You Love her until She kills You

She is beauty

an ethereal being

flawless, infallible, perfect

 

You marvel at her prominent ribs

her opulent white skin

her shadowed eyes

her hollowed legs

the flat smoothness of her belly

 

You dream of her

Her infinite beauty

 

You long for her when hunger gnaws at your stomach

raw and painful

resonating deep within your being

a pounding throbbing void

 

You weep and beg for her approval

her sweet soothing voice

her eloquent words that support your bravery

You yearn for her, now more than ever

 

But nothing will suffice her demands

she teaches that hunger is succulent

and starvation is an art form

and you are her masterpiece

 

The world is too cruel, too cold

Ice scorches your veins pulsing wild sapphire

arctic white surges through your body

cold and unmerciful

You scream for help, but fatigue has made you voiceless

The ice surrounds you, your mind, your heart

and soon you freeze

 

For a second you watch

as she sheds your body like an old skin

steps out of you in all her glamour,

and leaves you

grotesque, distorted and mangled

a splintered fragment of yourself

 

Truth in Mirrors

You move in delirium. Slowly, languidly your legs carry you toward the silver glow emanating from underneath the bathroom door. The night exhales an icy breath and a shiver trickles through your body.

Your watch in a daze as your hand turns the knob.

Inside, the shattered mirror calls in its soft persistent tone. “Come see your truth.”

From the swirling depths of the mirror blank, milky, pupil less eyes stare at you from beneath sallow skin. Almost lovingly, the creature wraps its grotesque, mangled hands around your neck.

The truth suffocates you in silent terror.

A Piece of A Dream

It starts to drizzle. Raindrops fall silently, softly, little drops of wetness that speckle the concrete. We run down the empty streets, our matching violet coats prominent against the colorless background. Our footsteps echo loud and our giggles are piercing in the silence of the world.

Suddenly Kaitlin stops. “Come here,” she mummers, her voice the soft chime of bells. My knees tremble slightly as I step forward. She laces her fingers into mine. She is so close I can feel her body radiate heat, our auras intertwining, and merging together, becoming one. She smiles and parts her lips to blow warm cinnamon scented air into my face. I giggle, an odd, nervous sound. Her cheeks are flushed from the cold and her freckles shimmer like specks of golden fairy dust sprinkled all over her face. She wraps her long, skinny arms around my waist, leaning her head against my chest. I listen to the soft thumb of her heart, imagining that our hearts are beating in unison, pumping blood into our arteries at a rhythmic pace.

For a while, we stand like that, wrapped up in each other’s warmth. Then she lifts her head to gaze up at me, her eyes shimmering a hazy morning grey. My breath catches in my throat.

She presses her lips against mine, hard and full of suppressed passion.

I shiver and pull away, “I have to go,” I say, quickly.

Falling Back into The Earth

I close my eyes

And fall back into Earth

Sink into the mud

Breath in the stars

And brilliant night air

I return to the soil

The deep murky depths

The dry rocky clay

I dissolve along with the sun

Melting into an orange crusted sky

I shatter like a raindrop

On a cold concrete floor

I hear the hum of an Earthquake

And shake with the ground

I feel myself breaking

Moaning in endless pain

I am the silence before a storm

Thick and voluminous

Electric with tension

I am the storm

The twisting, screaming tornado

The black howling body

The wails in protest against the destruction of the Earth

Splintered Memories

A grey sky for a grey world

The cold stings and charcoal clouds weep

 

Broken memories resurface

like coiling snakes

They wrap around pallid fingers

And whisper somber tunes

An ancient lullaby unearthed

To mumble of its translucent promises

 

The everlasting taste of hot chocolate

Bittersweet on a yearning tongue

The porcelain cup stained deep brown

Shakes in scared hands

 

And then it falls and shatters

Thousands of white pieces

Onto hard concrete

The sound rings hollow

In ears that cannot hear

And a silent scream erupts

From a mouth that cannot speak

 

The septic past bleeds

And cries out in scarlet red agony

Diamond Dancer

Diamond Dancer

The girl danced as the snow fell silently

Collecting on rooftops

Dipping the world in an infinite white

Her bare feet stung on the cold ice floor

Eyes closed; silver stars on the tips of her dark lashes

Little chips of glitter that clung before sliding down

Her dress spun smudging the white in grey color

Hands spread out to the heavy sky

A fierce smile blazing on a small forlorn face

flushed pink roses blooming on white cotton cheeks

Curls of the deepest midnight glory

Thin scars on translucent fingers

Twisting to the invisible music that sung within her motions

A brilliant warmth emanating into the pallid world

And then the shot

That pierced the air and then girl

Made her body limp and numb

Scarlet spreading fast on the delicateness of her figure

She fell

Onto the ice

A smile frozen on her child face

 

 

 

The bell rings, as I stumble into the classroom. Every seat is taken, except for the one in the back row next to Tanya. I wind my way over to the seat and slump down. I start rummaging around in my backpack, pulling out pens, pencils, and loose papers, trying to place them in some sort of order onto my desk. When I look up I catch Tanya’s eyes on me. She twirls a string of electric green bubble gum around her finger, while simultaneously chewing it. Her eyes are rimmed with dark eyeliner, her lashes thick with mascara. Her dull apathetic grey optics scrutinize me. “You look different,” Tanya states.

