Remembering an Old Fiend

She was the worst termagant I’d ever met and I despised her. She always had to argue; she always had to be right. If I were to tell her that the sky is blue, she’d argue that it was grey or green. Grey and green were her favorite colors, you know?

She had eyes like steel, cold and hard. It was as if she pierced through your soul with a glance from those icy blue orbs. She knew it too. She always had to read through you and argue to the point that it was ridiculous. She was annoying as Hell when she insisted that she knew you. She knew everything.

As capricious as she was, she had a way of making you believe her. She’d make you believe her every word. Her elaborate eloquence captivated everyone; there was no way to escape her words. No matter how sure you were of yourself she would sell you her beliefs. She would unsettle you with her sharp wit and fluent speeches. Her coy smile would blind you from the truth and she’d always get her way. I loathed her.

She choked the color from my life! She came in with her blacks and grays and greens and took over my world. She took everything from me! She took everything! Her constant bickering resounded through me and I found that in her presence I wasn’t myself. From the moment I met her I wasn’t myself.

I remember the day I first met her. I had been angry, very angry and she appeared.

“You really hate him don’t you?” She had asked softly.

“No,” I told her in reply. “I couldn’t hate him if I wanted to.”

“You want to make him hurt don’t you?” She had risen from the shadows and crossed to me. “You want him to feel what it felt like for you. You want to ruin him like he ruined you.”

“Who are you?” I had asked stupidly, captivated by her cold blue eyes.

“I could help you,” she suggested coming closer to me. “I know just what to do.”

“Who are you?” I asked again.

Her lips twisted into a creepy smile. “You can call me Jenna.”

I heard giggling in the distance. There he was; Charlie, the ass that had hurt me. I watched him in silence. I watched him hold his little whore and mutter sweet nothings in her ear. I watched her turn her head to gently kiss his lips and his happy smile.

“How dare he be so happy,” Jenna said silkily in my ear. “It hurts doesn’t it?”

I just watched, being torn to shreds on the inside. I remembered all the stolen moments with him and then all of his whore’s little promises to me. The little whore took him from me after she swore that she would never hurt me. She swore that she loved me and then she broke me. He promised forever and he made me a fool.

“I know of something better you can do than punch walls,” Jenna cooed, taking my bruised hand in hers. Her touch was surprisingly warm and I found myself nodding and trusting.

“Show me what to do,” I had whispered to her.

I had allowed her to take control and I hated her for it. I peered around the corner and saw that Charlie had gone, leaving her behind. Jenna urged me forward to her silently. She was at the top of the stairs, humming a little love song. Charlie’s little love song. I reached out a hand slowly at Jenna’s insistent urging. My eyes squeezed shut and I held my breath. What the Hell was I doing?

I heard her sigh, “I’ll do it then.”

I was surprised to feel my hand come in contact with a soft cotton shirt and push quickly. My eyes flew open in horror and I saw my ex-best-friend tumble down the stairs. My legs moved on their own accord and I found myself at the opposite stairwell. What had I done?

“It felt good didn’t it?” Jenna panted; her face was flushed in excitement.

“No.” I choked out. “No!"

She was gone now. She and her sweet coaxing were but a whispered memory in my mind. Her corruptions were gone. Her grays and greens are gone, exploding into rich colors. I’ve never been happier to be alone. After being with her always I welcome that feeling of loneliness that always lay within me.

“I know you,” her voice hisses in the crevices of my mind. “I know everything about you. I know what you want. I can help you get it.”

Her phantom voice echoes through my mind like poison drips through my veins. Her words like rotten sugar, sweet and inviting but then enough to make you ill. She was cold and cruel and powerful and calm. She was all that I wasn’t. She was all I wanted to be. And I hate her for it.

I hate her for being so difficult I hate her for making me this monster that I am now. I hate that through her influence I lost all sense of self; I no longer know who I am.

My mother cried everyday. I heard her behind her closed bedroom door. She cried for her baby and cried that she is lost. Hearing her sobs awakens something in me and I almost feel again. But feeling is raw and painful and Jenna was there in a rage.

“You won’t leave me!” She screamed, making my temples throb. “You don’t want this do you? You want her to shut up and stop blubbering and leave you to not feel, leave you to me.”

“You don’t know what I want!” I wanted to scream back but Jenna takes a hold on me and I was back where I was before, wrapped in a cloak of monotonous gray and deep green.

I remember the day she left. I remember the day I killed her.

“Go away Jenna,” I hissed and she cackled, pursing her pale lips. “Leave me alone now.”

“You need me,” Jenna laughed coldly pinching my arm painfully.

“No I don’t,” I insisted, yanking my arm back. “I never needed you.”

She looked away from me and out the window. Her shoulders shook and for a moment I believed her to be crying.

“I’m sorry,” I reached for her. “I don’t want to upset you.”

“Upset me?” she cackled turning around, amusement on her cold face. “You think that you could upset me? I am you!”

“What?” I trembled beneath her unwavering gaze.

“I am here because you called me, you needed me,” she continued, venom in her eyes. “There is nothing you could do to be rid of me because I will always be here with you; no matter what I’ll always be here”.

I ran to the kitchen, Jenna followed me, tears of mirth slipping down her cheeks. I grabbed a knife from the drawer and raised it above my head, poised to strike.

“You wouldn’t,” she smirked. “I know you won’t.”

I let out a strangled sob and lunged at her, driving the knife through her chest.

She screamed and blood flew about the kitchen. I stabbed again and again and her deep red blood stained everywhere. I could see color again! I could see!

I passed out then and woke up here. It is really rather nice, the walls are colorful and soothing. I’ve made friends here and the doctors say that I’m making a lot of progress.

“The scars have healed beautifully,” my favorite doctor tell me, while examining my chest

My mother comes to visit me everyday and she cries. I pat her hand comfortingly and we talk about the weather and my old friends. Charlie even came to visit me once. He brought pictures of his wife and kids and he would tell me all about what has happened since I’ve come here.

I love to see colors now. I love the paintings lining the halls. I look forward to mornings when they give me a rainbow in a cup. The colors are all beautiful. I nearly cry when I have to swallow their beauty.