My darling

I bleed from wanting that isn't deep crimson. It is a thick, stagnant green sludge- the color of standing water in a clogged drain. Squeezing out painstankingly from my pores, heavy and stinking of rusted steel and wet earth.I scatter delicate blue blossoms all over. Yet it does not morph into a prime and proper feline beauty moving with fluid grace. All it remains is longing covered in faded lime green t-shirt with seams torn , thin and reedy with stomach bulging at awkward angles ; grasping at delicate fibres and trapping itself in well spun stories.  Hope drives this thirsty creature with a throat of punctured paper like a speed-crazy maniac. Cracked blackened heels perpetually on the accelerator. 

I grasp onto the smallest of smiles and suddenly my desire takes form - A clear picture. You and I. 

You are the magnet, the iron in my heart could never resist.

 But the truth rears up ugly and orphaned - I am waiting in a uniform five sizes small , sitting in the dusty classroom of the school which stands abandoned beyond repair. The air stinks of sugary sweet perfumes and peppermint cologne. Far right a muted bell tolls , hushed giggles  and then... loud silence - something that makes me want to smash glass doors and break down the walls of the building but I am stuck- ribs squeezed on a miniature bench carved out for the 8 year old me. Who stands beside the bench - glaring at me with her big doe eyes. Her hands neatly folded on her chest , mouth scrunched up in a stubborn frown and eyes glazing ready to drip but then a noise in the background makes her look past me. Her neck snapping instantaneously. A moth drawn to light. I follow her line of vision and I too am ensnared by the sight - by the tiny guy who tosses his head in the air and laughs. I see him imitating a drunk runner , tossing his hands right and left and he looks back and flashes a toothy smile. 

The lone sane pillar holding my heart snaps - makes me fall onto my knees begging with my head bowed down, forehead grazing the white marble floor, hoping mother pities me. She does. With her lips pressed she averts her eyes. She stands helpless , her face scrunched up and eyes burdened. Maybe a small part of her mind deliberates the nuances , the slightest chance of possibility while the rest of it scoffing at the idiocy. 

Despite the stagnant stench of decay overpowering the cocoa delight - I stand on tip toes reaching outward towards the plane that soars high above in the pale blue sky with the winds rushing the clouds northward. Solid in appearance yet these are miniscule but shapeless molecules all clustered together emerging in totality. From dirt you get miracles. But the one miracle I scramble around for and push my hands around in frenzy - doesn't appear. You never appear. They say the more needy you are for something the more you repel it. Maybe that's why you and I are parallels. For me to conquer you and taint you with my desire - I must stop wanting. I pretend. 

But darling it's been 8 years. I remember the last time we locked eyes across the road. I stood by the police officer with my fists balled and head feeling heavy. He wouldn't let me go. I walked mindlessly towards the pavement on which gray dust clung tight. Sitting on the broken shards of the blocks that were jigsawed on grainy sand; I felt one stab my pants as I dropped my weight on it. As I raised my hands to block the afternoon sun, glaring at its daring- I saw you. Walk by with your friends. Merry and shining. My starving eyes chased you as you crossed the crosswalk and went down the road. And just before you turned left, you looked back. But darling, here is where my memory betrays me. It doesn't remember the shades of brown in your eyes. The curve of your smile. The bright teeth flashing as you laughed. You are like a shuffling mosaic of blocks on my high pixelated screen. 

 

  Yet in my dreams my eyes instantly gravitate towards you. I walk towards you in trance, hypnotised by your smile. And sometimes when you suddenly pop up , my heart flutters. Your face is blurred yet I see your eyes , the warmth in your gaze endears me. Any tension my body seemed to have held turns into a puddle and drips away. Something in the back of my mind nags. Scrubbing the surface with sandpaper and that's when I realise I am dreaming. I wake up chasing the last of the warmth as the suffocating humid air in the room weighs heavy on my eyes. 

I desire to lock every detail of you in a golden chest, yet you evade my grasp. 3.48 am my clock reads. The room is pitch dark and my eyes stare into the darkness wanting. My heart thrums. A hungry monster claws at my heart. Longing. 

 I reminisce about the past a lot. Walk down the old path with a broken street lamp, dragging soot everywhere. Tainting the path with dirty soles. 

