam of sympathy and thoughtfulness. He loved his kids so much and was at a better chance of gaining full custody. He could say she made this all up. His anger clouded his judgement. “Just tell me who he is Margo?” He asked. She was annoyed and by what he just asked and wondered if Marcus was truly the man she fell in love with and adopted kids to start a family. “I will not lie to you if you would still be so naive and blinded. There’s is no one. No one Marcus. Forget it. You filed for a divorce you got it and now I just turn to you for help you–just go okay.” She walked back to the house and shut the door. Marcus got out of the car. “Margo don’t you dare walk away from me! You might as die from the hands of a killer.” He got back in his car and drove off in annoyance.

A man came by knocking that very Friday night. She wasn’t expecting anyone. She took her time before opening the door.
“Can I help you?” she said to young man outside.
“You dropped them at the supermarket.” he said. Keys dangling from his grip.
It had been a few hours since she left the supermarket. She was surprised to see she had her keys. She thought not only had he helped her but why he took so long to return it was a bother. Random strangers don’t just show up at your door one night. She didn’t ask any questions.
“Oh my God… thank you”, longer out on the doorstep, talking with a stranger.
“Yeah you are welcome”, he said waiting on her to let him in for his kind gesture.
“Have a goodnight”, she said closing the door behind her
She sighed in relief, leaning on the door to hear his footsteps going further away from her house.

Her kids had fallen asleep on the living room couch. She took the two toddlers to their room. She had cleaned the candy from their cheeks and got them in their pajamas, tucked them in and kissing them on the head goodnight.
She sat on the kitchen counter having a bottle of red wine in her hand. Fours glasses and going on to the fifth, she thought about the stranger from earlier. She cleaned the glass and placed it back on the shelf, and went outside just to be assured he left. The garbage can was laying on the ground. She wondered if a stray might have tumbled it. She went forth to lift it up.
She felt she wasn’t alone on the front porch. A hand stretched from behind her, forcefully covering her mouth and nose with a moist grey cloth. The stench was so strong she fell unconscious that instant.

She woke on the floor in a small apartment. She heard a familiar male voice pleading for his life. A loud smack followed by a thud of a body falling to the ground silenced the noise.
She couldn’t see in front her, while her body laid on the counter. Immotile. Her arms and legs were weak. Her fingers had a little movement. Her throat was so sore, it hurt every time when she tried to scream. Her voice had failed her.
The stranger meandered around the room. He dragged a body into a room. She got a sliver of sight of two faces. First, the lifeless body of the stranger from before. Second, Jacob- her ex-husband. He had a look she had never seen ever knowing him.
It appeared the stranger was smacked really hard with a baseball bat. He locked the door after wrapping the dead body in sheets of bed clothing. She could sense Jacob now moving towards her body. He lifted her from the kitchen counter.
He dropped her on the rug in the living that was just four steps from the kitchen. Her head should be aching from the heavy drop, but she felt nothing. She knew too well this wasn’t his apartment. He brought out a pocket knife and traced it over her chest.
“Why are you doing this?”she managed to let out.
He ignored her and stuck the knife into her chest. She braced herself for the pain. She didn’t feel a thing. He brought out another knife. Bigger this time. He ran his fingers on the surface of the blade, taking his time. He had a mild expression on his face.

His intentions were vague to her. He already had high chances of full custody. Killing the mother of his children was not necessary. They both wanted each other dead, but wouldn’t actually do it. She was wrong to think Jacob was harmless. She had never thought of him to go to these lengths. He was a psychopathic underneath the responsible single father façade.
She could feel her wrist and the movements her hand could make. He dropped the knife, few inches away from her. He got up to take a look outside the window. She could reach for the knife, but she had other plans in mind.
He closed the shutters. He still saw the knife where he left it. He was convinced she couldn’t move a limb. He knelt beside her, closer this time. Quickly, she grabbed the knife few inches from her grasp and slit his throat.
His death was slow and painful. His blood spilled on her lying body. She was unable to get up and move about. His body fell on her, pushing the pocket knife deeper into her chest. The pain she could feel would hurt like hell. She was intoxicated with some sort of anesthesia.
Her wine from earlier nulled a little amount from her body, which could make her swivel one hand. Jacob was dead. She would die any moment even if she couldn’t still feel it. Her blood and his painted the floor red.
She could hear rustling from outside. She hoped someone had come to save her. The windows and door were shut. She wondered if it was still night or day. She was worried about her kids a lot.
The door came crashing down. Outside was still dark, that answered her question. A man came in. He didn’t look that much different from Jacob. Only the smile on his face could set them apart. She was happy.
The man rushed to her side. He grabbed the knife from her hand. Her expectations were getting quite slim. He pulled the dead body away from her. He was a stranger too. She hoped he wasn’t hostile or murderous like the latter.
He placed his hand on her chest, Slowing pulling out the pocket knife. She gasped in relief. Her pain had not returned, but was relieved in seeing her aider.
“Please help me”, were the words she squeezed out.
She wanted to get back to her kids at all cost. She thought, was he willing to help?
His shirt had a name tag, “John Hughes”.
She closed her eyes, with the expectations of him lifting her. She felt warm moisture pouring down her neck. She opened her eyes to see his eerie smile hovering her. There was nothing close to grab, to defend herself with.
Her arms had grown weak like before. The lighting in the room got dull and gloomy. Perhaps it was the light in her eyes going away. He stared into her eyes. He grabbed the knife again. This time, he slit his own throat. John Hughes had made his stop on his last prey, where he victimized himself.
His body laid next to hers. He was dead and gone. She was left to mourn her own death. The tears from eyes mixed with pints of blood on her face. She hopes her kids were okay. She shut her eyes. No pain, no suffering. Her death was bleak. A mere Euthanasia.

