Black Tears

June 28, 2010
By Isseywiz SILVER, Melbourne, Other
Isseywiz SILVER, Melbourne, Other
5 articles 9 photos 1 comment

Favorite Quote:
I may be mad, but all the best of us are

I galloped towards the lonely looking paddock, crows flocking around it, circling something. The child must be alive, or at least the crows seem to think so.
“Jesus Christ!” I shrieked, wiping the sheen of sweat off my creased forehead. Never in my thirty-two years had I ever-laid eyes on such an awful image. I felt my blood run cold and my skin pale.
The woman’s’ refined face was caked in blood, teeth clenched over her tongue and her moss green eyes vacant. Her long curtains of auburn hair were fanned out around her head. Her deathlike beauty left me in awe.
The baby mumbled angrily in gibberish to herself, demanding my attention.
I cast a look of sympathy down at the baby, her tiny hands were reaching out to me desperately as if I were her lifeline.
I reached down and clutched her securely against my chest, suddenly protective. Her wide, stormy blue eyes looked grateful.
The baby was beautiful, her short auburn curls bounced around her round face as she nudged my chest impatiently, wanting to get away from the horrific sight of her mother.

It took me a good two hours to reach the small cottage I had rented in town. The baby had fallen into a deep sleep in my arms and was now snoring softly.
I dug into my pocket, rummaging for my key as the door burst open.
My wife, Julie, stood there, hands on her narrow hips, icy, blue eyes, blazing, her heart shaped face an unattractive shade of red with burning anger, a strange contrast to her silvery, blonde hair.
“Where the h*** have you been!” she barked, lighting a cigarette with shaking hands and irritably blowing smoke into my face.
She glared down at the small, blanketed body of the baby, she gasped in outrage. She needed no snappy pun to express the shock and hatred she immediately felt for the baby.
Julie never has thought of babies as delicate happy creatures, she’d always referred to them as pests. She seemed to be having a difficult time taking in that she was once a child; right now I could have mistaken her for one.
She struck my face, drawing her hand back as I grunted attempting to hide the pain.
Baby forced her tired eyes open, immediately they filled with hot tears as she started to wail. Her shriek filled my ears and left them ringing.
“I guess we ain’t allowed here no more, eh?” I muttered, irritated, stumbling backwards.
As I staggered down the street I heard Julie yell insults out to me, but I staggered on.
Out of the blue, I felt a soft hand reach out to touch my face, I slowly glanced down at baby’s sympathetic face, creases of worry marking her little forehead.

The night sky was filled with stars tonight. The moon the brightest I’d ever seen. They all seemed to twinkle down on the baby’s snoozing body, in a small spotlight. I gazed down at her in wonder. That is when I realised the overwhelming love I felt for her. I snuggled her tighter under my chin and whispered in her tiny ear, ‘don’t worry baby, this is your home now, I’ll take care of you.’
I murmured it so softly that it was only audible to baby.

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