Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Think About It...

“People say, 'I'm going to sleep now,' as if it were nothing. But it's really a bizarre activity. 'For the next several hours, while the sun is gone, I'm going to become unconscious, temporarily losing command over everything I know and understand. When the sun returns, I will resume my life.'

If you didn't know what sleep was, and you had only seen it in a science fiction movie, you would think it was weird and tell all your friends about the movie you'd seen.

They had these people, you know? And they would walk around all day and be OK? And then, once a day, usually after dark, they would lie down on these special platforms and become unconscious. They would stop functioning almost completely, except deep in their minds they would have adventures and experiences that were completely impossible in real life. As they lay there, completely vulnerable to their enemies, their only movements were to occasionally shift from one position to another; or, if one of the 'mind adventures' got too real, they would sit up and scream and be glad they weren't unconscious anymore. Then they would drink a lot of coffee.'

So, next time you see someone sleeping, make believe you're in a science fiction movie. And whisper, 'The creature is regenerating itself.” 
-George Carlin, Brain Droppings

Guardian Angel

 I was sitting on the damp ground with my back to the wall. Heavy irons around my wrists and ankles. I kept my eyes closed and let my hands do the seeing. The iron was cold and left chills down my spine. My fingers caressing the earth I sat on, gliding over tiny rocks. I extended my legs, my bare feet being buried in the cool soil. I opened my eyes.

I was completely in the dark except for a small stream of light pouring out of some unknown opening in the high ceiling of my dungeon. The light hurt my eyes so I had to squint and let them adjust to see. It was a small circular room with high stone walls. I was the only one here. My hair clung to my neck and fell down my shoulders. It was so filthy. In fact, my whole body was filthy. My arms and legs were covered in mud and bruises. I tried to rub my ankles, which were throbbing in pain, but my chains tightened and wouldn’t allow my hand to reach. What am I doing here?

I heard a scream from somewhere. It sounded distant and close at the same time. It sounded like….me.

I began to panic. I screamed for help, louder and louder. But nothing. I sobbed. What did I do?

I scratched the dirt with my nails then balled my hands into fists. What the fuck did I do to get HERE? This dark dingy place. This cold place. Do I belong here?

I let myself drift off, my eyes losing focus, I stared into the dark. What kind of person would be in a place like this?.....a bad one. Maybe I was bad.  Was I?

What makes a person bad? Is it how they act? Or perhaps it’s their thoughts?

I behaved like a good person. I never hurt anyone intentionally. I was a good friend. A good person. I knew it. I just knew it. It was something that used to be important to me…I think? Why cant I remember?

But my thoughts….. there was something in me that began to scratch at the seams that held me together. No, my thoughts weren’t so good. They had never been. Am I here because my mind is twisted?

My eyes came back to focus just in time to see something dart across the room. I tried to follow it with my eyes, but it moved quickly and silently. What was that? I was scared. My breathing quickened, as did my heart beat.

Hello? No answer.

Tears began to well in my eyes, blurring my vision. Slowly the outline of a person came into my vision. They were walking towards me. I blinked the tears out of my eyes and felt them roll down my cheeks. I looked up at my visitor…


Hi, baby.

Dad, where am I? What is this place?

You know where you are, Jen.

I do?

You put yourself here.

What? I don’t understand. Why would I do that?

He stood over me now, looking down at me.

So I could do this..

He bent down and ran his hand up my leg slowly. He reached the hem of my dirty tattered dress and lifted it easily. His hand continuing up towards…no…..


You want this don’t you?

No! What are you doing?

He smiled as he began to touch me and rub down there. This couldn’t be happening. I screamed out, I writhed, I tried to escape, but my chains held me. I tried to force my legs closed but he pried them open and continued to roughly finger me. Smiling the whole time. I couldn’t take my eyes away from him. I could feel my body responding to his touch, but I didn’t want it to….did I?

My screaming turned to moaning and I was no longer fighting to close my legs. I arched my back and closed my eyes. His speed quickened and I could feel my release coming faster and faster with every flick of his finger.


Right before I could orgasm he began to laugh hysterically, I opened my eyes and looked at him. He turned to ash and fell in a pile at my feet.

I sat there in the dark with just enough light to watch the ash floating in the air, falling lightly on my skin. I closed my legs and tried to rub some of the ash off the area’s that my chains would permit. All it seemed to do was make me even dirtier.

What just happened? How could I have….enjoyed that? What the fuck was wrong with me?

Disgusted with myself I screamed out. I screamed until my throat was raw and my voice hoarse. When I couldn’t scream anymore I hung my head and cried.

Suddenly a noise came that interrupted me. I stopped crying and held my breath in anticipation to hear it again. There it was! What was that? Where was it coming from? I looked all over the room. There was no way of telling how big the room actually was. Who knew what actually lay past that deep darkness. The noise continued….like a clanking of metal. Maybe chains? Are those footsteps? I couldn’t hold my breath any longer and exhaled loudly. I was so terribly scared.  Suddenly another man stepped into my vision. Coming from the darkness, he could’ve been the devil himself. He wore a mask over his face but his torso was bare. He was gigantic, looming over me like death. His wide shoulders and massive arms. He wore black pants with  chains hanging off of them. That must’ve been where the noise was coming from. He wore thick blacksmith’s gloves, and in his left hand a whip was coiled up. He looked down at me and I heard a deep laugh escape from behind his mask. The whip uncoiled loosely down to the ground, leaving little whisper marks in the dirt.  In his right hand he held a large metal hoop with three keys on it. He began to walk towards me. Those huge leather, probably steel toed, boots making the dirt crunch underneath his weight. He leaned over and unlocked my irons, first my wrists then my ankles. All I wanted was to run, but my limbs suddenly couldn’t move. It was as if I hadn’t used them in years.

He bent down and grabbed my arms and lifted me over his shoulder. I didn’t fight him, I couldn’t. Even if I had the energy, this man could kill me with a flick of his hand. He set me down, and I swayed back and forth on my weak legs. He grabbed my wrists and held them above my head. Clink. The sound of the iron’s being clasped around my wrists again.  He stepped back and inspected me. I was standing in the middle of my dungeon now. The light pouring over top me now, riddling my body with shadows. My arms suspended above my head, tightly held by big rusty iron cuffs.  He turned and stepped out of the light disappearing in the darkness. I heard a squeaking noise. I suddenly started to be raised off the ground. I looked down and my breathing once again quickened. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck…

I came to my senses and began to scream for help. Screaming so loud. My throat was still raw, but I was scared beyond belief. I needed to get out. Now. The man slowly stepped into the light in front of me. He was probably just a few feet from me. I could smell him. Sweat, leather, and something else. I recognized it. I’d smelled it before. What was that smell?