Lights out

I am abound the incandescence of the room. The underlying heat from the thick shirt and breeches. I can perceive the luxury I live in, imagining the greatness of all that surrounds me. I have been willed to the entirety of the Villa. My loyal minder.
They are just a snap of a finger away. To withhold their presence, I once asked to touch their face. I feel the fabric of their veil, which I believe is of no need, for I am sentient of all but sight.
On a night that felt foreboding and unusual. Struck by the absence of my minder. I snapped my fingers severally till it went numb. I just hope they had cleared the shards from the glass I broke in my quarters -shortly before coming down for dinner, to treat myself to venison and wine. I was familiar with every crevice of my abode, but something was amiss.
The windows burst open. The loud howling of the wind that slammed the doors. The breeze from the cold and apparent wet night. The darkness, such bleakness I was born into. I trailed everything that I felt heat and burns that led me to my dorm.
The wind had made the warmth evanescent. I stubbed my feet and staggered along the steps. The bruises I had to bear. Alas, I reached the scent of my dorm.
I quivered by feeling someone’s breath on my face. Right in front of me. Up close and personal. The air I breathe was theirs. “Who are you who rid me of my minder?” I asked.
The latter’s breath ceased on my face. I stretched my arms forth to find the face of the other in the room. My palms met the skin as smooth as my silk breeches.
The other was bothered about me touching their face. No wrinkles or roughages on this face. I behold the transient youth of this individual. The face was nimble just like mine.
I would run my hands through my face to behold my endearing masculinity. This face in my hands was like the sublime beauty of the night, worthy of reverence.
I imagined what colors and the other visible features I could witness graced with sight. This was clearly a young woman. She placed her palms on mine and unhanded my hold on her face, taking it now to my face. Her nose met my nose. She withdrew her touch and left me to my ambiguity.
My minder always gave me adept description of people on the outside. “Hazel-brown eyes”. The color they often said. I knew not of it, only to imagine the color of wood they said. I wished she has those eyes. Was this young woman my captor?
She had barely spoke a word. I hear her footsteps receding. She may have felt sorry for her blind captive and was going away. I crawled to where her steps had made a stop. Walking towards her would mean bumping into things, this was less hurtful.
My hands at her feet. They were bare. I felt moist from beneath it, sticky and with the scent of when I got pricked by the thorns in the garden- my minder aided my after. She met with the shards I suppose. A wrong step and blood all over.
Next to her feet, where I stretched my hands around was a delicate apparel. It was just there laying on the floor, could be an attire which matched that of my minder. I touched her legs and up to her thighs till she pulled me up by the hair.
I would have guessed she was naked. She blew air into my dim eyes. I held onto her waist tightly. The breeze from outside the windows was just by behind.
With the windows open, I pushed so far back I threw us out. The fright of the height. We landed in the garden. Her back to the ground, buried deep in the thorns. I lie safely on her bosom. She had not hollered or squalled.
A woman in so much pain. I thought, a commoner who got lost and took shelter in our dome. Uninvited, lurked around the passages, till she invaded my private quarters.
I had no choice but to act drastic. A decision out of mindless fear. She was someone I wished to know. It was hard to tell if we had once cross paths during my annual public speaking.
We had no words shared till we came crashing down the window. “My lord,” she breathed her last. I felt her transient youth wasting away.
I brought her hair over her face. The ephemeral smells of lavender. I faced the detriment of an open pipe to my side. One of us is dead; not me nor a stranger. My unveiled minder.
I was taken by a slumber. The pain had subsided the next morning. I felt the sun on my face outside on the ground of the garden. Her body had left my side. If she survived mysteriously, she wouldn’t get far untreated.
I followed the open path till I reached the façade of my dome. The smell of the rosebush guided me. The halls were as I left it. I could still move around like a sighted person. I lived here all my life.
My pain wasn’t much for a detriment after all. I swear I felt a puncture. The halls were silent, but not too silent. The passages that led to the store room gave an err noise.
I tripped on a lying body getting to push the door open. It was the young woman. My loyal minder. She was in pain. Her wounds needed to be tendered. I sought to it. I cared for her through the day.
Plucking every single thorn from her back till it was smooth like a saddleback. The bath was a stall away from where we were. The marbled floors made it easy to trace my steps.
I carried her in my arms. Carefully taking a step to another. I bathed her and covered her wounds. I took the chance to clean myself. She wasn’t a hard case to cater for. I was aware I was ill minded last night. Making a decision that would have ended our lives.
She clothed herself in my finest regalia. I sensed its embroidery while she laid next to me on my bed. An awkward space of silence between us. A meal would set the mood.
My minder always did prepare my breakfast before I woke. She had a mind of her own now and wasn’t subjected to me any longer. The near death experience is a new life experience. I thought of us as equals.
Only society would divide us. We were far away from all that. We were in our own world now. The minder before her cared for me since I was an infant. She was replaced due to old age. The ones who owned me or should I say my parents never came around.
The tenure of this new minder had only lasted a day. The second day and she’s all over the place. I can hear her feet dancing round my room. She was still limber. Her wounds couldn’t heal so quickly. She was impatient.
“Perhaps you could mind making breakfast?” I asked.
“No, You just sleep right there till we die of hunger” She replied.
“Oh my days… you are one to talk. A word you never said since you arrived last night. Hovering like a mad person. I thought you were an invader, and now you act impudent. Outrageous.”
She had left before I had said all on my mind. I had not realized sooner for the pain in my side had returned and hurt like the devil’s ass.
She came in moments later. She stuffed bread in mouth and poured syrup down my throat, raising my chin up. She later served me some sort of meat, which I was sure wasn’t bacon. I was too hungry to complain.
“Let’s leave today. Might I ask, who informed you I was your minder?” she said cleaning my mouth a napkin.
“Leave? Wait what?!” I yelled
This while I thought she was Magdalene’s replacement. My trivial thinking made me host a stranger. I had no choice but to kid with her words.
“Yes we’ll leave. Once you’re done eating there’s a carriage waiting downstairs. The coach said they were taking you to a new mansion. Could you believe, he thought I was your mistress?” she said.
I just stared into my void. My not so dark safe space. I was curious of who she was and why she had come to my dome in the first place. A common girl wouldn’t be able to wander off far into this parts. Magdalene did tell how far we were from society.
She got me into my breeches and vest. She escorted me into the carriage. She didn’t enter at first. I heard struggling outside the carriage. I heard her voice at the coach’s station.
“You have a new coach now, and a new destination.” She laughed.
I was scared. This young woman was more mysterious by the minute. Along the ride she halted. She got down and came to me. I drew back as she moved closer. I awaited a pointed thingy to stick at me, but it was just her finger.
She said she wasn’t going to lead the ride anymore. She insisted I took charge, knowing fully well of my predicament.
“How do you expect me to… you know what? Just take me back to the dome. You changed course for unknown reasons and you expect me to trust you.” I said.
“I never wanted your trust. You’re feeble and I can do with you as I please so spare me the lecture.” She said.
“What do you want from me?” I asked.
“Your parents sent me. Magdalene wasn’t writing letters to them anymore. They feared you might be dead or something bad had happened, so here I am. You tried to murder me last night. Your attempt was poor. Those thorns barely went through my skin. Your imagination must be really great for a blind man. I just sat back and watch a noble humour me for once.”
Her gesture was laid back. She was free and lighthearted. I envied the fact that she had met my actual parents. I hope she wasn’t a distant sibling, or worse my soon to be bride. The thoughts of her true identity was hectic for the mind.
We stopped by places, but she wouldn’t let me come out of the carriage. She brought me food and make me take a doodle or leak in a sack. How rude.
We reached our destination. It wasn’t so promising. It had a sad and gloomy aura. Worse than my dome. It was like the way Magdalene once described a graveyard.
In their walls, they didn’t burn candles. I wasn’t welcomed at the gates, so much for a grand homecoming. She walked me to my new dorm.
“Your family are waiting,” she said letting go of my hand.
I opened the doors and was held by many hands. This wasn’t beguiling one bit. A feast was made downstairs. A man who claimed to be my father walked me down the steps. He said my mother was bedridden for days before my arrival. “She had passed last night,” he said.
“I hoped it was peaceful. My condolences.” I said.
He didn’t say much after that. They cheered to me at during the feast. I heard the chalices clashing. I appreciated this. I wanted to be alone to mourn the mother I never met.
I knew not her name. The young woman from before.
“We mourned yesterday. We celebrate today. From our Queen we feast.” My father jeered raising my hand in the air. “From our Queen we feast,” those words didn’t settle well for me. I didn’t dine with them. I kept on gulping down the wine, praying it wasn’t mixed with someone’s blood.
I threw up and ordered to be taken to my dorm. These people were too strange. I couldn’t see it but I could sense it. It was vivid from the way they talked and the scent from their clothing. I locked myself in.
“Don’t fret my boy,” an old lady’s voice said behind me.
I ran around the room, stubbed my leg against a footstool. There was a presence in this room. I was not ready to cross paths with a ghost or whatever lies here. I felt the air coming out from an opening. I rushed to it.
Plummeting to my death would liberate me. My legs were already dangling out. My grip was firm on the on the edge of the window. I would let go by the sound of the old lady’s voice.
“You are not doing it right,” A female voice shouted from outside. My body was outside. I would drop soon.
“Grab my hand you,” she said. She had ran up here so fast. We could recreate the moment from my dome. This time we would get it right.
I felt her touch on my arm and pulled her to me. Her body knocked mine off my grip. Together we fell, we let out no yell. I was free from the cannibals or whoever the family was.
If what I saw was the sky, then I think I had sight. Like the fire blown off a candle, it was lights out.

