Mare Moody - [blank]

From way up in the heavens, the horizon flowed like a dirty sea. Specks of brown marsh glided gracefully as the mountains matched the wing. Oceans of green swirled in the abyss below. The pioneers of the air now knew what it felt like to be a pirate of the wind. To conquer a debauched conquest that only a few dreamed of in the near past.

The metal eagle soared farther more. The menial movements of the pilot shook the plane like an earthquake. His slight touch of the finger created waves in the stagnant waters of existence. His methodical fiddling started ripples of effects. The sea below spread out an abundance of leather under the thick atmosphere. The knitted fen seemed to continue forever. The sun beat harder than it ever had but the frigid current overpowered the goddess and cooled the pilot evermore.

The dips felt like a canoe shaking to and fro, lulling the young nymphs to sleep in it's never ending river. This too would be one of the ends as we know it. The map of the world seemed like a work of art created by a warm hand. Every pattern and presence of hills seemed so perfect and purposeful.

The entire globe was waterlogged in the waves of warmth. The white froth of the clouds tides blanketed the earth. The hearth of the horizon calmed Mother Earth and the pilot smiled down at the creation and knew that it was good. The majesty would only fade if fated to. The cabin held everyone the effervescence had ever met. In them was the opportunity for millions more.

If the ship sailed smoothly they would arrive without woes and praise the pilot. This is not always how it goes. Sometimes the turbulence stirs the passengers and the whole idea of life is made intricate. Even the passengers knew that when the plane would land, the shaking would grow and move the cabin still.

But who shall we blame? The pilot who could not predict the clouds behavior? The wind who could not think of any but itself? Or perhaps the passengers for letting themselves be pushed? Or perhaps it is no fault but fate's. We mortals will never understand why. Perhaps for a reason.

As my brain begins to silence with those fleeting thoughts, I pull myself to my feet. The bed lends itself as my noble support. I do not even look in his direction. I get up and walk away as I know I have to.

My feet bring me back the way I had come the night before. Across the cool pavement that barely heated up overnight lays my fate. My aching feet continue on my quest. I just need to get home.

When at last I reach my door mat and open the door to my house, the terror of what is inside begins to hit me. In that small moment, living with the rapist I had just greeted for the thousandth time seemed more appealing than the rat-infested shack that laid before me.

The whole house stirs with nothingness. The ghosts of the past leak out through the air vents and the tintinnabulation of the grandfather clock is never truly on time.

I open the door. The wind catches in the door frame and whistles at me. I move forward still. One foot in front of the other.

I have not been home all morning so it is still dark in the house. I reach on the wall and flip the light switch. The lights have a delayed reaction but turn on after some persuasion of the old wiring. A yellow glow spreads across the front room. Old furniture lays in a thick layer of dust. No one has sat on it in years.

I walk through of the barren wasteland and up the stairs. Perhaps if I went back to sleep, I can pretend that my entire existence is just one sick dream.

My sore feet lead me to my bed and I crawl under the blankets to hold in my thoughts.

Why do I love him? Why am I addicted to the addicted? I clench the sheet on my bed. I can feel my heartbeat through my balled up fists. My eyes squeezed shut. Would a prayer really do much at this point?

Please. I do not even know if you are there… it seems like you have never been. I love you and your negligence. Forgive my sins… forgive his.

Get me out of here.

I close my eyes and I see his face. The sheer amount of times that I’ve had his body on top me, both willing and unwilling overwhelms my weak corpse.

A feeling overwhelms my entire existence. That feeling you get when your toes curl over and your muscles tense. Your heart throbs but the throbbing feels good and you don’t want it to stop. Everything is beautiful and perfect for those few seconds but those seconds really feel like hours and you can’t help but smile. Smiling doesn’t do this feeling justice. You want it to never leave and for the time being it feels like it never will. You want to care for it and lull it so that it never has to.

All it does is eat and eat but the eating feels good on your heart so you feed it more. It eats and eats and eats. Those long deep hugs. Eat. Those smooth and endless kisses. Eat. Those laughs and jokes through the night. Eat, eat, eat. It can’t leave. It is unconditional.

Then you think about when it could go and your heart throbs in a new way. A painful way and you want it to stop. You feel sick and healthy at the same time and all the colors of the rainbow seem to blend. The world begins to look like the most beautiful train wreck.

But then he looks at you again and with those sly remarks and gorgeous freckles he makes you believe that all is well. And all is love. And you don’t want it to leave. But I simply cannot have a love like this.

All he wants is sex. All he wants is my insides and not me.

I wish he was mine.

I wish I am someone he will love like I love him.

My sobs return heavier than ever. It shakes my bed. My fists are still clenched and slowly turning yellow from the lack of circulation. I begin to cry out.

I shove my balled up fist in my mouth. I taste the fabric of my sheet. It tastes like his sweat. I open my eyes. The room around me spins lightly. Just enough for me to notice yet not enough for me to care.

I could will myself to get up and go back to his house. I know I did nothing wrong but I feel the need to apologize. I caused him pain. Emotionally.

I stare at the ceiling. There are 30 tiles. 10 of which have water stains.

Go. the voices whisper to me.

I shake my head. Ignore. Ignore. Ignore.

Go!

I rip off the bed sheet from on top of me and throw it on the floor. A force outside of my own pushes me to the floor with the blanket.

My body hits the ground like a bag of sand. Entirely limp. If I resist, it only gets worse.

I stand up.

“Ok,” I say breathlessly, “I’ll go.”

I walk out of my room.

He walks with seduction in his step. The devil and he must be very good friends. He slowly walks toward me. He analyzes me.

He smirks, “Why are you here?”

He puts his hand under my chin and pulls my face towards his. He pulls me into a kiss that I can’t get out of—even if I do in fact want to get out of it.

After his lips part from mine, he looks into my eyes anticipating an answer.

“I-uh—” I search for words but none come to mind. Think . Why did you come here?

“Did you come to apologize?” He says chuckling.

“Y-yes…” I say timidly.

“Well, I forgive you.” He backs up and looks at my apparel. I’m dressed in the drab shirt from last night.

“Why don’t we get you into something nicer?” He smiles and walks forward. He presses his mouth to my ear. I can feel his hot breath down my neck. “Or maybe nothing would suit you better.”

He grabs my hand and immediately turns around. He walks toward the stairs, leading me. My only thought is if this is going to be willing or unwilling. Who knew with this man.