I stopped screaming and  stared into that dark mask. I was hanging there for him, the way I knew he wanted me. Maybe 2 feet off the ground. The iron digging into my wrists as all my weight pulled me down. My heart hammering against my ribs and sweat falling off my forehead….I was helpless.

He began to slowly circle me. I couldn’t see him but I could hear him walking behind me. His pace constant, slow. I’m not sure how many times he circled me. I began to get light headed and delusional. All I could hear was that low grumble of a laugh, and those slow steps. Was I falling in and out of consciousness? I couldn’t feel my arms anymore and my head felt like it weighed a million pounds. But he just kept circling me. Never speaking. Just walking, like a lion hunting a gazelle.

Suddenly, a ripping noise. He was tearing my dress off my body. The material fell, crumpled and dirty, at my feet. My nipples hardened, and goose bumps flew up my entire body. I was awake now. His walking stopped, and he stood behind me. I couldn’t see him. A loud crack echoed and I felt the whip bite into my back. I screamed out. Christ! My head shot back and I squeezed my eyes shut. He kept whipping. Crack…crack….crack….crack. I kept screaming. Sobbing. Pleading. Begging. Every whip was like fire and ice down my back. I clenched my teeth and tried to prepare myself for the next one. It didn’t matter. The pain never dulled. My body didn’t go numb, or into shock. It just kept rippling through my body.

Do I deserve this? I must. I know I do. My mind is like a rotted fruit. It’s sick. And I need to be punished. Suddenly my pleading wasn’t for him to stop, it was for more. And he was more than happy to oblige. He began to put some of that muscle into it. I could feel something warm running down my back. Blood. His whip cut into my skin, and I liked it. I loved it. The pain seared through my body and I felt every molecule, every atom, scream for more. My head was throbbing and my legs tingling. My body told me it couldn’t take anymore, but I told it to shut the fuck up. I could take it. I had to take it. I THIRSTED for more. I closed my eyes and tears streamed down my face.

The whipping stopped and the man pressed himself up behind me. I could feel his sweaty chest pressed against my back. Even with me suspended in the air his head was still by my head. He rested his chin on my shoulder. He was breathing heavy and his breath smelled sweet. He turned his head and inhaled deeply into my hair. His skin was rubbing my fresh wounds and it burned and made me inhale sharply as well. What was he doing? He put his arms around me and cupped my breasts. He rubbed and pinched each nipple. My body writhed and I let out a moan. My body was going into sensation over load. He ran his rough hands down the sides of my body. Moving slowly and feeling every curve. His long arms extended down my hips and to my thighs. He reached in front and grabbed my inner thighs, forcing my legs to pull up. He gripped me just above the back of my knee, pulling my knee’s to my chest, completely exposing my soaking wet vagina.

My arms still numb and the iron still ripping into my skin, my back shredded and bloody, and now my knees up by my ribs and my body splayed out for everyone to see….all I wanted was for this huge man to fuck me. I wanted him to tear into me like his whip. But before I could even whisper to him to fuck me, I saw movement in the shadows in front of me. The man was still pressed behind me holding my legs up. I narrowed my eyes and tried to see in the dark, but all I seen was the inky black. The squeaking noise came again and my body began to lower. The man behind me stayed frozen and holding me. My back sliding down his torso sending pain shooting through me. I screamed out. What was going on?

My body continued to lower until I was just a foot above the ground.. I looked into the darkness searching for whoever had lowered me. A child stepped out into the light, a little girl.  I hung there panting and staring at this little girl, more confused than ever. She had short, curly hair. There was a red bow tied at the top of her head. She had pale skin, with big eyes. Dark eyes. She looked like a normal little girl, but there was something off about her. She wore a white polo and a plaid skirt. She had white ruffled socks and shiny black buckled shoes. I stared at her, suddenly very aware of how exposed I was. I tried to lower my legs but the man held them tight. She stepped closer to me.

Who are you? I asked

Who do you think I am?

How would I know that?

She smiled sweetly, and looked down at me. Her eyes stopped at my sex.

What are you doing here? I tried to get her eye contact back up to my eyes, but she just kept looking.

I’m here because of you.



I don’t think you belong here, sweetie. This isn’t a place for kids.

I had no idea where I was, but I was pretty sure it was exclusively for bad people. Not innocent little girls.

She laughed.

What makes you think I’m innocent?

Had I said that out loud?

You’re just a little girl.

Now she raised her eyes to meet mine.

Were you innocent when you were a little girl?

My mouth opened to respond, but I couldn’t find the words. I just stared back at her. Was I innocent when I was a little girl? When did these bad thoughts come into my mind? Does corruption come with age? Or was I always a plague? Maybe I’m just the bruised, ugly part of the fruit. Maybe I just came into existence this way. The tears came again. The little girl looked back down into my opened legs. She began to walk towards me….


The voice came hurling through the room like a wrecking ball. The little girl and I both jumped.

Stop this Jennifer.

He came running into the center of the room. He looked so out of place. His clothes and skin clean, his clear blue eyes darting from the man behind me to the little girl, then finally rested upon me.

Oh God, Jennifer…..oh God


Just saying his name out loud seemed to bring fresh air into the room. I looked into his eyes. He looked back at me. Concern and love shouting back at me. Slapping me in the face. I looked away and cried. I didn’t want those things. Not here. This is no place for love. And why would he be worried about me? About someone like me…

Jennifer…look at me

I didn’t want to. I could still feel the big man behind me, his grip had loosened a little but still held my knee’s high. I glanced up at the little girl who suddenly seemed afraid and meek. Was she shaking?

Finally I looked up at him.

Oh God, Charlie.

I sobbed.

He stepped towards me, but the man behind me gave a warning noise. And Charlie stopped and looked at him.

Jennifer, make this stop.

What do you mean? Can’t you see I’m clearly not in control here!

Jen, you are in control here. Take a good look around, baby.