Dark Insights

Death is inevitable. The least expected circumstance. I think upon death when we sail stormy seas or just the gentle tides. I expect death to escape death. Held captive by an enemy ship. It was time to walk the plank. Fearless. I thought of it. Death. It awaits me in the depths of the ocean. Hands and legs tied up, unable to swim to survive. If I could swim for it, I’d be shot by an arrow.
Now descending, swallowed up by the ocean. The water rushing into my nostrils. I could see a hand stretching forth to me, from a sliver of light above. I was hauled up. What awaits me up there didn’t bother me one bit. I had escaped death once again. Onboard with familiar faces. It was my crew. Here I thought they had abandoned me.
I had not rested much. I was briefed by the captain about our next destination. They were heading for Dead Man Cove. Anywhere where but there. They said great riches holds in its keep. The last crew to sail there took a fleet. Tons of ships sailing to their doom. Not only the cove, the whole island was cursed. They had just reached ashore before the dead came up from the ground, gauging their eyes out and peeling off their skin. The last crew suffered badly.
The man who laid the anchor of the last ship witnessed the horrors. He was the only to come back alive. We called him a mad man. Some called him a deserter and threw him in the gallows. The co-ordinates to the island was unknown until now. Mysteriously our captain knew his way about it.
The crew members were drawn to the odyssey when he uttered gold to them. The word alone made them in high spirits. We were received by a storm. Great waves splashing upon us. Heavy winds blowing men away from their posts. We lost a few men in the storm, it was all for the cause.
We had reached the island. The cove was half a mile from the shore. We settled and gained ground. The crew were overjoyed when the captain gave them a speech about them returning home with a fortune. They would get a boat of their own and live a life of the prestigious.
We made camp in front of the cove. We feasted and drank till we fell to the rocks on the ground. Laying our head to a deep slumber. I was not much of an early sleeper. The snores of the men would make one go mad. I just stared at the open blue to take my mind off. I spotted the captain sneaking off into the bushes. I wasn’t a minder for him, I slept to the sound of the waves.
I woke up to sword slashing and men screaming. I was lucky to be unscathed. Not murdered in my sleep. Our foe didn’t look anything like us. They didn’t have the fully clothed skin nor the eyes to see with. They were great in number. Their bodies would join up again once cut down. My crew stood their ground and fought. The captain was not among the already slain or to be slain. The few of the lot of us ran into the cove.
It was nothing but darkness. The concave walls were sleek and moist. We slipped a lot of times as we went further. This was a better choice than the horrid scene behind us. It was a matter of time before the dead came for us. With their looks, no doubt they were the men from the stories.
They growling behind us grew closer. We ran but the wet ground didn’t do us any favors. I could hear voice going deeper into the cave. The dead were fast, they had struck down more than half of us. Man by man, it was I next to be damned. I ran till my feet could move no more.
The voices had stopped. I couldn’t hear anything. The growls nor the screams. I could barely perceive my heavy breaths. I felt enclosed in an earthlike prison. The walls had grown close around me. My hand couldn’t move beyond my head without hitting spiky convex rocks. I felt it all caving in. No air to breath. It was clear death was near. In all this I wondered where the Captain was.
I feel myself falling in this enclosed earthlike prison. I had reached the ground. The walls cracked open, releasing me to breathe the air again. I wasn’t at the slaughter ground. Far from it. It could be the other side of the island. I could hear the waterfall from the distance.
I couldn’t move any longer. I could see the shiny fresh water. Moments away from gulping water down my throat. I fell to my face buried deep in the ground. Breathing the humid soil. I could feel my body lifted to a wooden stretcher. ‘No, no, no I want the water,’ I said with a groan.
I was dumped on the ground and turned over with a stick. Lo and behold. Two beautiful women with unique features. They splashed water to face a few times before they spoke in a tongue I didn’t understand. They looked like women from home, only more attractive and were clothed in animal skin.
I was staring at the thatched roof above me while they were having what seemed to be an argument. I wondered what their men looked like if their women were so astonishing. From the little view I could peep through outside, they were all women. Women with different shades of beauty. Skin tones of every fascinating kind. The two that stood before me had quite the heated conversation.
One brought out a knife and held it to my throat. The other tried to calm her, but she wasn’t resisting. The latter tied a rope around her neck. The knife dropping to my palms. She strangled her till the furious look on her face laid rest.
I got scared and pointed the knife at her. She laid the head of her friend gently to the ground. She reached for the knife and slapped me across the face. I was sure she said something demeaning of me. She took me to a shed, offering me food and water. She may have instructed me not come out, not to meet the fate of her friend but won’t becoming from her hands this time.
I hoped she hadn’t killed her friend for a mere stranger like me. Night had come. I was left to worry of what would happen next. I could hear the women talking. I could see the head of torches moving from tent to tent. The women who had helped me had her hands tied behind her. She was escorted by her friend from behind, who I was surprised to see was alive. A few others walked with them.
This was my cue. I made a run for it into the bushes. I wished my helper well as the thorns in the bushes had at me. I could hear silent chants in the bushes. It was a male voice. I halted and knelt to have a closer look. The heads of men I knew too well scattered around the chanter. This was a ritual of some sort.
The chanter’s hands were bloodied as he threw some things into the fire. ‘All your men aren’t dead, the ritual cannot take place completely. As we speak the last sacrifice observes in the bushes. The chanter faced the person he was talking to. The captain sighted me. I rose to my feet and a run for my life. It all explains his disappearance. I ran till I could hear the sounds of the waves.
I could hear the fast steps made behind me. I was fast, he was faster. Once I reached the shore I made my way into the water. Swept away by the ways to be taken far away into the open blue. Anywhere but here would suffice. I lay afloat on the water to have one last look at the island. Arrows dared at me. It appears the captain wouldn’t stop. He got into the water to. The wave took him along with me.

The waves had gotten more turbulent. The captain must have been taken down by the water. So much for an odyssey, I thought. He could have just left me to drown back them. I don’t know what deal he had made with the chanter or the devil himself, I would prefer a peaceful death by drowning. I was met with a similar fate. Death was not in my hopes. I wanted to live so badly. This wasn’t my time but death came anyway. There I was descending to the depths of the ocean yet again. Staring at the gloomy night sky, my death had now come.

