Grey
Pulling into the driveway, a hooded figure rushed from the abandoned house, gun in hand and fangs glistening under the moonlight. Like a hooligan at first, his pace slowed when he noticed the blonde hair. “Is that you? It really is you, isn’t it?” He asked, then began bawling like a child being rescued. “Of everyone in the world, you are the only person I want to see right now. I thought you were in New Orleans...”
“Shhh,” Black Widow purred, enveloping Grey’s skeleton of a body. “I was in New Orleans, then in Key West, but now I’m here for you. It’s been years, but I’m finally here in person. It’s so cold, let’s go inside. Everything will be okay, because I’m here now.”
“I’m just so happy to see you,” Grey sniffled. “Of all the people in the world, you are the one I’ve missed the most. I am so sorry for fucking everything up with you. I never meant to hurt you.”
“Shh,” she attempted to hush his sobs. “I am right here, and I love you. I have always been here for you.”
Grey’s slit wrists
Written in February 2005
Smeared blood on the wall from where he slit his wrists leads to the refrigerator. A noose dangles just above a bloody hand print on the fridge. The door and sides are covered in hearts of purple marker, pleading for his lusty partner, how much he needs her. She wrote a reply and an arrow pointing to the dried blood, asking, “isn’t that cute?”
Tiny cups and used syringes clutter every crevasse of the home. Smashed dishes and piled litter signify the anger and lost hope. Evil, anger and despair are felt lingering throughout the air. Soon, he will have a child with his former girlfriend who cries at the sight of the home she once loved. Pregnant, she sifts the trash of the condemned home that had just been foreclosed.
Trying to remain calm, she cringes at the thought of telling her unborn child how daddy attempted suicide when he learned she was pregnant. Past laughter has been smashed, along with everything else.
Now daddy’s in jail with all of his friends, but he won’t be gone long. His girlfriend will bail him out, even though he held a gun to her head last week, because she needs a fix. They don’t care of her child, who things needles are toys; they wish her to be a doctor, taking care of them in age with all those legal medications. Too bad the child is cursed to follow her mother’s footsteps of early pregnancy and intoxicating habits to numb reality from setting in.
What will she think when she sees mommy naked so many years before, making out with girls and acting like a whore? Will she learn by example and long to do the same? Or will she be stronger and rebel by being tame? Learning past mistakes is much easier said than done, especially as a young girl, longing only to have fun. Maybe mommy will explain the cause behind her actions, striving to make it clear that it was not for satisfaction. Will she have the strength to detail the scenes of rape, how she held it all inside so grandma’s mouth would not gape? How can she tell that love never existed in her mind, that sex became only sex and the rest got left behind? Can mommy tell her daughter she was created out of need, how she settled for her daddy in exchange for a name on a deed? Mommy can only preach the past, hoping history does not repeat, praying her daughter has a life with a husband that does not beat. Stay strong, she’ll want to say. Don’t give yourself away. Have your own place to stay, and never need him to pay.
Return to Darkness
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