The scars

April 26, 2011
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I take one step through the door. “Breath,” I tell myself. But the air inside that small room has made this small feat nearly impossible.
“Rebecca,” I hear whispered. It’s all around me, consuming me slowly. This is not his plan, for sure. But here I am, wondering when this game will end.
“I thought I’d never hear your voice again,” I barely choked out.
“Rebecca,” he said, “it’s been so long.”
My red hair caught what little light was emanating from the lonely window. The door shut behind me in a gust of wind, which took away what little air I had sucked into my lungs. The warm air recedes from the room, leaving me shaking.
I felt his hands, like ice crystals, trace the scars on my back, then around to the neck line of my shirt, where the cloth just barely hides the red marks of the scars from long ago.
“I-I’m not doing this anymore.” I mumble, finding the knot I had made in my pocket.
“WHY NOT?” he boomed, and I flinched. I know no one else can hear him. To anyone else, it’s just me alone in this dark room.
“I can’t live like this. Everywhere I turn is another nightmare. Another shot coming my way.” I explained when I finally had enough air in my lungs.
“I saved your life,” he said menacingly, “now you can’t live it?” his voice softened to an almost helpless plea, “not even for me?”
The temperature in the room rose until it was comfortable once more. But I know this trick too well; he wasn’t gone- not even close. He was taking his form, so I watched the air in front of me. When I saw his face, there were dark lines, like my scars, all over it. I know that if I reached out to touch him, I would feel them now. That, if I reached out to touch him, I could trace those scars, and he would let me. They would lead down to his bare chest. And he would close his eyes, and let me touch him. But I won’t. Not this time. Not when I was planning to join him.
“Don’t do this, Rebecca. Please.” He pleaded, and caressed my face with his hand, so gently.
“I’ll join you. We won’t have to stay here. I won’t have to see these things anymore. All of these nightmares.” I said, and smiled. Tears filled my eyes, and, as one came loose and ran down my cheek, he caught it.
“Please, Rebecca.” He said again, and kissed me. This kiss was different from the ones before- it was desperate. A type of pleading. He pulled me close to him, deepening the kiss, and then let go of his form. “Please,” he said, as the room grew cold once again.
“I’m joining you. I love you.” I said, and I pulled the always- silent trigger, ending this miserable existence, moving to one with my love, forever.





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ags_586 said...
Nov. 9, 2011 at 1:01 am
whoa, this is truly heavey, and beautiful.
 
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