Detached

If you had ever thought of running away, it sounds alright at first. Then you think of the good and the bad. Mostly bad. A runaway could get hit by a bus. That sucks. You can take off in broad daylight or sometimes it is best done at night.
A stray in the middle of the night. I’d take my chances. Just a step right out the door. Keep on walking, walking away from where I once belonged. Taken away by my wildest dreams.
Wild thoughts I’m driven by every second of the day. Mostly at night. Right now, just waiting and hoping to escape everything. I’m bored and really tired of this serene. The shout of “Alice” one I’d freak.
I would anything to live the life of another Alice Witherspoon in the world. Literally anyone, any day. If their lives suck, they should living mine. Guess I’m way pass the daily drama and seeing the same faces every day.
I want to secluded and replaced with a pet. A pet we never had, like a cat. A black creepy looking cat would suffice. It will just be coy all day. Take my spot and fit right into the family. Have a fun time with Mom, Dad and Jimmy.
Midnight awaits, just a goodbye to this day and a hello to another. I hope for a less boring day. Now awake in my room to face the light of a new day. My room is usually brighter when I pull the curtains. Perhaps I woke up early. I guess I’ll just creep on the mail guys till I smell breakfast.
No one had passed. Like I was staring at a picture. I tried not blinking for a minute, glaring at the house in front of ours. Now that I think of it, the house in front looks oddly familiar.
We’ve been residing here spanning a decade and a half, around the same age as Jimmy. I haven’t noticed. The house and ours have a real striking resemblance. Each house on the street all different from the other, but this begs to differ. The renovator just had to make a striking resemblance to ours. Well how nice.
One of the things that could be bothering me right now would be Jimmy. He should have come banging my door this morning to check up on me. He caught me last week writing a goodbye note. He had been bugging me ever since, in case I try running off one morning.
Any minute now. Just a little longer. I waited for a while, no footsteps, a loud thud or even a bang, I heard nothing. Not the hissing of dad’s coffee maker, because it was about time nor the faintest smell of breakfast I still looked forward to.
I crave the scent of bacon, omelets and burnt toast. I could a meal started off, but my past experience withholds me. The kitchen is not my scene. Last time making breakfast I almost burnt the whole kitchen down. This is taking so long.
It is really odd no one was up yet. I am always the last Witherspoon to get up from bed. They could be up but doing something else. But I didn’t hear a sound. No way they planned a weekend getaway and left me behind. I was beginning to think this was payback for storming off dinner last night.
I completely forgot about the scene I made. Things got pretty heated. I said stuff I didn’t mean. I was overwhelmed by anger and I wish I could take back some of the things I said. I tend to get fussy over the littlest things. I really hope I could get pass the incident last night with Mom and Dad. Jimmy remained silent all through night.
I got worried and made way out of my room. Something was off. I couldn’t perceive the usual household scent in the air anymore. I rushed into Mom and Dad’s room. Not only were they not in their rooms but it was completely empty.
It seemed as if everything was gone. Vanished. The same in Jimmy’s room. I couldn’t quite grasp the situation. All closets and drawers were empty. No pictures hanging on the wall. This was not only in the rooms, the whole house was empty. I could hear the creaking of every footstep I made as it echoed through the whole house.
I figured something wasn’t right. It takes me back. I was really young at the time, but if I could really think on it, it was like when we just moved in. The house was hollow. In the air was nothing but new house smell.
The biggest shock to me was my room. It remain untouched, unaltered. It was how I left it. The room the same way I woke up. Everything still in place. It smells the same. The hoodie I threw I threw to the corner last night still laid there.
This was all so random. I once wanted this, but now that it’s all happening it’s unbearable. I couldn’t make sense of it all. As confusing as it was, it was too soon.
Time had passed, in what could have been an hour. I could not bring myself to take a bath or brush my teeth. My bathroom was still the same. I just sat on the floor of my room, lightly banging the back of my head repeatedly on the door. Last night couldn’t stop running through my mind. I regretted it so bad.
I wanted one thing in the world so badly right now. I wanted to hear mom call out “Alice” one more time. The sound of a voice rose me to my feet. It was Mom, but she wasn’t calling my name. It was Jimmy’s. I missed the constant the constant nagging of my little brother. I could hear the sound of Jimmy laughing outside.
I was not out of the despair. I ran to my window to check them out. In the house out front they were. I didn’t understand what was going on, but to just hear them once again made me smile.
Jimmy was out on the lawn staring at my window. He appears to be looking right at me. I wondered what he was doing before I had shown up. I could hear Dad’s disgruntled voice coming out the door. He was always like that every morning when he hadn’t eaten breakfast. He made a step on the porch calling Jimmy inside.
Jimmy walked to the door slowly but couldn’t get his eyes off me, making a few glances as reached for the door. He still peeped through the curtains when he got inside.
It was so weird. I was here and they were over there. I looked awry but I rushed out with what I had on. I took my time before I walked over to their doorstep. ‘Deep breaths, nothing was wrong’, I told myself few moments before I knocked.
The door opened gently and I could hear the sizzling sound of mom frying bacon. I was wrong since I found her warm smile at the end of the door. Jimmy was probably the one in the kitchen. He had better luck in the kitchen than I did. The smell of coffee travelled far from the living room, Dad was obviously there with the News Channel loud as ever.
On the spot, I ached with hunger. I couldn’t barely hold my stance. Now I just had to wait for Mom to explain what the hell was going on. The words Mom uttered wasn’t much different from the time a strange old lady came by our doorstep. At the time, I just thought the old lady was lost and had nowhere to go. Right now I was that old lady.
“Hello Good Morning, How may I help you? The question couldn’t stop repeating itself in my head. I was lost and confused. I could not bring myself to answer. I just stood there wondering why she would ask me that.
I glance at the window to see my reflection. It was still me Alice, I only looked dreadful but it was still me. Although I never said a word, for I was now speechless. Now left to think of this was a prank, but I know Mr. and Mrs. Witherspoon all too well not to joke like this.
The look on my mother’s face, it was clear as day she didn’t know me. She remained polite expecting a response from me. I bet she thought I was one of those strays I imagined myself. My look alone could point that out. I was just fresh out of bed, having nothing but tears wash down my face today.
I longed to say I was sorry for what had happened, but what good will that do than to only imply I was at the wrong house. I would need to back off and walk away from their property.
The only thing I could say was “Mom”. She smiled, but I was pretty sure she was confused. I know, I could see it. Dad was walking out the living room asking her who was at the door. Jimmy was still in the kitchen, aware I was at the door but our weird encounter must have it complicated for him. He was never really a visible face with strangers. A stranger I had now become to my family.
I was still eager for what my Mom would say after the smile. I still had a great view of the house from where I stood, but mostly the kitchen. The pictures on the wall had Mom, Dad and Jimmy in them. I was nowhere to be found. It was like I didn’t exist in their lives. I took me a while to spot the black cat under the kitchen counter. It must have been watching me the whole time.
Dad’s footsteps steadily approaching, Mom gently took my hand in her palms about to say something. I couldn’t, I just couldn’t stand this any longer. It was a matter of time before I dropped to the ground.
I pulled her hands from mine and ran off. Running through the street, this was a really good time to get hit by a bus. I ran into our home, or what it used to be. Only to get into my room and find nothing but empty space. A while ago it was loaded with stuff. My stuff was all gone now.
The tears I held in back when I was with mom started rolling out uncontrollably. It was official, I was now detached from my family. It was obviously not a prank.
As real as it is, I got my runaway fantasy. Loneliness, pain and desperation wasn’t how I imagined my wish. I laid at the spot where bed used to be. The last tear rippled down the side of my face. It is a tragedy to be homeless not having where you belong. Away from family, friends and familiar faces.
The warm homely feeling was kicking in, or was it the bed that was mysteriously beneath me. The softness that cushioned. The feeling of never wanting to get up from that comfort.
I bit hard into my thumb, but not hard enough to bleed. I needed the pain to know how real this was. I was aware of where I was and I knew what I was meant to do next. A second had been given to be me. It was well assured seeing my hoodie still laying at corner of my room. I could hear their voices once again. This time it was from within.
With the absence of echoing sounds, the house was whole again. I walked down the steps from my room, with the faintest gleam of hope my apology would be well received. My sincerest apology was poured out with utmost regret. I was given a heartfelt reproach.
To have Mom, Dad and Jimmy, I was reminded how lucky I was .Sometimes you say hurtful things, they say hurtful thing. Learning from our mistakes, we resolve and move on as better people.
I was happy to see my family. I could not bear the sight of losing them again. Even for the slightest moment. The joy of having a place or people you belong with, to call home, to call family is indescribable. The worst pain is having to be ripped away from all that. Detached.

