You Save Me

January 8, 2010
By SunshyneSky GOLD, Oakdale, California
SunshyneSky GOLD, Oakdale, California
10 articles 0 photos 6 comments

Favorite Quote:
Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being "in love" which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two."


The water, my last oasis, spurts uncontrollably from the showerhead, then slowly steadies to tranquil, subdued lines that create harsh pattering against the plastic floor, cold and uninviting. My trembling hands turn the knob completely to the left. There. Within seconds the bantam room, the last of which I hope to be in, fills with a moist, calming steam. As I undress, I shiver. A chill descends down the nape of my neck to the small of my back as I strip. Shortly, the hovering heat kisses my bare skin. My skin, evanescent and pale, kisses back. My feet tingle as I step into the water, scorching hot and waiting patiently. No need to shut the curtain, I stand exposed to the room, the walls, the last I will know. I close my eyes and allow my head to fall back. Oh, how I allow it to fall! So freely, just hoping that the bone holding my head, filled with fantasies of my approaching utopia, will snap, stab through my skin, my disgusting pale mask, tearing it. While letting the scalding water ease cautiously into the wound, backwards I wish to plunge, into a puddle of water and my fresh blood. But it doesn’t happen; I still have my head. Nothing comes easy. My hands, soft and plump, heighten and thrust into cups over my ears, altering the consistent pattering as the water showers over my head, down my face, dripping off the very tip of my nose. The water, my savior, is now a roll of thunder, a storm that beckons for me. The plug on the drain does exactly as I wish of it, allows the water to rise and overflow the tub. Ah! Something I can control. I can hardly hear the spilling and splashing of water onto the tile over the euphony of thunder. Up the water rises, blistering all skin it touches. The pores on my legs open, welcoming the scorning visitor. Ah, the burning! My hell sensation! Slowly up it rises, while each tick of time shortens my breaths. As the room, my burial, fills with water, my jaw slowly lowers. The streams of water, hierarch of my end, splash playfully on my trembling lip, feeling of a deep crimson. It fills my mouth, the water. My throat begins to spurt its last puffs of breath. My nose, hot and tickled, begins to run, and with every breath, short and stifled, I sniffle. Slowly the water rises. The wait begins to become insufferable. My naked body trembles as it waits impatiently for the water’s fevered embrace. The thundering seems to slow as the water levels at my waist. My arms grow tired and heated as the muscles tighten. My head I squeeze, attempting to release the ache that consumes me. The water at my belly button, then above my breasts. The water slows as it envelops my body. I’m leaving as I imagine I came. As the water inches up my neck, over my open mouth, reaching my nose just as I take my last, brief breath. The pressure is creeping swiftly. The grip on my chest, hot and burning, gets tighter with every cascading drop. The thunder gets louder, angrier. I push my eyes open, trying to view this new world I’ve created, but my eyes burn from the heat. My vision is blurred; I see nothing. As the water levels over my head, the thunder suddenly stops. The quiet frightens me. The stillness unbearable. My ears burst, straining for sound. My lungs, shoving outward from within, yearning for life, while sudden hands, strong and firm, begin to lift me at the waist. My feet, my useless feet! Lifeless and unable to hold me down any longer, I am lifted up and up as my chest explodes and I desire to scream! Scream at the moon one last time, ah the desire burns me! These hands bring me no satisfaction, relieve me none. My eyes now unable to shut and wince at the pain! Unable to see my new home! My body, now weak and blistered, submits. My tenseness fades as my body becomes limp. I don’t remember wanting this and I don’t remember losing all will and power to these hands! Confusion sets in. Gently, I am laid down, my blind eyes searching hopelessly.

Heaven?

Silence. My naked body grows cold. A hand, gentle and rough, caresses my face, tingling with pain at this slight touch, as I lay on the hard ground facing up. The hand lingers as my vision slowly returns. The hand’s partner rests lovingly on my heart. Both hands connected to arms, connected to a torso, naked like my own. I feel not ashamed. Atop the torso, a neck, kissed by the sun, and a head, with an intense face of devilish qualities and angelic eyes. Eyes I might have never seen again. My chest finally rises; filling suddenly with air, crisp and heavenly, then abruptly falls and releases a cool wind from my dry, scathing lips. Breath. The face familiar and, honestly, exactly what I expected. My heaven.

You save me.



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This article has 5 comments.


on Feb. 22 2010 at 6:59 pm
SmileyFace94 SILVER, Queens, New York
7 articles 0 photos 35 comments
this is such a unique piece! this is very good. you've got a way of writing, and i mean that in the best way possible! :)

on Feb. 9 2010 at 9:38 pm
have_a_heart GOLD, Jackson, New Jersey
15 articles 0 photos 53 comments

Favorite Quote:
Parting is all we know of heaven and all we need of hell.

the detail was remarkable. the story was as QuestionAuthority said mind-blowing. that really was an amazing piece of literature that deserves a page in the magazine.

on Feb. 9 2010 at 6:04 pm
Whoa. This piece of literature is so unique and absolutely mind-blowing. I kept reading faster and faster and faster as I read along until I found myself almost skipping lines to find out what comes next, but I'd go back and reread because I didn't want to miss a word! This is the epitome of good writing. You started off strong but slow, describing the water, making the reader wonder and want to read on: what is the significance of this shower, the reader wonders, what will happen? And as the narrator's goal becomes clear, the pace is quickened and quickened until the reader wants to explode with anticipation. It was excellently choreographed and the best work of yours that I've read, including all of your poems. My only suggestion is to maybe rephrase the lines "The wait begins to become insufferable. My naked body trembles as it waits impatiently for the water’s fevered embrace" so that you're not using the word "wait" again, which sounds redundant. Other than that, wonderful job. Definately magazine-worthy :)

on Feb. 9 2010 at 1:23 pm
LihuaEmily SILVER, North Kingstown, Rhode Island
7 articles 3 photos 199 comments

Favorite Quote:
"It is said that there's no such thing as a free lunch. But the universe is the ultimate free lunch." -Alan Guth

Fascinating. Vivid and fascinating.

twiwrite GOLD said...
on Feb. 8 2010 at 2:30 pm
twiwrite GOLD, Modesto, California
14 articles 0 photos 111 comments

Favorite Quote:
none :P

very discriptive language. i wasnt sure what was happening but very good.


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