I took a couple of deep breaths and tried to stop crying. I blinked the tears out of my eyes and began to look more closely at the room. What I had thought were stone walls actually was a plastic tarp painted to look like stones. Hastily done, and not very convincing. Some of it was falling off the wooden pegs it had been nailed to, allowing light to come through. My eyes fell on the little girl. Her hair was messy and unkept. Her bow dirty and sloppily tied. She had tear stains down her face. Her shirt untucked and dirty. Her socks torn and shoes scuffed. I looked at her face, and realized I recognized her. Yes, I knew this girl very well. She was me. I cried.

Let me go! I demanded. The big hands released me and my legs fell to the floor. I stood, looking up at my suspended arms. They were tied together by flimsy rope. I lowered my arms and easily slid my wrists out from the restraints.  I turned around to face the big man, who in fact was not so big. We were nose to nose. I reached up and removed his mask. I gasped. Was this a trick? Underneath the mask there was no man. It was a woman. Her hair was pulled back into a tight pony tail. She had olive skin, and big brown eyes. Her full lips were painted red and she smelled like sweet perfume. My perfume. It was me. I backed away, gaping. Looking from the little girl to the woman in the leather pants with the whip. What the hell was going on here? I felt like I was going to faint. Charlie grabbed me from behind and held me. My legs buckled under me and we fell to the ground. He wrapped his arms around me and I buried my face in his shoulder. I sobbed. I cried so hard. He rocked me back and forth and rubbed my hair. I felt his hand go to my back and he caressed my scars. I didn’t understand. What was this place? I had done this all? How? Why? God, why?

Jennifer, we’re going to get you the help you need okay?
Charlie, I don’t understand…what the fuck is going on here? Where are we?
Jen, we’re in your dream….
My dream?!
Yes baby.
How are you here?
I always come and pull you out of these dreams, Jen.
Yes, baby. Always.
But how?
Because you’re my soul mate, Jen. I love you more than anything. And I will always be here.

But how, Charlie? How?
We have a connection, Jen. When you need me most I know it. I can’t explain how I am able to be in your mind like this. But I’ve saved you from yourself many times.

From myself…..?

Charlie looked around the demented fake dungeon room. He sighed heavily and looked back down at me.

Yes, Jen. You created all this.


That I can’t answer. You punish yourself almost every night. You’ve put yourself through some sick things, Jen. I thought you were getting better. But this…

He looked around again, then met my eyes.

I love you. You know that. You do not deserve this, do you hear me? You don’t. You are not a bad person. I know you better than anyone on this planet. I love you.

He pulled me into him and held me tightly. I couldn’t pull away, but I wanted to. His big arms wrapped around me, forcing me to be surrounded with this man’s love. I wanted to shove him off of me, I wanted to curl up and dissolve into this atmosphere. This ugly, dark room. I didn’t feel deserving of the warmth I was feeling. But instead I began to dissolve into him. I could feel my icy heart melting. I felt tingly and warm. I cried. But they were soft tears. Slowly falling down my face and onto his chest. He never let me go…….He will never let me go……..


I opened my eyes to the blaring alarm going off on my night stand. Ugh. I reach over and switch it off. The sun is shining through the pale white curtains, painting my walls gold. The bed is so warm and my fluffy white comforter smells clean as I take a deep breath in. I reach up to stretch and feel his heavy arm wrapped around my waist. I turn over and look into his face. He looks so much like a child when he sleeps. I blow onto his eyelashes softly. His eyes open and those clear blue eyes look into me. . He smiles and pulls me closer. I giggle and pretend to try and resist, but I love being in his arms. It’s where I feel most at home.

How did you sleep babe?

Pretty good, you?

I think I slept pretty well. But I feel like I had a bizarre dream! I just can’t remember it. That is so frustrating! I wish I could just remember one dream instead of always feeling like I’m missing out on something interesting.

Well, how about I make breakfast and we’ll try and see if we can jog your memory? Charlie kisses my cheek and throws the comforter off of us. I jump up and follow him down the hall. I suddenly had an overwhelming feeling of love and devotion to this man. It was like a wave crashing on my heart. He turned and looked at me as I stood staring blankly in the hallway.

You okay?

I looked up and met those crystal blue eyes.

Yes, I think I am.

I smile and run to him and he opens his arms as I fall into him. I bury my face into his neck and breathe in and close my eyes. I get the feeling of déjà vu.

Charlie, what would I do without you?

You’ll never have to find out, baby. I promise you that.

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Think About It...

All human beings are also dream beings. Dreaming ties all mankind together. - Jack Kerouac

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

From The Fire She Rises

She picked up an apple and watched it rot and decay in her hands. She sighed and tossed it on the ground. She was so bored. She walked across her chamber to the vanity.  She sat down and looked into the mirror. Nothing new there. She was stunning. Perfect. Easily the most beautiful woman there ever was. She was as beautiful in Death as she was in Life. She was as bored as she had been when she was alive too.

“How long have I been here?” she thought to herself. “Too long,” she laughed.

She didn’t remember too much about her Life anymore. She couldn’t even remember how she died. She just knew that she hadn’t been a very good person in Life, because otherwise she wouldn’t be here.

She looked around her chamber. The walls were high and plain. No paintings or decorations on them. There was the vanity she was sitting at, a dresser (which had nothing in it), and a bed. She glanced side ways at the dresser. One of His biggest jokes was to give her things to remind her of what she didn’t have. She wasn’t allowed to wear clothes, she was completely naked. She didn’t even remember what it was like not to be naked. He also always made sure there was a pitcher of water, and a bowl of fresh fruit. Not that it mattered. She had been hungry and thirsty for hundreds of years now. Anytime she picked up the fruit it would rot in her hand, and the pitcher always seemed to be empty when she would attempt to pour a glass.

All of those things used to bother her. She would cry and plea to God to take her out of this place. She would repent and pray and pledge herself to God.

She laughed again. “What a fool I was,” she said out loud.

She got up from the vanity and walked to the one window in her room. She looked down below. She was in a tower, how high she never could figure out. Her view was lovely. Mountains, a  sky, trees and flowers. She could just see a peek of water from the other side of the mountains. A lake perhaps. The sun shined, and the birds chirped and everything seemed so picturesque and perfect out there.

But she knew better. Probably fake. Another one of His clever tricks to make me long for something I can’t have. He had so many of those tricks.