An invitation to a dark holding

Like a tree set on fire right before the rain. Chaos spreads fast and takes a lot down with it. The few saved right from the first droplet of hope are set to shine and bloom once again. We now gather the pieces of our remains, only to set off to new beginnings.
We cease to forget the calamity that struck our town back at River Creek. It took a toll on us. Having to dig graves more than we can count. Only the Winters Family chose to stay behind. Our words would not move their decision. The land was cursed we told them.
We built a safe haven up in Grey Valley. Each holding had a task. To forage, to shelter ourselves and everything we needed to survive. Rules were laid out as well. With the little of us around we were lucky to start a new generation. A generation in which I was born. Pa had filled me in with our history. I always knew there was more to our little utopia.
Grey Valley was home not just to us but many. Voyagers and people from other lands settled with us. Our state and mind was getting better as we grew in size. The ruling families were the Flints and the Cowells. I was among the Cowells, we were headstrong and considerate about joining hands once again with the winters up at River Creek. The Flints were always against it. A rule had now been made for River Creek to be off limits to all folks.
A rumor spread and word got out fast. The winters were found dead in their holding. They were all dead. This was revealed when a few of us Cowells ventured their lands one last time. We uncovered that they died by poisoning, one orchestrated by themselves. It was so unfortunate. Their blood line had ended. The Flints were furious at us Cowells for venturing River Creek. The matter was soon laid to rest.
I always wondered how the winters were like. Who they were and how they lived. Pa said they were the very unusual but they were really beautiful women among their ranks. He did marry one though. My mother, who died during the cursed days. May her beautiful soul rest in peace. He always said the only thing I got from him was his eyes, the rest were my Mother’s.
My grey hair, my never ending curiosity and very imaginative mind. I always though far. Farther than our lands or River Creek. Pa said away from all this was Bandits, Child-diddlers and Lady Killers. I didn’t want to believe it but I did. I had now come across something that took my thoughts away from all that. I had sought after many things but this was different from the latters.
Well shit, I’d be damned. I had got a hold of a letter. A crow had delivered it. I’d have thought it was for another, the flints or another family. It was right there on the letter, my name written “To Nigel”. It was an invitation, from a lady. A lady? A lady wrote to me? Most ladies around here wouldn’t look my way. The way I looked this set people off and made them quite uncomfortable. ‘A grey-haired, a walking curse, the last of the winters,’ they called me.
The only unsettling thing about this invitation was that it was written from a lady called Lorraine Winters. It appears some of them survived and moved to a new outpost. She had written of how she and I were related and shouldn’t mention to anyone of this parcel. Her words were enthusing. Like she knew me. She did write of my Mother, paying respects to her.
She had now written to me twice, with me writing nothing in return. The second was about her whereabouts and how we needed to meet up. She often said I didn’t belong where I was. The Cowells treated me well, but I couldn’t say the same about the others. I was beginning think her words were true when a dreadful report got to Grey Valley. Jarred Cowell, a cousin of mine who had gone for an expedition alone was found death. Traces led back to River Creek, with his head on a spike right in front of the winters’ holding. His body was later found along the road.
All fingers were pointed at me. I was distraught. Knowing fully well I was at Grey Valley during this incident, some claimed I lurk away some times at night. Even those who I once thought were my family turned against me. Pa strongly defended me. Others were slowing pulling away from his camp in doubts. The Flints took this chance and struck down Pa. I was left defenseless.
I was sentenced to death by many knives. A tradition brought by the Flints, which has never been used until now. It would happen at noon of the next day. I would be stabbed by everyone I my colony, The Cowells, till I was death and left to rot. I wouldn’t even be given a befitting burial. I would be laid bare for the birds to perch.
Lucky for me, I was let loose by a girl from the Flint’s Family. Rebel Flint. She was the only one who would look at me with a smile and not scorn me like the others did. I was truly grateful and eternally in her debt. I promised I’d come back for her. Free her from Grey Valley and we would marry off in the sunset. We parted ways with a kiss. I had to say what she wanted to hear, I didn’t really care much for the Flint girl, but reveled her courage to free me.
I set off into the dark, venturing nowhere else but Lorraine Winters whereabouts. She and whoever was with were my last strings to family. I passed through dust devils and heavy rainfalls. Log travels from one land to another. I had grown a few strands under my chin. I await the rest of the winters to see the man I’ve become. One of their kindred is coming home. Home where he is known.
I had now reached my destination. It was awfully quiet with a sinister ambience. .The gates of this dome I now approached. Unlocked, since my arrival was expected. I did not expect myself to reach here at night. Perhaps a feast would be in my stead, I ached with hunger. The door gave quite the disturbing sound. Really silent it was.
Candles lit up with every step I made. How warmly welcomed I felt. I made my way through spider webs and dust in the air. No bother, they had their reasons for leaving it a mess I guess. The dinner hall I could now see in front, but a grey-haired I have not laid upon yet. Anyone at all. “Lo-Lorraine”, I called my breath had now gotten shaky. I think I’ll make my way through the stairs, seems they may be up there.
The steps creaked. The third step I made, my foot went right through. Leaving a hole I’m sure wouldn’t be noticed. I began to get wary as I had now reached the rooms upstairs. Still no sound to be heard. I really hoped it was a game or a tradition I wasn’t aware of. Pa did tell me they were unusual.
I could see portraits of people on the wall. Man and women all in white. Hand in hand they were, with a straight face they stood. All the rooms were filled with different stuff. Clothes, items and valuables alike. But no one was to be seen. I didn’t make the wrong turn, I’m sure this was where she described in the letter. The family name is engraved on the door right outside. That’s conclusive enough.
I walked ambled down the halls, till I heard footsteps run past me from behind. Quickly, all the doors that were open went shut. I could hear giggling in the rooms. I could hear the windows slamming. The voices grew louder. The footsteps ran faster. I caught sight of someone running and chased after them. They drifted down the halls, I ran in pursuit. “Lorraine! Lorraine winters! Is that you? I yelled. It had slipped my mind I made a hole along the steps. I reached forward to grab the white clothing of the grey-haired I chased. I lost my grip, made a step into the hole tripping me to fall.
I lost conscious to sound of children laughing around me. I thought to myself, if this was the Dark Holding Jarred always went on about. It was probably what led to his demise. He might have been given an invitation just like I was. Oh shit, my head would end up on a spike too.
I woke up with the stifling of tight clothing around me. I was at the dinner hall. It was now bright and elevating, clean I’d say. Free from webs, bugs and everything I saw upon entry. Grey-hairs by my right and left hand side. The seat in front of me was missing a person. We were just seven, expecting the arrival of the last Grey-haired.
They chattered indistinctly. The ladies giggled while the men gave pats on the shoulder. They seemed unbothered about me. Glass tingling from a distance, everyone went silent. A grey-haired in a black cloak slowly stepped in. He must be the head of this colony.
‘Lorraine,’ he said pointing to me. I had come to realize I was adorned and dressed in a woman’s clothing. He had a black sack in his hands. Everyone got back to their chatter now ignoring he and I. He tossed the sack over to me. It left wet stains of red as it toppled over to me.
I was gripped with fear but couldn’t show it. It was like I was manned to the chair. I didn’t flinch as a head rolled out of the sack. The head was that a grey-haired, all blooded and scarred. It felt to my feet, its face now staring at me. It was mine, it was head.
Suddenly, the ground began rumbling. A loud tremor it was. It appears to be the whole mansion crumbling. The dark crystals from the chandelier above scattered across the dinner hall. The other grey-hairs were still at it, chattering on. The cloaked one still pointing at me. His face I couldn’t see, for his eyes were hollow and dark.
Everything came crashing down upon us. I was unscathed waking up on a wooden surface. I was now in my own clothes, no longer in the dinner all with the others. It was like a shed where I was. Surrounded my mirrors. No reflection to be seen as I got up turning around. What hell awaits?
One of my reflection had now appeared. Looking estranged, he gleamed at me. He now dug his hands into his pockets, bringing out a dagger in one hand and nothing in the other, just a clenched fist. He slowed stepped out of the mirror fading to dust. With that giving me a relief, the mirrors shattered into pieces around me.
I saw a doorway in path and ran through it. I was at the gates, in front of me were heads on a spike. None were grey-haired. All but one was familiar, it was that of Jarred Cowell. This was his last destination. ‘Run Nigel, Run! The head shouted. My first step to escape was held back and I was sucked back in by tremendous wind. I clung to the door but the wind was too strong, releasing me from my grip.
This was my end, I could feel it. A sense of melancholy filled the air, as I struck the walls inside. I fell to the floorboards, I was now motionless. Before me was the cloaked grey-haired and a girl beside him. She was quite coy. She could be Lorraine winters for all I cared. Curses to you Lorraine winters.
The cloaked grey-haired wasn’t much of a big fella, but he lifted on his shoulders. He took me around back, with the girl trotted behind. ‘Welcome home Nigel,” she said softly in my ears as I galloped on the grey-haired shoulders. He set me down on the ground, the girl then blew white powder to my face. Everything got bleary, I could feel my neck resting on a wooden stall. I closed my eyes and hoped to be saved.
I heard a loud chop like I was set loose. I opened my eyes with my heading laying by the side, my side ear tickled by the grass, my neck felt free. A weight had been lifted off me. I was not able to move but I was certainly free, too free.
I was pulled my hair lightly. My body rose up, which just seemed to be only my head. Dripping blood by the minute. I felt no pain but eyes did when I saw the guillotine and my headless body. I forced the tears out but my lids were very much dry.
A stake was driven right up my neck. My tongue could taste the wood. I was moved to the gates with the rest of the other heads, rotting away in the way. I was given the spot Jarred was, his head was smashed to mush. The other heads were decayed and reeked of death.
I received an invitation to my death. Pa did tell most of us Cowells would wander so far to have our heads on a stake. I was so reckless and stupid. I would rather face the horrors of the colony than this. I was neither death nor alive. I was just here reliving my past mistakes.
A tree was burning from a distance. Most of the leaves burnt, the few others were now saved by the rain that just begun. As I thought of the leaves that would be left to bloom again, life was leaving me slowly. I was also going to set off to a new beginning.
I ascended into the sky. Now reaching a peak, a hand was reaching for me. I knew better than to take it. I drifted away, but it pulled me from behind. I was now whole, I had a body again. I could feel the tugging of my clothing. I was now brought forth a group of grey-hairs. I was in white clothing as they were. The hand that took me in had now shown its face.
“You are one of us now Nigel,’ she said. It was Lorraine. She said she was the girl from earlier. Nigel from a few moments would strangle her till she was breathing no more. I felt no regression. We walked with the others slowly, till we all entered a bright light. It was hot, really hot. Hot flames like fire. I wanted to let go but I let it consume me. Withering into ash.
I felt water around me. I was lying in a very shallow stream. I could hear Pa’s voice, halting the troops from their venture. I got up and walked up the hill. They had brought some people with them, from the old they said.
They were all grey-haired. The black cloak grey-haired was a sight for sore eyes. They were not captives, they were all like a dozen and a half who have agreed to join our colony. I searched around for Lorraine. When I caught sight of her, she was with Jarred, who had his head on his body, they were loading off the carrier.
They most have gotten along well through the journey. I can’t step in now without jarred making feel small with his conceited jesters. I was gently walked away to assist Pa in assigning them places to lay rest. “Hey Nigel,’ I heard from behind me. She noticed me.
Leaving Jarred, running towards me. She embraced me and kissed me on the cheek. I couldn’t see him, but I could tell Jarred was flustered. “We shall rule here together,’ she whispered into my ears. I didn’t take her word for good intent. I led her into the woods away from the others settling around.
We strode together admiring mother-nature. Her hand in mine, I grasped with a smile. We had walked far enough from the settlement. She stared at the gently flowing stream. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her tightly.
She had begun to feel discomfort. I pushed her into the stream, I leaped in after her. A rock in my hand, smashing repeatedly against her head. The water surrounding us was now blood. ‘Crazy Wench,’ I breathed out.
I thought she was dead. She gave out a faint breath and I struck her again till she was no longer breathing. I carried her till we reached a waterfall, and dumped her body. On the other side of the cliff, standing there was Rebel Flint.
She wasn’t in awe or moved about what she had seen. I bet she had trailed me from the settlement. She nodded her in agreement to what I had done. Together we walked back to the colony, conniving a story to explain Lorraine’s disappearance. It was all for good riddance.

