Permanent Black (5)


“You’re lucky you left when you did. I never trusted him anyway,” Faith breaks in.

Oh, but I did. I begged to feel his hands against me, tried to tease out moments of violence and anger in between laughter and smiles. I was asking for it, to be so out of control that the weight of his hands would become lost against my skin. But all I got was soft, smooth hands and lazy fingers against my face.

“Jesus. Aren’t you upset? I mean, you did love him and all,” her voice drops down into another whisper, “so, you…loved… like a real murderer.”

But all I can hear, all I can see is that last day in November, red plastic phone in hand, stony silence giving way to Brad’s stonier words – why would you do a think like that? Why would you want to kill yourself? – and my answer only caught and strangled in my throat. I took his voice and threw it against the wall, cracking plastic and wires, gears and guts against the pale purple of my bedroom.

Faith’s voice has grown soft and distant, buried under the strain of memory. I feel Brad, only inches away, warm breath against my skin. He’s saying, why, why, why would you do a thing like that? And I turn and throw those words back like knives, all sharp and silver into his side. Why would you? For her? Permanent black, indelible blue, silver constellations scratched onto the surface of her eyes; but not mine.


2 Responses to “Permanent Black (5)”

  1. 2 pinklightsabre

    You write beautifully, Keep it up.

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