In Life, she remembered using her looks and men’s lust to get what she desired. She had slept with plenty of men, but she never enjoyed sex. Ever. She loathed it really. Men made her skin crawl. She thought them all pathetic, and weak. To be able to be manipulated so easily baffled her. Women were much stronger in her mind. But men were necessary. For whatever reason Eve let Adam take the reigns of the World. So women always came second. And could do nothing with a man. She did only what was necessary to survive. She didn’t feel bad about it, though she knew she probably should. She’d figured that was why she was here. No remorse for the broken hearts, and promises. 
As soon as she arrived He put her in this room, where she sat for so long without any contact from anyone or anything. She just cried and hated herself and pleaded with someone anyone to help her. She cried over the dying fruit and the dry pitcher. She cried over her naked body, and the beautiful view. She cried because of the stale air in her chamber, and the loneliness. She thought she would die, again, from her misery. But that’s just wishful thinking she discovered. She would never die, or escape her prison. This was Hell, after all.

She stayed in that room for so long by herself, until she finally stopped crying. She became numb. She spent her day’s staring at the walls, and her sleepless nights she stared out the window. There was no sleep here either. When she gave in and became numb, that’s when He started coming.

The first time was in the middle of the day. The sun was shining through her window, and she sat on the chair of her vanity blankly staring at the bowl of delicious looking fruit. Suddenly she got very hot, and her whole body started to sweat profusely. Her hair clung to the back of her neck, and she panted trying to get air. Her mouth dry. She stood up and looked around her room. Nothing had changed. The window was still open, her bed still there, the fruit, the water, the blank walls, the sealed door with no knob seemed to remain sealed. She was confused. She went to the window and tried to get a gulp of fresh air. But nothing. She stopped and realized she couldn’t hear the birds chirping anymore. It was as if someone had shut off all the noise in the world. She wrapped a slender hand around her throat, still gasping for fresh air. She turned around  and faced her bed. Maybe she should lie down? She started for the bed, when suddenly something grabbed her by the back of her hair, she went to let out a scream but something unseen covered her mouth and quieted her. She could feel something grab her around her waist and lift her in the air. Her eyes darted to the vanity, in the mirror she seen herself floating in the air. Her naked body suspended in the air, but that was all she seen in the mirror. Suddenly she was flung onto the bed, she landed on her stomach and the air was knocked out of her. No time for air, she tried to scramble to get away from whatever  was in the room with her. But it grabbed her ankles and pulled her back. She grabbed the blanket, but it just followed her as she was pulled. She tried to flip over onto her back to face the invisible attacker, but it shoved her face down on the bed. She couldn’t lift her head and she grunted and whined. She was so afraid. She could feel the thing touching her body. Caressing her sweat soaked hair, moving down to her damp neck, and tracing it’s way down her spine all the way to her buttocks. It gripped one cheek and grasped it hard. She inhaled sharply.  It grabbed her hips and forced her to her knees. She was now kneeling on all fours on her bed, she could still see her reflection in the mirror. She looked pathetic, and helpless. She knew this scene all too well. Though she may not know who was committing the act, she knew this was rape.

She began to whimper and cry, not able to tear her eyes from her reflection. She watched as her body began to jerk as it entered her. She let out a cry of pain. It did not hesitate. It continued to pound into her body.  It dug into her sides as it gripped her tightly, continuing to thrust into her. Harder and harder. Faster. In the mirror she looked as if she were having seizures, shaking so violently back and forth. She cried out. Loud and angry. But it didn’t care. Suddenly with one final thrust, it stopped. She didn’t move from her position she opened her eyes and looked around her room. The air was thinner now. Breathable again. She let out a breath, then breathed in, and before she knew it she was panting. She couldn’t find her breath. She was having a panic attack. She fell onto her side and hugged her knees to her chest. She sobbed and her body shook. Oh her body hurt so bad.

Later when she gained composure, and calmed down. She went to her vanity and lifted her leg onto the surface. She inspected her vagina. It was raw, and bloody. She touched it tenderly, and winced in pain. She laid in her bed for days on end, waiting until the bruises went away, and she could walk again without the pain. She just sat there and thought and replayed the whole thing in her mind. What had that been? Will it happen again?

Some time went by, and she healed. For a while she would sit in suspense, just waiting for it to come back. She was very conscious of the air. She wanted to be ready when it got hot and unbearable again. She knew that would be the sign it was happening. But it never did.

She just went on with her normal routine. Walls, window. Walls, window. Walls, window. She almost completely forgot about the whole thing.

Then one night as she lay there looking out the window, the air got thick, and hot. She snapped out of her daze and sat up in bed. She pressed her back to the wall and pulled her knee’s to her chest. As her hair began to get wet, and her forehead had beads of sweat, she had a thought. She was pretty sure it would come and do the same thing again. She would probably have less injury if she fought less.

She was petrified, but she convinced herself to lie flat on the bed with her arms and legs spread.  She lay there panting, partially out of fear, and partly because of that damned air. She had another thought, and quickly brought her hand to her mouth and spit in it and then rubbed it down there. Just as she did that she felt the weight on her. It bowed the bed, and hovered over her. She could feel the hot breath, and feel it leaning against her pelvis. It crushed her. She didn’t move. She lay there panting and staring up at the ceiling. She wasn’t going to give it the satisfaction of her crying this time. It waited for a long time, and she started to think maybe nothing was going to happen. Then suddenly she felt it penetrate her. She cried, but she clenched her teeth and prepared herself for the next thrust. And it came just as hard as the first. It kept on and she turned her head to the side and suffered through it. Every last thrust, every hot breath on her face. Even though she had tried to lubricate, she could feel it starting to become raw again. She looked up at where the invisible rapist would be and wondered…..

She slowly moved her hand down and began to touch herself as it continued to pummel into her. She closed her eyes and tried to let herself feel the pleasure. She just kept rubbing and rubbing and finally there it was. Pleasure. She hadn’t felt it in so long. She let out a small moan, and suddenly the thrusting stopped. Her eyes snapped open just in time to feel the hard slap on her cheek. She cried out. The pain shot through her. Her hand flew up to hold her throbbing jaw. A tight grip wrapped around her neck and lifted her up against the wall. She tried to grab the invisible fist holding her, but it was too strong. She opened her mouth but could not get any air.  It pushed itself inside of her again, and fucked her hard against the wall. She let her eyes roll up and stared at the ceiling. She couldn’t breathe, surely she would suffocate. But she never did. Her lungs ached and screamed for air, but no release came. Neither of life or death. She just stayed in that terrible state for what seemed like forever as it pounded into her. It hurt so bad. It stretched her out, and ripped her insides. But it was relentless. It flipped her around so her face was squeezed against the wall. Finally she took a breath, but it wasn’t over yet. It had her by a fist full of hair and it kept her head tight against the wall. The wall scratched her face every time her body jolted up then back down as it continued to fuck her from behind. She cried every time it did. Then suddenly, it stopped.