I quickly avert my eyes back onto my paper. “Yeah, I grew.” I mumble, color rushing into my face.

“No, that’s not it,” she says, flatly. She blows a bubble that pops with a loud smack and she tilts her head slightly to the right to observe me from a different angle. I keep my eyes trained toward the board where Mr. Martin is explaining something about fractions, but his words blur into one another becoming garbled. I can feel Tanya’s gaze scorching my skin, every pore burns. When the bell rings signaling the end of class, Tanya blocks my path. “You should sit with us at lunch today, we eat under the willow,” she says, unsmiling. She spins on the heel of her black boot and strides away without waiting for me to reply, her motions swift and graceful.

*          *          *

“Oh god, oh god!” Abigail runs over to me, her long arms flailing wildly in the air, “I think I failed my math test! I don’t know what to do! My mom is going to kill me, oh god oh god!” Abigail paces back and forth in front of me, digging her fingers into her hair. A few strands have fallen out of her usual perfect bun.

“That’s terrible Abi,” I say, my voice lukewarm, “Listen, I am going to sit with Tanya today, so I will see you tomorrow?”

Abigail whips her head around to look at me, disbelief shimmering in her hazel eyes. “What did you say?”

“I am eating with Tanya.”

Abigail blinks a few times, furrowing her brow, “Why would you do that?”

“Because, she invited me,” I say lightly, trying to keep my veneer of calm. Abigail opens and closes her mouth a few times, fruitlessly searching for words that won’t come to her. I curve my lips into a smile, “Well, see you later, I guess,” I chirp.

“I guess,” Abigail mumbles, staring after me, as I head toward the willow.

*          *          *

            Tanya’s group lies spiraled underneath the beautiful willow tree, whose leaves sparkle with trapped sunlight. My pace slows as I near them, suddenly unsure. They seem almost surreal with their worn bulky leather coats they wear despite the heat.

“Who is that?” a boy asks, staring at me from beneath his mess of black hair. Tanya looks up and motions for me to come sit down. “This is Scar,” she says. Then she points to the rest of the group, “Eva.” Eva smiles, her freckles dance on her cheeks like golden flecks of fairy dust. She brushes her unevenly cut chestnut hair out her face with a long pale finger so she can see me better. “Zack.” A corpulent boy, with green hair and small blue eyes lifts a casual hand. “Archer and Aireonna.” Archer doesn’t bother looking up, busy playing with Aireonna’s bra strap. Aireonna however lifts an elegant eyebrow, “Scar?” she asks, disgust clear in her voice.

“Scarlet,” I say hastily, “Its Scarlet.”

Aireonna snorts and turns back to whisper something into Archer’s ear, clearly dismissing me as not worth her time.  “And Tristan.” Tanya ends, pointing to a tall, brawny boy. Tristan smiles, a large gap-toothed grin. “I remember you.” I nod, we had been going to school together since Elementary. His grin widens, “You’re really pretty.”

I feel heat crawl up my neck, “thanks,” I stutter, flustered.

“So we are all going to go to this party at 11:00,” Tanya says, “You in?”

“Yeah, sure, cool,” I say.

“Cool,” Tristan repeats. Aireonna cackles and Eva gives me an apologetic glance.

*          *          *

My alarm clock glows 10:30 and I quickly slip out of bed. The silence is palpable; I can almost hear my parents soft breathing from across the wall. I get ready in candle light; pulling on the low-cut black dress, I kept hidden underneath my bed, and paint my eyelids in dark magenta. It is surprising how easy it is to climb out of my window and step onto the grass below unnoticed. A crescent moon shines above the quiet houses bathing their white-picket fences and pruned bushes in an eerie glow. The night feels alive and ominous, a shiver run down my spine. I strain my ears and hear the low rumble of a nearing vehicle.

Tristan’s rundown jeep rolls down the driveway, another fleeting shadow passing through the streetlights. The back door opens and I jump inside, squishing myself between Tanya and Aireonna. “Watch out,” Aireonna snaps, as I accidently step on her foot. Tanya’s pale grey eyes are vivified; flaming with anticipation. She fidgets in her seat, constantly crossing and uncrossing her long legs and playing with strand of her freshly raven black hair.

“I like your dress,” Eva whispers in my ear, from the behind me.

“I like your’s too,” I whisper back. She blushes a little, flattening her dress that is little more than a formless green sag of fabric with holes for her arms. Even in the darkness, I can see the ugly discolorations that stain her pale alabaster skin.

“Yeah, both of you are unbelievably beautiful,” Aireonna laughs, her emerald green eyes glittering dangerously. The scent of her cheap lavender perfume is pervasive and I have to fight the urge to breathe through my mouth.

