Tuesday, September 22, 2009

The First and the Last

When I looked into his eyes, I can tell he is not reading me at all, or he didn’t even try to read me. I smiled to him, and he took my hand and kissed on my face. He was cold. That is all I remember on the first day I met him.

But I have to live with him, for the rest of my life. I had no choice, and only to live with my emptiness. On the table, food and drinks are always there, but never being finished. In the bed, there is no conversation, and only pain and tears. I got nothing to do, and just waiting. I wait for the chance that he allowed me to go to the nature, into the flowers, the trees, the sun, and everything that makes me feel free. The wind touches my face, sunshine warming my skin, that is the only moment that I feel I am alive and happy.

One sunny morning, a young gentleman came to me and gave me a brunch of flowers, flowers were so beautiful, and I could smell the sense of freedom. I was so happy, as I hadn’t go out for a week. But then he locked me up, and forced me to live with the darkness. And I lost my words and I started to sink into the dark.

Love is always something far away from me, and the one in front of me is the only “love” in my life. His hand with his knife is on my breast. He keeps on asking me why I always smile to the other men, and why I thanked for the gifts from the men. Well, did I smile to them? And did I really smile to him before?

He is holding my hand, and tasting my blood, this is the first time I feel warmth from him.

1 comment:

  1. Pretty chilling story from the end of the Duchess's life, one assumes. You really got under her skin - good job of characterization, and a good narrative you've made here.

    ReplyDelete