Her body crumpled onto the bed, and the air became thin again. She cried and coughed and cried some more. She grabbed her throat and tried to massage it. It ached, but not as much as her vagina. She looked down and seen the drops of blood falling onto her mattress. She cried all night.

After that night it came every night. She stopped fighting, but it never stopped hurting. It got more and more violent and greedy. Her body was just a pleasure tool. There was no human there, no emotion or feeling. She was merely an object. She realized this was happening because she hated sex so much. She knew this was her punishment for using it as a tool in Life.

Years went on and she never got used to it. There was no ability to go numb to this. Every time was like the first time. Painful, terrifying, humiliating, and violent.

She layed back on her bed and tucked her hands behind her head. She smiled to herself, thinking back to those times used to be so depressing. Now she laughed. She had won. She thought of all His other whores who had gone through the same thing. Who were still going through it. They were weak. She didn’t pity them at all.

“Women will always be the most powerful. Men will always be victim to their carnal lust. And as long as women remember that, we have them by the balls,” she thought.

She thought back to the moment when she realized that. It was another night of rape for her, she was on her knee’s on the floor. The invisible attacker had her by a grip of hair on the back of her head and was fucking her mouth. She was gagging and crying and couldn’t breathe. Suddenly, a lightning bolt cracked in her mind. An epiphany. In Life she had used it as a tool, why couldn’t she in Death?
She looked up at her invisible lover, and started to move her own head. She began to push it deeper into her mouth, and started moaning and licking and sucking. Thrusting and thrusting the big, unseen dick in her mouth. Her neck ached and her jaw felt like it would break, but she kept going. She looked up with a seductive stare at her attacker. And she felt the grip loosen slightly on the back of her head. She had caught it by surprise! She didn’t stop. She kept going and going. Moaning. Sucking. Licking. Moaning. Sucking. Licking.

Finally it pushed her back hard, and she slid across the floor and her back hit the door. She looked up and waited for something, but it never happened. The air thinned, and her body began to cool down. She reached up and rubbed her jaw and began to laugh hysterically. She won!

After that night she kept up the act. She acted like she loved it, she NEEDED it even. And it seemed to like it right back. Eventually she learned that it was Him who was visiting her. And He came every night. She eventually began to look at it like a challenge. Her goal was to shock, and surprise Him. She began to try new things. Daring things.

She even began to enjoy it herself.

“Hell isn’t so bad,” she said to herself. Suddenly, the air got thick and hot. She smiled sweetly, as she felt her body moisten and become excited. “Hello, dear….”

Think About It...

“Dreaming permits each and every one of us to be quietly and safely insane every night.” -Charles Fisher

Magical: Part 1

 His eyes shot open. The alarm clock was screaming in his face. Groggily he swings his hand out and slams it down on the SNOOZE button. He rolls over onto his back and stares at the ceiling.

Day 370…he thinks to himself. I love you, Samantha.

He gets out of bed, takes a shower, starts the coffee pot, gets dressed, does his hair, pours a cup of coffee and fills up his thermos, brushes his teeth and he’s out the door. Same routine every day for the past 370 days.

Goes to work, another grueling 13 hour day. He originally got the job because of how much money he made doing it, now he could care less. His bank accounts just kept accumulating money. He didn’t spend money on anything other than bills and necessities. Money just no longer interested him like it once had. In fact, none of his old interests seemed that important anymore. He only stayed at the job now for the sake of routine. It kept him going, his routines.

After work, he pulled up to his apartment and parked. He got out, locked the car doors, and pulling on his jacket he headed for the park. It was late, and he’d heard on the news of the recent crimes being committed at the park. Probably just a bunch of punk kids, but they still warned people to stay out of the park after dark just in case. He didn’t care. For 370 day’s this is what he did at the end of every day.

He kept on the path for some ways, counting the cracks in the side walk as he stepped over them. He didn’t see or hear anyone in the park. He never really did though. The late night runner, sometimes a kid walking listening to music, but the worst is when he’d pass the couples. They always seemed so happy, holding hands, bodies close, smiling and laughing. He always just kept his eyes to the ground and hurried past them. It was like a knife in the gut for him. 

He let himself drift into a memory of her for a moment. They were walking on this same path, it was Fall. It was a late after noon, the leaves were just changing colors. He remembers it being really beautiful. It was their day off together, and normally he would spend most of the day glued to the television, but she had nagged him to go for a walk with her that day. He grumpily agreed, but secretly he’d really enjoyed being outside with her. He remembers she had thrown on a pair of jeans and boots, and her winter coat was buttoned all the way up. Her hair naturally fell in curls down her back, and her white scarf contrasted beautifully against her dark hair. She forced her arm around him back, making him put his up and over her shoulders. She giggled. God, he can still hear that giggle. She looked up at him and smiled. Her eyes dancing in the sun. He looked down at her and smiled back, laughing.  No matter how hard he tried, he could never really be mad her. They walked all day. Sometimes not talking, other times they stopped and sat at a bench having serious talks, and then the rest of the time they just playfully picked on each other. Giggling and bickering. It was one of his favorite memories with her.

Stop, he said to himself. He had to keep his mind in check. It so easily betrayed him when it came to her. For the first 124 days all he could do was think about her. He didn’t function. He barely wanted to live. She was his obsession. His family worried about him, friend’s checked on him, work gave him time to get back on his feet. But nothing mattered. Just her.

He cut off the sidewalk and stepped onto the grass. The wind was against him, and bit at his face. He pulled his coat around him a little tighter.  He was heading to their spot. He’d never found somebody else here, he wasn’t even sure anyone else knew about it. Which suited him just fine. It was theirs.

You had to pass some bushes, and once you stepped into the tree line, no one could even see you. It was still farther in, and he had to watch his footing. There weren’t any street lights here.

Finally he reached their spot. It wasn’t anything special. When the tree’s started thinning out, the ground sloped up into this hill. There was a steep drop on the other side, but if you lay on the hill on a clear night, you would never be able to tell you were in a city. They had found it by accident one night, and had only ever been here a few times since. But they called it their spot. And it’s where they went to be completely alone with each other.