Gone like the wind

The world on the outside is other people and what they do, on the inside it’s just you and what you do. I was fond of being single and doing everything alone. It was not a condition, an affliction, or even depression. I just choose to be like a wild flower in June, flaunting with fierceness but away from the rest of its kind. I’d do a lot of thinking when I am by myself.
I would think about a life with someone, or someone with a life. A life far better or worse than mine. Fiona. We’ve basically been neighbors our entire lives. Never had a conversation, not at home, school or anywhere our eyes met. She was the girl across my window. I could wave most nights we spot each other but I wouldn’t. I’d stare and she’d stare back till we shut the blinds.
I always wondered what she felt about me. Hate, love or something mutual. We would have something platonic, if I ever had the balls to talk to her without bailing out last minute. A decade and half I’ve lived and I was more curious about the rest of my life with Fiona. Things changed when we started high school.
The first few weeks, I was already seen as the weird kid. Fiona on the other hand was the prettiest girl at school. She wasn’t keen on keeping company with the other kids, so we were the same. Only that she was noticeable. I cherished my invisibility among the students. Even the teachers didn’t notice me. I was free from being held verbally hostage and any other interaction.
Fiona sat with me at lunch one time. We barely made eye contact for a long while. I was agitated to get up and leave. The other kids had their eyes fixed on us. They were stunned she’d sit with someone like me. ‘It’s okay I’m weird too,’ she said giving me an awkward smile. We started hanging out ever since.
I was starting to think she had a thing for me. She never once criticized for being a girl who wore baggy men’s clothing. She accepted me from who I was. I was seen, heard and felt by Fiona. It was more than I could ask for. Being with her made me more open, and I could even smile more.
Every day was the best. We had gotten really close, unlike before when a few feet apart was like a thousand miles. People didn’t quite approve of our relationship; her parents, mine and kids at school. Every eyes watching us on the street or wherever we went was obviously a scorn at me.
The opinion of others didn’t matter to us. So I thought. Recently, Fiona had become awfully distant. Maybe she finally got influenced by her parents. She avoided me at home, at school, and everywhere our eyes met. No more jumping out of the bushes to scare me, no more throwing rocks at my window, and even our spot at the waterfall was just my spot now.
Just me and my thoughts now. Now left to think of how to win her back. She wouldn’t just leave and stop having what we had. It was special. I had something great with someone great. I stopped by at her house to check up on her, it was stupid but I gave it a whirl. I thought her parents wouldn’t answer me at the door, they proved me wrong.
They took the pleasure telling me she had transferred to another school, a boarding school, away from me. My parents wouldn’t dare send me to a boarding school. They knew I’d take my chances in doing something drastic. They wouldn’t risk it.
Things weren’t the same. At least back when we didn’t talk, I could still see her every day. Staring out my window every night hoping she would show up, even though she was away. She did appear at her window. I could see her pretty face once again. This was real. She waved at me. I waved back. We stared at each other speechless, till we shut the blinds and went off to bed.
I slept with relief. Fiona was really back. I thought I’d never see her again. Her deep green eyes, her thin pink lips, her curly blonde hair, and that smile. The smile that lights up my day when I’m hovered with dark thoughts. I had regained my happiness. Even if the world wouldn’t let us be together, just having to see her is enough for me.
In my wake, it was still dark. I had barely had a decent sleep. I was woken up by a racket I heard outside. Someone might have stumbled into a trash can. I wanted to get back to sleep, but I was more eager to take a look out my window. Just to see a glimpse of who was out there.
It was Fiona. She wasn’t out here for me, she appeared to be walking straight ahead in the street and off into the woods. She was bare footed, leaving trails of muddy footsteps and she went on. I tried to call her name, but I it would raise an alarm. I rushed down to the porch to go after her.
Rain had fell the short period I was asleep. Now in the humid air, walking through moist bushes, going after her. Every step make her seem farther from me. Running through the bushes would be reckless, I took caution with every step I made. I called out her name severally, she didn’t respond.
She wasn’t sleepwalking. She was pretty much aware in the way she walked. I kept on calling her name, but still no response. I had no chance but to run towards her. A little step further and I’ll grab her by the shoulder. It was dark, but I was sure a cliff laid ahead. I hope she knew that.
‘Wait up, there’s a cliff up ahead,’ I yelled. Suddenly, I couldn’t move. Fiona went on. My feet were sinking into the wet sand. I tried to grab a few branches, but they broke right off. I was scared. I still had my eyes on Fiona. I screamed for her to help me. If only she would just take a look behind. Half of my body had sunk into the wet sand.
All hope was lost. Fiona had reached the cliff. My torso was buried in the depths of the wet sand. Now my neck was going down. My throat had gotten sore from shouting and screaming for help. Fiona halted at the cliff. She took a look behind, my eyes gleamed with hope and joy. She would come to my rescue, I thought. She smiled and waved her hand.
The mud had covered my mouth, I’d soon be taken whole into the hidden depths of the wet sand. Fiona turned to her front, leaping off the cliff. She was gone and I was going down. I was suffocated, till I couldn’t feel anymore. I felt wet concrete on my palms and face. I was back on the street in front of my house. My body was completely cleansed of mud from before.
My mind was in disarray, but I had this sense of relief still. I got inside and went up to my room. I stood at the window till sunrise. My eyes strained and weak, felt like they would roll out. I hadn’t seen Fiona. I waited a little bit longer. Someone came by her window. I was so certain it was going to be her.
It wasn’t Fiona. The curly blonde-haired was her mother. She had this pain in her eyes, like she hadn’t slept through the night. She saw me and started crying. Her husband came to her, asking me if I had seen Fiona. They explained they hadn’t seen her since dinner last night. I shook my head in confusion.
They organized a search party for Fiona later that day. I tagged along with them into the same woods. I pitied her parents, I had never seen them distraught. We wandered off with a group of people in the neighborhood, in search for Fiona. Two days had passed, she was officially declared missing. I forced myself not to believe what happened two nights before. I just couldn’t bear it any longer.
I went off into the woods that night. I followed the path we took. Everyone had went in search of her in this direction many times earlier, but I was hopeful. I found the spot where I sank in wet sand. Ahead was the cliff. I walked gently towards it. I flat laid on the ground because I was scared of the height. I couldn’t risk falling if I stood on the cliff. I peeped down, oh my, what a depth.