 A fall here , a push there and suddenly I am drifting down the jagged lane. Uncaring of the sharp rocks piercing my soles. The stench of tangy iron burns my nostrils. I walk around and look at pieces of me frozen in time at every point in the pathway. Hunched teen sitting with her back bent, little girl dragging her nail along an invisible wall with her back facing me.  

Crooked crystal castles tinted yellow stacked haphazardly, lean on an elfin girl. She mouths for help. Tears sliding down her eyes. Mouth opened in a perpetually muted scream. Her back bends slowly, burying her into the gliding marble plain. I see tears drop down onto her cheeks but can't hear her. Her voice is muted beyond the clang and thud and roar of the monster who works with a chisel. 

There around the corner , an old girl worked. Her fingers gripping onto a chisel. A thick plait falls past her shoulder. Fringes covering her eyes. A white garb cinching her waist. She worked the curved chisel delicately on a sculpture. Her slender wrists work an elegant dance. She holds the chisel with white knuckled control, eyes fervently tracking the bevel as the square slab shed its bulk around the shoulders. Her hands loving caressing the torso that emerges. The sharp, chaotic crunch of stone fracturing pauses as she flicks her wrist above her eyes. Brushing the fringes and hurriedly tucking them behind her ears. And it is then she spots me. And look up. Her eyes are pupiless, glassy white. 

I flinch and walk further. 

Behind the tight military file of slabs standing face pressed close to each other, I see another. 

A 15 year old teenager stands. Wearing a neatly pressed pantsuit with a vest. Her hair slicked back and dutifully tucked. She holds a large tub of glue , pasting crystal glass to a bungalow ruined in  rubbles. Shards of glasses stuck together. Tiny fragments find a place beside the large mirrors. The unorderly arrangement emerges into an intricate network of  jagged geometry. A topographical map of sharp peaks and hollow crevices. Each shard tilted at a different angle creating a staccato filter of blinding glints and dark shadows. 

Amidst the tiny dried out skeletal hands of creeping ivy winding down a window , a child sits conversing with her  mickey doll. Clumpy cotton spilling from the sides of the doll's torn seams. She looks at me and smiles. Her lips stretch wide and cracks appear. Her eyes are the same. Pupiless white. 

Around the corner I see myself. From the week prior. Her thin brittle hair wound in a messy plait. Her finger nails bleed as she continues to rub her hands over a milky opaque sheet of glass. A high pitched, rhythmic squeak emitting as the gritty resistance turns her palms stinging red. Yet  she continues in her endeavour , mental about making it all shiny and sleek. 

I look away searching for a way out.

 The lane is littered with devils of all ages. They look up at me and wave at their newest neighbour. They know a kin when they see one. The eldest one whose breath stinks of lavender and roses often extends her hand and thrusts her chisel forward. I pry it out of her willing hands. My hold tightens and my fingers dig into the rough scars that are engraved in it. Gripping it. I often get to work. But not now. 

That early morning I walked back to the crystal palace of you and I. Played every moment again and set everything right. Polished the glass of your eyes to perfection. Rubbed it until I could see myself in your eyes. 

 Yet ugly longing chose to berate me for my faults. If only I had tried harder - you would have looked back and smiled. Your eyes wouldn't look past me in search of someone else. Maybe then I would have that warm gaze and fond smile for myself.  

  It's all in my mind. The world narrows down to the point of a needle. My heart beats frantically against the burning spikes that surround it. I feel unanchored. Unhinged. I jump. 

 Water!!

A ship glides past the heavy currents smashing against its hull in the dark ocean. The evening sun's shine dims as the ship moves further away. And I want to turn the direction of the ship, force it to change its path but the tides push the hull forward despite how hard I try to turn and walk back. The currents cage me and the ship sails away from her sun. I tilt my body, angling itself to gaze at the sun , but my neck hurts and my eyes sting as the harsh winds slap against my face. I can't seem to get a grip. My heart is bleeding and I am slipping away. I don't want any of this. I can't hold onto anything. The steel railings on the stern of the ship I clutch onto slice my palms with their sharp edges. 

" Breathe" I gasp in pain. My lungs constricted, squeezing my chest. I claw at my throat but can't breathe. 