This was the last place he’d seen her…

He stepped onto the hill and walked to the top. He sat down and pulled his knee’s closer to his chest. He lay his arms out over top his knees and just sat there. Every night he did this. For 370 days, he came here waiting. For what, he wasn’t sure. But there had to be a clue. A sign. Where had she gone?

He looked up at the sky. Over cast. The only thing he could see was the faded light of the moon hiding behind a cloud. The pieces of sky he could see were deep purple. If she were here she would say it felt mysterious and magical tonight. He smirked, she always said the most ridiculous things. She was the perfect combination of a woman and a child. He’d never noticed that until after.

In fact, there were a lot of things he never noticed. He never noticed that she tucked and hid little notes all over the apartment for him to find. He never noticed that she always cleaned up after him. He never realized how she was the one that kept him alive. Every little thing she did had been a reason for him to breathe. And he didn’t know it until she were gone. Now he kept breathing in hopes she would come back.

There was a part of him that thought ….. no. He wouldn’t even think it. She was alive still. She had to be. She had to be.

She had been so sad, and no one really knew why. She’d tried talking about to him, and he pretended to understand. Say all the right things. Be supportive. But in reality he had no idea. He didn’t get what she was talking about. He always just thought she was so complicated, and emotional. She would get over it. She always got over it. She was constantly changing. Which annoyed him beyond belief. Now he looked back and was in awe of her. She was so magical. He’d put a lot of thought into that word. Magical. He tried to best describe her, and he couldn’t think of a better word.  One minute she was this sophisticated, sarcastic person. Laughing and arguing, or talking about something going on in the world. Oh the conversations we had. He laughed out loud just thinking of some of the debates. Then the next minute, she was wearing sweats and one of his T-shirts, playing video games or watching Animal House with him. Laughing and joking and eating junk food. There were day’s when she would stand in front of the window, staring into space. She looked so sad. He would always try and come up behind her and kiss her and wrap his arms around her. But that seemed to just irritate her, and she’d shut herself in the room. Then the next day she would be giggling and playing on the floor with the dog, like nothing had even happened. She was the most diverse human he’d ever known. He’d considered Bi-polar. But probably not. There always seemed to be a reason for her moods. And when she got in the right mood, she would lock eyes with him from across the room. And he could swear he could feel her hot breath against his lips. She would walk to him, never breaking their gaze, and just stand there and look into both of his eyes. He felt so weightless when she looked at him like that. Then she would lean in and slowly close her eyes and kiss him. And it was like dreaming. He would sometimes even get light headed from how stimulating it was for him when she did that. Of course, he never told her that. Though he wished he had now.

He never found out why she had been so sad all the time back then. He just started to ignore it when it didn’t go away. He just figured it would pass like it always did. But it didn’t. It went on for a few months. But he didn’t know how to help her, so he just kept the routine of their lives going. He thought it would help. For her to see life would keep going. She quit her job and stayed home. She lost weight. Stayed up all night. Slept all day. They started fighting a lot, but there never seemed to be an answer to their problems.

He just didn’t know what the problem was.

Why didn’t you ask her? He scolded himself. Why didn’t you get her help? Why didn’t you just pick her up and kiss her and tell her you love her? Why didn’t you do more….

These trips to their spot had turned into guilt trips. He beat himself up every night. The last day he seen her, she had written him a letter and stuck it in his brief case.

“I’m sorry. I love you. Meet me at Our spot tonight at 7”

It was the first time in months she had reached out to him at all. He remembered being so excited, then being angry. She knew he worked late that night. It was always about her, and her needs. What about him? He was doing the best he could, and she had to be difficult and make him go to the park at night just because she said so.

You were such an idiot! He thought. What was the big fucking deal? She needed you. You could’ve made it happen. Fuck everything else.

But that night work had told him he couldn’t leave early. So he didn’t. He tried calling but she never answered. When he got to the apartment that night, there were no lights on. He went and checked and she was not there. She wouldn’t still be at the park at this hour? He tried calling her a few more times, and after she didn’t answer again, he put his jacket on and headed for the park.

He remembered being so angry as he walked to their spot that night. He was ready to yell at her as soon as he saw her. She was foolish for still being here. So dramatic for not answering her phone. What was she thinking?

But as he walked into the clearing of their Spot, he forgot how angry he was. There she was standing at the top of the hill facing the edge. She was looking up at the moon. The sky was so clear and brilliant that night. The moon was full and seemed so close. It flooded their spot with light, and everything was so clear. Her skin glowed with the moon’s softness. Her hair flowing down her back and blowing in the breeze. She was wearing her purple dress that he loved. It fluttered softly around her ankles. He was speechless. His heart stopped. He had known right away that this was a moment he would never forget. She turned and looked at him. She didn’t seem surprised that he was standing there. She didn’t seem angry that he was so late. The only emotion she was showing was sadness. A sadness he had never known before. Tears rolled down her cheeks and fell of her chin. He was frozen, couldn’t move. But he would give anything to go back and run to her at that moment. Grab her and just hold her. Let her cry if she needed to, or say what she needed to say. Anything. Anything at all.

He hung his head and cried. Every night he cried. He cried hard. He sat on the hill, in their spot, and he looked at the sky and he cried. He wondered what the last thing she thought was? What had she thought of when she sat in their spot alone for so long before he showed up? Would it have played out differently had he shown up on time? If only he could’ve been in her mind.

That look in her eyes…. It haunted him. It was so deep, and desperate. When she turned and looked at him that night, it was a cry for help. He knew that now. He knew that then, too. But he didn’t do anything. He didn’t know how long she had looked at him, before she turned her body to face his direction. For a moment he remembered thinking she was going to start walking towards him. Until she lifted her arms out from her sides, straight out into the air. As if she were going to take off flying. She kept eye contact with him, and the tears kept rolling down her lovely face. Her mouth partially open, and he heard her whimper. As soon as he’d heard her make that noise, that awful noise, he snapped out of it. He ran to her. But it was too late. She let herself fall backwards. He remembered the way her dress wrapped around her body, and her hair around her face as her body started to fall down the edge. He swears she kept eye contact with him until she fell out of view. He ran to the edge as fast as he could, if he could just get there in time to grab her. His heart was pounding in his chest, he couldn’t feel anything. This couldn’t be happening….