I crawled away from the edge. I moved backwards slowly, tears dropping from my eyes. I revered the moments Fiona and I had before this whole thing happened. I thought I knew her well enough to predict her thinking, I guess she had hidden depths.
I couldn’t testify to the police. The society already points a finger to people like me anyways. I’d be deemed the culprit immediately. I was the only one who knew the truth about her whereabouts. Where her cadaver laid bare. She was gone like the wind, leaving me with me mystery that is her death.
I had to wake up every morning hoping to feel less pain from the sad experience. I was back to being the weird loner kid, with the world revolving about someone other than me.

Dementia Night

The end of one’s life is the beginning of another. Like art best viewed at a distance, however, beautiful or disheartening. To branch out into nothingness or otherwise something ness. The soul leaping out, up and up and up it goes. We ascend as we admire our lifeless form on the ground. Gone forever, darkness befalls us, we are the light, a light fading away as the darkness embodies us. We are then lost in the darkness. Seeing through another life from another time.
Laying on my bed, back to the décor I am looking up to after a long walk in my mind. My thoughts have grown weirder in this new confined space. Our new house defines comfort but I tend to have this magnitude of discomfort and distraught that consumes me from the inside.
Hours ago during our arrival. Mom’s smile warm as ever, Dad with the brightest light in his eyes. Jessie never seemed to care much for the number of times we have relocated, but with this, I caught a glimpse of her non-existent side. The soothing sensation on her face. She often gave me the worst part of my days but I was unbothered most of the time in first few hours upon our arrival.
They had gone for a night out to have dinner. Nonchalant Alex, miss me with that crowd more than three people. I haven’t seen anyone since they left besides the pizza delivery dude. Barely even touched. Just there on the kitchen counter, probably cold about now. Silly as I’d rather be in my constant reverie than to fill stomach.
My thoughts are my safe space. If it were to be said out loud and conversed I would be observed a psychopath and end up being in a freaking psych ward. My room pretty much felt like a psych ward already except I wasn’t strapped to my bed. My limbs were more anti-social than I was, still wasn’t moving them anytime soon seeming the way the weather was. I had neglected the whistling of the wind and the way it frequently made loud bangs on the windows.
The thermostat in my room didn’t seem to be working, so much for a new house. I was already cozied up in the sheets, then I took the strength to till to the side to get more comfy. There my phone was, the end of the bed, shit! Could swear I plugged it in earlier. As I reach towards the charger on the drawer the unexpected happened. The lights had gone out, could be a blackout but why so sudden?
It felt like someone had pulled a switch that powered off the electricity in the whole area. The time was 11:49 PM, surprisingly they were not back yet. Could the storm have caused the blackout which may halted them on the way here? They left around 8:00 PM and I ordered shortly after. Has it really been that long? Time passed faster than I imagined.
As I thought to myself, sitting on the side of my bed looking out the window. Rain pouring down on my reflection on the glass window. Light came on in a house across the street. I felt a relief upon the sight. Not that I had the courage to go outside. My phone had died and the only form of light I had in my cold dark room was lightning from the storm which grew heavier as time went on. I kept on pondering what it would be like outside.
A ray of light shun into my room, it came from the house across the street. I got down to the carpet as fast as I could. No doubt it was a headlamp. Who am I kidding it’s just a friendly neighbor. I grabbed my coat and boots swiftly thanks to the likely headlamp. I rushed to the front door after staggering my way through the living room and hallway.
The wind outside felt like it could sweep me off my feet. The cold breeze gave shivers to the bone, I wish I never came out. The rain poured heavily and droplets felt like it was piercing through my coat. Every step I took grew heavier as I try to steady my balance. I had begun to walk past our backyard right before crossing over to the other side. The street was flooded, though shallow but seemed I could be swept away easily.
As I approached the streets, lightning struck, I caught a glimpse of a horrible sight. I was cold and stiff, I couldn’t bring myself to face the scene. There it was, a black silhouette, standing over a bloody corpse with a shining metal piece in his tight right grip. Oh God! Why me? Could have literally been anyone else, my coat was drenched and couldn’t move a muscle. Felt like my limbs were amputated but could make a stance.
I dared not make a sound. My voice withdrew completely, my jaws tightly sealed. Could it be the pizza dude never left? Dear God! The presence drew nearer to me as I heard a metal clang to the ground. I am done for. At that moment I just wanted to sink into the ground. Immense tension befell me. The presence grew stronger. I don’t want to die now! Not now please! I was shrugged down hard. Face first on the wet concrete.
Silence, just silence that was all there was at that moment. I couldn’t hear the rustling of the leaves, banging on the windows and the heavy downpour proceeded but not a sound. All I could hear as I was turned over with my neck tightly grasped was the heavy breathing of the oppressor. Eye closed, I’d not let that be the last face I see before my death. The oppressor squeezed harder, I just wanted it to be all over.
I could see myself laying on the ground. Someone over me, choking me to death. Was I dead? Was the pain all over? Had I escaped this horrible nightmare? Was I a lost soul aimlessly wandering? I glanced down, the choking had stopped. The oppressor rose to their feet. Swiftly looked at my direction up in the sky and tilted their head to the side slowly. They drew their hand into the air requesting me to come forth.
I was slowly fading, like a light into darkness. A strange force pulled me to the ground. There the oppressor was, waiting. I closed my eyes once again and went straight into the ground. I was nothing in nothingness. I was empty like I never existed. A bright light called for me with a soft voice, “Alex”, I reached for it. I wanted to be consumed by it anywhere but here.
My eyes were open, I was back to the décor in my room laying on my bed. So it seemed. The day bright and gloomy as ever. My phone on the drawer plugged in. The time was 11:49 AM, around the time we moved in. Wait! The Calendar hadn’t changed. Am I reliving a nightmare? God No! I got down to the carpet. Hitting my fist hard on the ground till it got sore, heavy droplets had stained the carpet from my eyes. Right before I wanted to give a loud yell, “Breakfast’s not going to eat itself”, mom said walking past my door. Yeah that’s right she was the bright light. Tears stopped rolling down my eyes as gave off a faint laugh.
Crazy that night at the exact moment as before, there was blackout except for the night out part. We were all at home. As I was about the hitting the sheets, early bed time but my mental health is good self-care. Enough weirdness in one day. My pillow fell to the ground, as I reached for it I saw a duffel bag. Inside was a wet black outfit, blood stained gloves and everything else that defined the oppressor. Demented Night.