" Breathe in ... good..now out..once again" my hand is pulled forward, I grope in the dark. My fingers come in contact with a coarse fabric. A hand holds onto my palm and brings it towards a hard chest. I feel a steady heartbeat and focus on it. My breathing pattern starts to mimic the person holding onto me. 

" It's alright" I hear it repeatedly and the voice transitions from being muted and distant to one in close proximity. I see the pale yellow tiles on the floor. There are stripes running along them. The blurred patterns slowly come into focus. "Breathe" 

Bright brown eyes gaze at me. Brows furrowed. And then he smiles.. that smile. And behind my eyes pictures flash rapidly. A film rolling too fast to hold onto anything. A smile. Blushing neck. Eyes that crinkle in delight. A smirk. A wave. And the ground is collapsing again. The floor turns into a giant vacuum sucking me in. 

I try to breathe but my airway is choked. Pushing myself down on the floor , I hug my knees to my chest and rock myself back and forth. " It's alright, it's alright" I ceaselessly chant, wanting to engrave it in my mind. And a voice joins along with mine. 

" 5 things you hear " 

I focus on the voice. I hear a voice. Vehicles honking. The roar of a truck. My heart- it's roaring. There is a woman who is chatting with her friend on the road. A child crying. 

"Breathe" I inhale slowly testing my airway for any debris blocking it. 

With each inhale - the vacuum loses its grasp on me , the floor feels more tangible. The laughter down the street- slowly erases the blank smile splitting the face into two. 

" Slowly come back to yourself - tune yourself to your breathing. Follow my voice. Now slowly open your eyes. Look around. There on the left most corner is a harry potter poster - you remember the quote - happiness can be found even in the darkest times.." the chiming voice halts daring me to continue 

" If one remembers to switch the light on" I murmur , my voice hoarse and throat parched. 

" Fantastic!! Now miss, open your eyes and look at me" there is a hint of persuasion in the voice that makes me want to keep my eyes shut. But I comply out of sheer desperation to be anywhere but stuck in my mind. 

' breathe' I remind myself. 

"Just breathe" 

I open my eyes and am barraged with bright light hitting my retina. I squint at the bright world and my glasses are pushed on my face. 

" Welcome back" the woman in front of me says. Her tone is merry and the frown vanishes. She is a pretty woman with thick black hair. A delicate white dress falls on her lithe frame. She makes me feel warm. But she is darn terrible when it comes to making me feel things I have locked in a chest that is pushed to an abandoned corner in my mind. There are spindly webs that litter it. Locked always. My own crystal cellar.  

" Who was he ? " She asks searching my eyes for an answer 

" No one," I snap. She scoffs at this. Even that sounds melodic. 

" We don't move from here until you talk about him." She stresses. 

" A random stranger" I try again 

The room is silent except for the whirring fan that pushes hot air around. Outside the meshed windows I see the dark evening. Street lights flicker on.  Tired, I slump in my seat. My back twinges and burns against the moist seat encased by a coarse fabric. The clock continues ticking. 

" I don't know " I finally brave myself to answer 

" He is both real and imagined. A creature of creation and a figment of my imagination. " I blur out

" I have never been able to see his face because I never imagined it. It's just been a warm gaze and a beautiful smile. There exists a person like this. But the one that is mine - they aren't the same. " I continue. The flood tearing open the barricade.

" I guessed that. " She whispers to herself ,

" Now tell me about the monster. Your devil. How does she look?"

" Deformed. Disfigured. I don't see her. I feel her. " I avert my eyes and fiddle with the chain wrapped around my right wrist. Pulling it tight and releasing it. 

" What does she make you feel ?" 

" Not enough" I whisper into the sleeve of the sweater whose rough fibre rubs against my pinkening skin, as I wipe not tears from my face. 

I am not brave enough to talk about the way my heart drops in shame when I see someone perform the sequence I have practised for years, do it flawlessly with such grace and beauty that awes me despite my shame. I don't tell her about the moments where every molecule in my body turns weightless and drops down like a torrent of water flowing from an unused rusted tap, dripping away drop by drop  into the drain when I see people do things that I have imagined. See people live the story that I narrate myself to sleep. 

A eerie  buzz of alarm going off her phone jolting me back. I sit up straight. Ready to leave. 