He looked up at that moon, as the tears streamed down his face. He wished he could just see it, instead of the glow behind the clouds. It was just a reminder that it was there, just not in sight. He looked towards the edge of the hill. He had stared at so many times. For so many hours. He’d fallen asleep here countless times. And never any answers. He got up and walked towards the edge and looked down.  It was a steep drop. Rocks lay at the bottom, jagged and ugly. He always forced himself to look down. As if one day he’ll see her body.  As if one day, he’ll finally know what really happened that night…..

His heart pounded in his ears as he ran towards the edge, maybe she’ll be there just within reach. If he just hurried, ran faster…. But he came and he halted abruptly, sliding towards the edge. Stopping himself just in time, he looked down. Out of breath, heart still pounding he looked down. Eyes desperately scanning the rocks at the bottom, but nothing. No body. No beautiful dark hair, no purple dress…she was gone. He dropped to his knees, hands gripping the edge of the drop, he kept looking, and panting. She had to be there. He just watched her fall over the edge.

“SAMANTHA!” he screamed into the night.

The moon illuminated the valley below. Still no trace of her. He got up and whipped around, searching the clearing, the tree’s. Had she somehow managed to get back up. He ran around looking behind tree’s, grabbing bushes and clumsily parting them, searching every little space. She had to be here. Where was she? How?



He dropped to the ground and sobbed. What the fuck had just happened? Was he losing his mind?

No, he’d thought to himself, no. I am a logical man. I know what I just saw. But where was she now? Help. I need help.

He reached into his jacket and hastily pulled out his phone, he dialed 911.

After that it had been nothing but reports, and pats on the shoulder, flash lights and search parties. Blankets and coffee. Phone call’s from family and friends. Dealing with her family had been especially delightful. He had always wondered how a person like her had come from a family like that. They were self absorbed, manipulative, and childish. They constantly pulled and ripped at her. Tearing her down, building her up, playing on her sweet heart. He hated them. He never told her that, because no matter they did she always remained loyal and loving to them. They were just so utterly different, another piece of her that could never be explained.

Of course they blamed him for the whole thing. He even heard rumors that they were trying to say he killed her. He was so numb and empty at the time that he didn’t even care. Now as he stood at the edge and looked down into the valley that had swallowed her, he thought to himself…did he kill her?

He swallowed down a sob, but the tears kept coming. Time heals all, right? When would time heal this? Heal her? Find her? Find something? That’s what ate at him the most. Where had she gone? Where was her body? He couldn’t even really begin to focus on the thought of her being dead because there was no evidence that she was. Even when she was gone she baffled him. He laughed. He knew she would be pleased.

He turned around and looked around the clearing. A part of him always expected to see her peering from behind one of the trees, in that purple dress and her long hair falling over her shoulders, a big smile on her face. “I got you good!” she would say. And he would run to her and pick her up and wrap her in his arms and poke her sides and tickle her until her fits of laughter were too much and she crumpled to the ground. “Don’t you ever do that again you psycho,” he would tease as he kept tickling her.

You’re torturing yourself, he told himself. Stop it.

One final look over the edge, then he stuffed his hands in his pockets, gave out a long sigh and turned to take the lonely walk back home. He stepped off the hill and onto the dry grass. He reached the trees and a bitter, cold wind hit him in the face suddenly. He shuddered. Had it been windy this whole time? He had actually thought it kind of warm when he was on the hill. The wind picked up speed and he leaned forward against it. He was among the trees now, but they offered no shelter from the wind.


He stopped dead in his tracks. Was he imagining that? He waited. The wind was howling in his ears, and the cold was creeping into his bones, he desperately wanted to get out of this weather. But he waited. Because it almost sounded like someone said..


There it was again! He hadn’t imagined it. He looked around him, it was difficult to see through the tree’s, especially with this wind blowing into his face. His eyes were watering now, but he kept looking. He turned around and faced the clearing. Was there somebody in there? Surely, he would’ve noticed them before.

“Come back.”

It was a faint voice, or at least it sounded that way in combination with the wind. But there was something eerily familiar about it. Then it struck him. He knew that voice. He’d heard it a thousand times before. He’d heard that voice yell, and cry, and laugh, and sing. He knew that voice. It was her. She was there. His face fell. Damn this wind. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t cold at all anymore. He ran back to the clearing, the wind roaring at his back, pushing him there the whole way.

It’s her, it’s her, it’s her, my God it’s her…

His head was pounding, and his heart beat against his ribs. The branches of the trees whipped at his body and he stumbled on a rock but found his footing and kept on. He broke through into the clearing and stopped dead.

His eyes, was this real? She stood at the top of the hill, her dark hair even longer than he had last seen it, swaying gently in the wind. Her skin seemed to glow, her eyes bright and beautiful. She was wearing a soft green gown and it fell at her bare feet. The expression on her face wasn’t recognizable. Relief? Sadness? She looked the same, and yet so different. He couldn’t put his finger on it.

His leg’s gave out beneath him and he fell to his knee’s. His hand’s shaking.

“It’s you….”

“Yes it is,” her voice washed over him . He closed his eyes and breathed it in. Her scent surrounded him and embraced his body. Sweet and deep. She smelled so good. He opened his eyes, half expecting it to have been a delusion. But there she stood still. Statuesque and beautiful.

He hadn’t noticed that she wasn’t alone. There standing beside her was a child. A fistful of her skirt in one hand, the other hand in his little mouth. He couldn’t have been older than two. His dark hair shaggy and sweeping the tops of his eyes. Those eyes…. They were crystal blue. The boy was peering right into his soul it seemed.

She followed his gaze to the boy. The boy looked up at her and she smiled sweetly down to him, petting his hair. She bent down and kissed the boy’s cheek.

“Do you know who that is?” she asked pointing to the man kneeling on the grass.

The boy shook his head no. She smiled again. She leaned in and whispered something into the boy’s ear. His face didn’t change, giving no hints as to what was she told him.

He remained kneeling on the grass, but he had regained feeling in his body. His mind was still nowhere to be found, however. He was as confused as ever.

Where had she been? Was this real? Had he finally lost his mind? Who was the boy?

She stood back up and grabbed the boy’s hand. She began to walk towards him.

This is real, he thought. This is definitely real.