Dementia Night

The end of one’s life is the beginning of another. Like art best viewed at a distance, however, beautiful or disheartening. To branch out into nothingness or otherwise something ness. The soul leaping out, up and up and up it goes. We ascend as we admire our lifeless form on the ground. Gone forever, darkness befalls us, we are the light, a light fading away as the darkness embodies us. We are then lost in the darkness. Seeing through another life from another time.
Laying on my bed, back to the décor I am looking up to after a long walk in my mind. My thoughts have grown weirder in this new confined space. Our new house defines comfort but I tend to have this magnitude of discomfort and distraught that consumes me from the inside.
Hours ago during our arrival. Mom’s smile warm as ever, Dad with the brightest light in his eyes. Jessie never seemed to care much for the number of times we have relocated, but with this, I caught a glimpse of her non-existent side. The soothing sensation on her face. She often gave me the worst part of my days but I was unbothered most of the time in first few hours upon our arrival.
They had gone for a night out to have dinner. Nonchalant Alex, miss me with that crowd more than three people. I haven’t seen anyone since they left besides the pizza delivery dude. Barely even touched. Just there on the kitchen counter, probably cold about now. Silly as I’d rather be in my constant reverie than to fill stomach.
My thoughts are my safe space. If it were to be said out loud and conversed I would be observed a psychopath and end up being in a freaking psych ward. My room pretty much felt like a psych ward already except I wasn’t strapped to my bed. My limbs were more anti-social than I was, still wasn’t moving them anytime soon seeming the way the weather was. I had neglected the whistling of the wind and the way it frequently made loud bangs on the windows.
The thermostat in my room didn’t seem to be working, so much for a new house. I was already cozied up in the sheets, then I took the strength to till to the side to get more comfy. There my phone was, the end of the bed, shit! Could swear I plugged it in earlier. As I reach towards the charger on the drawer the unexpected happened. The lights had gone out, could be a blackout but why so sudden?
It felt like someone had pulled a switch that powered off the electricity in the whole area. The time was 11:49 PM, surprisingly they were not back yet. Could the storm have caused the blackout which may halted them on the way here? They left around 8:00 PM and I ordered shortly after. Has it really been that long? Time passed faster than I imagined.
As I thought to myself, sitting on the side of my bed looking out the window. Rain pouring down on my reflection on the glass window. Light came on in a house across the street. I felt a relief upon the sight. Not that I had the courage to go outside. My phone had died and the only form of light I had in my cold dark room was lightning from the storm which grew heavier as time went on. I kept on pondering what it would be like outside.
A ray of light shun into my room, it came from the house across the street. I got down to the carpet as fast as I could. No doubt it was a headlamp. Who am I kidding it’s just a friendly neighbor. I grabbed my coat and boots swiftly thanks to the likely headlamp. I rushed to the front door after staggering my way through the living room and hallway.
The wind outside felt like it could sweep me off my feet. The cold breeze gave shivers to the bone, I wish I never came out. The rain poured heavily and droplets felt like it was piercing through my coat. Every step I took grew heavier as I try to steady my balance. I had begun to walk past our backyard right before crossing over to the other side. The street was flooded, though shallow but seemed I could be swept away easily.
As I approached the streets, lightning struck, I caught a glimpse of a horrible sight. I was cold and stiff, I couldn’t bring myself to face the scene. There it was, a black silhouette, standing over a bloody corpse with a shining metal piece in his tight right grip. Oh God! Why me? Could have literally been anyone else, my coat was drenched and couldn’t move a muscle. Felt like my limbs were amputated but could make a stance.
I dared not make a sound. My voice withdrew completely, my jaws tightly sealed. Could it be the pizza dude never left? Dear God! The presence drew nearer to me as I heard a metal clang to the ground. I am done for. At that moment I just wanted to sink into the ground. Immense tension befell me. The presence grew stronger. I don’t want to die now! Not now please! I was shrugged down hard. Face first on the wet concrete.
Silence, just silence that was all there was at that moment. I couldn’t hear the rustling of the leaves, banging on the windows and the heavy downpour proceeded but not a sound. All I could hear as I was turned over with my neck tightly grasped was the heavy breathing of the oppressor. Eye closed, I’d not let that be the last face I see before my death. The oppressor squeezed harder, I just wanted it to be all over.
I could see myself laying on the ground. Someone over me, choking me to death. Was I dead? Was the pain all over? Had I escaped this horrible nightmare? Was I a lost soul aimlessly wandering? I glanced down, the choking had stopped. The oppressor rose to their feet. Swiftly looked at my direction up in the sky and tilted their head to the side slowly. They drew their hand into the air requesting me to come forth.
I was slowly fading, like a light into darkness. A strange force pulled me to the ground. There the oppressor was, waiting. I closed my eyes once again and went straight into the ground. I was nothing in nothingness. I was empty like I never existed. A bright light called for me with a soft voice, “Alex”, I reached for it. I wanted to be consumed by it anywhere but here.
My eyes were open, I was back to the décor in my room laying on my bed. So it seemed. The day bright and gloomy as ever. My phone on the drawer plugged in. The time was 11:49 AM, around the time we moved in. Wait! The Calendar hadn’t changed. Am I reliving a nightmare? God No! I got down to the carpet. Hitting my fist hard on the ground till it got sore, heavy droplets had stained the carpet from my eyes. Right before I wanted to give a loud yell, “Breakfast’s not going to eat itself”, mom said walking past my door. Yeah that’s right she was the bright light. Tears stopped rolling down my eyes as gave off a faint laugh.
Crazy that night at the exact moment as before, there was blackout except for the night out part. We were all at home. As I was about the hitting the sheets, early bed time but my mental health is good self-care. Enough weirdness in one day. My pillow fell to the ground, as I reached for it I saw a duffel bag. Inside was a wet black outfit, blood stained gloves and everything else that defined the oppressor. Demented Night.