*          *          *

Archer parks the car in front of an old apartment building. The walls vibrate from the sound of muted music. Aireonna keeps on pulling her dress down as we walk up the steps leading to the apartment. We trudge in silence. I can feel Tanya’s breath, hot, against my neck. Tristan stops abruptly in front of a bland beige colored door engraved with the chipped gold number 116. “Welcome to the underworld,” Tristan drawls, his dark eyes glinting in the moonlight.

The door opens with definite creak, “My lady,” Tristan whispers, a stifled chuckle in his voice. I waver, my body tingling with mix excitement and fear. Aerionna lets out an exasperated sigh and jabs her skinny elbow at me to push her way inside. For a moment her red hair shimmers, before she is swallowed by the darkness. The others follow her, wordlessly. Tanya moves with her unearthly grace, while Archer and Zach slouch behind her. I am last.

The apartment is drenched in a deep indigo glow. Music thunders in my ears, a discord of noise that mutates into a line of shrill blaring tones. There are people from our school; juniors, seniors, and people I have never seen before; older people. Hot bodies rub against me and I realize with inclining panic that I am surrounded. Tanya is wrapped tightly around a stranger; their arms so entwined they seem to have become one swaying body. Aireonna bangs her head and jumps up and down oblivious to the tightening crowd. Archer pumps his fist to the music, his arm around a girl with bubblegum pink hair. Tristan and Zach lean against a wall nonchalantly puffing smoke. I search the crowd for Eva’s pale ethereal form; but there are too many people. I am drowning. The sea of pulsing bodies is endless. I grasp hold of Tanya’s arm, “Where is Eva?” She shrugs my hand off her arm with a disinterested ‘check the bathroom’.

The bathroom door stands open ajar and I hear a soft sobbing coming from inside. I step in. The pungent smell of sweat and vomit is almost unbearable. Eva’s body hangs draped over the toilet seat; her hair falls in greasy strands over her face. She raises her head when I come up, her eyes vacant bottomless pits. Dark trails of mascara run down her cheeks; black tears of infinite despair. Her body shakes as she clings to the rim of the toilet seat. Her baggy dress that is ripped on one side displays vivid purple and blue bruises.

Without a word, I grab hold of her, hang one of her fragile arms around my shoulder and hold her waist. I fight my way past the bodies; through the crowd; the giant black beast with gleaming teeth and thousands of rough, calloused hands that grab at us from all sides. I walk out supporting Eva. Away from the apartment, the music, and the monsters.

The air is cool and clean on our skin as we drag ourselves down the sidewalk. Eva’s weight is heavy on my knees. “Take, the bus.” Eva’s breath reeks of alcohol.

*          *          *

I knock on the door, no answer. “The key is under the mat,” Eva rasps. I bend quickly. Eva sways slightly, but manages to keep her balance. I jiggle the lock a few times and then the door swings open. Darkness. My hand searches for a light switch. It flickers a few times then stays on. A stained grey sofa stands in the middle of a small beige room. Empty Doritos bags, candy wrappers, dirty clothing, and cigarette buds litter the floor. On the table dirty plates, and leftover food piles.

I heave Eva onto the sofa. “Where is are your parents?” I ask softly.

“Somewhere over the rainbow,” Eva chuckles dryly, “somewhere over the rainbow.” Her head lolls to one side and her eyes fall shut. The hum of the refrigerator and Eva’s slow ragged breaths fill the air. I slump down into the worn couch and watch the hypnotic tick of the clock for a while, fighting the sleep pressing against my eyes.

When I open my eyes again the clock shows 4:00 in the morning. I shift to get up, but Eva’s skinny fingers clench my wrist. Her touch is ice cold. “No, wait!” she cries her voice laced with fear. Her pupils dilate and shadows play on her gaunt, skeletal face. “Don’t go!” she begs, her voice windchimes in a roaring storm. I take her hands in mine and promise her that I will stay the whole night.

*          *          *

The sun blazes white in a cloudless blue sky. “Hey Abigail,” I sigh as I slide into my usual place next her. Abigail doesn’t acknowledge me. She is in a heated rant about the B-plus Mr. Gibson gave her on her math test with Tara and Kate who are both nodding earnestly, their red ribboned ponytails bobbing up and down. I pull out my lunch that looks bland next to their colorful polka-dot lunch bags, filled with warmed pasta and gourmet salads. I nibble at my sandwich and listen to Abigail. When she finishes her tirade she turns to glare at me; her familiar kind brown eyes livid. I shuffle my feet, uncomfortable, but force myself to meet her eyes.

Her gaze softens a little, “You look terrible.” I nod. I borrowed Eva’s tie-dye shirt and worn out jeans and the make-up from last night still stains my face. She sighs and rolls her eyes. “Just, don’t ditch me again, Scarlet, or else you will be in some serious trouble,” she teases, pinching my side.

I catch sight of Tristan and Eva meandering toward the willow. Tristan nods at me and behind him Eva smiles meagerly and gives a tiny wave. Abigail follows my gaze, “You know you can sit with them, if you want.” I nod.

 

 

 

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