She stopped in front of him and kneeled down. They were face to face now. For the first time in 370 days he looked back into her beautiful face, and seen her looking into his. He could count the eyelashes framing those deep hazel eyes. He could reach out and touch her full beautiful lips. He could caress her soft hair, and wrap his arms around her body. He could feel her heat on him. Her scent was even stronger now. It smelled like…summer. Flowers, and rain, and lemonade and camp fires.

That didn’t make any sense, he laughed out loud. And she smiled back at him.

“What?” she asked him, her eyes searching his. She looked concerned, but the smile on her face was warm.

“I…I just can’t believe…It’s you…” he laughed again, and he couldn’t help but reach out and touch her hair and he let his hand linger on the side of her face. She closed her eyes and leaned into it.

“Yes, it is me,” she whispered.

“And me!” the little boy chimed in. Her eyes opened, as if she’d forgotten where she was for a moment. She turned to the boy and pulled him closer to her and looked up.

“This is Max.”

He looked from her hazel eyes, to the boy’s piercing blue eyes. Now that the boy was closer, he got a better look at him. The dark hair was wavy and thick, and made his eyes that much more shocking. His thick lashes framing his eyes. His skin the same beautiful color as hers. He was beautiful.

It hit him like a ton of bricks…..

“Max……” he repeated.

He remembered a time when they had thought she might be pregnant. They were so excited. After work they would come home and cuddle and talk about the plan’s they had for the baby.

“Well, if it’s a girl I want her name to be Celeste,” she said matter-of-factly, lying in his lap on the couch.

“No, I don’t like it,” he said, smirking.

“What? That’s a beautiful name!” she looked up at him giggling.

“Well, it doesn’t really matter. Because his name is going to be Max,” he looked down at her with a big sheepish grin.

“Oh, you’re so sure it’s a boy?”


They laughed and teased each other more that night. A few weeks later she had a miscarriage, and they never talked about it again. It was hard for both of them.

“Max..” he repeated

She looked at him, he knew she could see the pieces fitting together in his mind.

“He’s your son…”

…………………………………..TO BE CONTINUED

Monday, February 11, 2013

Ring Around the Rosie

It was a meadow. The grass was thick, deep green, and soft to the touch. The tree’s were tall, and guarded a small pond. Branches swayed in the soft breeze. The air smelled sweet. The light pushed it’s way through the trees and danced over top the pond, and made it sparkle. It was quiet here. Except for the wind singing sweetly. It was the kind of place you could sit, and swear you were the last person on Earth.

Suddenly, laughter came cutting through the air. A little girl’s giggle; bubbly, and happy. She came bouncing up to the pond, her little feet bare and dirty. Her white dress somehow not dirty at all. Her pale skin seemed to glow as she peered at her reflection in the small pond. She got on her knee’s to get a closer look. Little tendrils of her dark hair fell forward and lightly touched the water. She giggled. She reached her tiny hand out for her mirrored image, a small mysterious smirk on her angelic face. She moved so slowly, it was as if you were witnessing a moment captured in time. A beautiful painting. Then suddenly she slammed her hand into the water violently and splashed and squealed. The noise and the movement did not belong in this place; this quiet, peaceful place. She giggled again as she stood up and looked around her. She slowly scanned her surroundings, almost like she were looking for something. She sighed, as if she were bored, or disappointed. She began to walk around the pond, humming to herself, carefully placing one foot in front of the other.  She stopped and looked at the pond again. There was that smirk again. As if she knew the punch line of some untold joke.

She started for the pond, not walking as slowly this time. It was steady, and purposeful. Her tiny feet hit the water and she hesitated. The water was probably cool, and fresh. She closed her eyes and breathed in. Another smirk. She continued to walk into the pond. Farther and farther. The water was above her knees now. Her precious white dress soaked and clinging to her thighs. She kept on. The expression on her face was so serious, as if she were making a difficult decision, as the water hit her waist. But she did not hesitate as the water got higher and higher on her small body. As the water got to her shoulders, she stopped. She looked down at her reflection again. The only thing visible was her face. And she stared down at her reflection in a daring way. Her soft brown eyes were full of fire, it was so out of place in that child’s face. Whose eyes were they? Slowly she began to raise her gaze up, soaking in everything in that moment. The water, the light, the trees, the dust dancing in the rays of sun, the chirping of the crickets, that soft breeze making her dark hair tickle her face. As she looked up at the sky, her face pulled up as high as it would go, her hair falling back into the water, her neck pulled tight, her eyes seemed to lock onto something. She held her gaze for moments, an eternity.

“I hate you,” she whispered, there was that smirk again.

She flung her head into the water. Her body was completely submerged. She swam underneath the water, touching the slippery plants that grew underneath the water. Grabbing a handful of the mud. Looking at the pond from the meadow, the surface was like glass, and everything was back to it’s peaceful self. You would never guess that there was a little girl swimming around underneath.

How long had she been down there? Suddenly the quiet was broken again by splashing, and thrashing from the pond. Her body was jolting and jerking, like she was having seizures. But her head remained underneath the water. Her hands and feet splashing and flailing. If she would just come up, she would be okay. Why won’t she come up for air? Suddenly, the water stilled. Bubbles rose to the surface, and then all was quiet. The meadow was no longer peaceful, there was a dark, dangerous feel to this meadow now.

Her small body rose to the surface, face down. Her white dress floating all around her. Her dark hair reached out into the water, moving in the water as if it had a life of it’s own.

Minutes went by….

Minutes turned into an hour. Her body had floated closer to the edge of the pond. Everything about that once beautiful pond, now seemed tainted. As if it were just a part of an ugly picture now. It’s life was taken from it, and now it was just a surrounding for her life. Her death.

Her little hand brushed against the dirt surrounding the pond.

Her body bent forward, and now she was sitting on her knees. Her torso rose up so that the top half of her body was not in the water any longer. Her arms hung at her sides, and her hands were still in the water holding herself up. Her hair fell in front of her face like a long black curtain. She reached up and parted her hair to see. Her lashes wet, and clumpy; her face splotchy and her lips a deep red against her pale skin. She used her hands to prop herself up onto her feet. She slowly stood up, and stepped out of the water. Her dress clung desperately to her body. She grabbed the hem and tried to ring it out. She shook her head back and forth like a wet dog, shooting water from her wet hair. She rubbed her arms to warm herself. She took a deep breath and let out a giggle. She looked up and smirked. That same mysterious smirk. She began to skip out of the meadow, singing “…ashes ashes…we all fall down..”