" I am impressed by your opening up" she begins switching her phone off  setting it aside facing in on its back. 

" Now there is something I want you to do. Listen carefully."

I lean forward and focus on her. 

" Whenever the devil hands you the chisel you bargain with her. You don't try to survive 365 days. What you will do is gamble for today. For now. She won't let you out of her grasp if you decide to turn into a new leaf. You negotiate everyday. " She asserts " you live for now. You have all but given yourself to her. Don't run away abruptly. Do it slowly. "  

I nod at her words. Taking in what she means. " Bargain for today "

 But suddenly my heart drops. 

" H-h-how?" I stammer 

" What how ? "  She leans forward 

" H- how do you know about the chisel? " I ask leaning away from her , pushing my chair away from her desk. It screeches as it rubs against the floor. It's sound weighing heavy. 

 " What do you mean? How can I not know ? " She cocks her head and looks at me in concern. Her large eyes take me in unblinkingly. Confusion colouring her features. 

" You and I we, are the same. Aren't we? You  are a part of me. " She smiles. Her smile glistened with symmetry. Pinning her features in a portrait of frozen flawless grace.  painted red lips stretching into a perfect rose curve. 

My heart thumps loud in my chest. And there is a metallic shrill that goes out in my ears. Echoing. Haunting. Hurting. 

" W-what ?" 

She leans forward. Eyes rounding in concern. Legs crossed and chin in her hand, balancing her weight on the front of her chair, gazing at me. The smile never disappears. 

 " you and I we are the same" she enunciates slowly stressing on every syllable. 

" Afterall is it not me that you bargain with for your life? " she throws her head on the head rest of the pale yellow seat she sits on. She looks at me. And her eyes, They glint like shards of frost " you  have worked so hard to build this palace. This place. It took me years to reach this perfection. I am so much better now. How can you think of burying me alive? " Her voice is perfect and poised. She straightens up. Back ramrod. 

" W-w-who ?" I can only stammer out 

" How can you forget your creation? I am all you could ever dream of. The nights you spent growing each strand of my hair. Straightening it, smoothening it. Didn't I make you smile in pride with my grace and skill.  You slept safe because I was there. Wasn't I always there?" 

I look at her. She appears translucent. Shining. Her face is reflective. Blurred. Like a crystalline pallor of a dead moon. 

My heart thumps once and there is a deafening silence that pierces my ears. An eerie lifeless quiet follows. 

She stands and walks towards me. Her walk precise and purposeful. The click of her heel hammering my head. Placing her elongated slender finger on my chin and she leans down. An intense smell of  lavender and roses hit my nose. I can't move. The room around me is collapsing. The furniture disintegrating slowly . Cracks appear on the walls widening like a whip. The walls are transparent. Crystal. Polished and thin. The Harry Potter poster torn in shreds. The remnants of it vaporise into ash. 

" I am you aren't I ? How can you leave me. Where was this world when you sobbed in my arms ? Where were they when you disappeared? None cared. I was there. How can you part from me?" She whispers and I am drawn by her by soft mournful words. She looks into my eyes and I see minute pupils. 

" The world is the mind and the mind is the world. Why do you have to drag yourself on gravel when you can glide on marble?" Her voice resonates in my chest. The vacuum of noise grows loud. 

Her silken words ensnare me. Encasing me like a larve. 

" that damned world outside - doesn't deserve you. There is no switch for the darkness outside. Happiness is found inside. Here." She 

My chest ached. I couldn't breathe. And she comes closer. Her face with a layer of shine emanating outward. And her loving lips move  towards my forehead. My body is paralysed. I can't move my fingers. Everything weighs like lead.  I can't push her. My eyes look around begging for help. But   the room around me  is collapsing and everything is falling , glass  thrashing and shattering. The destruction is muted. I watch all of it fall apart. 

I can't do anything. 

Please let me wake up. I can't breathe. I want to claw at my chest.

" Breathe" 

" Breathe" 

 Her lips graze to my forehead, ice cold and a deadly scream tears from my throat. My vocals straining with the effort. The air punctures  my raw throat and it burns. A piercing white noise - a jagged roar follows. The sound of a million dead radio stations screaming at once. 

And the world collapses.