Author: Jamie Luv PM
I wrote this for an English assignment which was to write a narrative on the theme of belonging. Enjoy...-J.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Hurt/Comfort - Words: 1,008 - Published: 03-07-13 - Status: Complete - id: 3106893
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
There was always a longing I had inside whenever he wasn't around, that sort of longing that leaves you empty and cold. Sort of like that one corner bathroom stall that brands "Out of use" on its doors.
I lay still, my back resting against the deep grey duvet covers as I stared desolately at the ceiling; black patches of mold are its only decoration. Three days? Maybe four? It all seemed to be a blur to me, every minute passing me by since he left me here. There was no solace in the world, even as the warmth of the sun from the open window gazed upon my face. Its early rays bathing me in a pool of light, seeming to beckon at me, tempting me but it burnt me to the touch. I felt a surge of loneliness creep up my spine again, as it had been every hour or so. It began like a light fluttering of butterflies that had just begun flight, and trekked even slowly up my vertebrae, notch by notch. Then dispersing throughout my body, as if an unknown predator's presence had sent them in a chaotic frenzy.
Was this life without him? I thought with a sigh. The feeling of heaviness filled my core with a bitter wind.
Even with my eyes closed all I could see was him. His ebony locks sweeping into ringlets around his forehead, cut short yet shaggy. I remember his eyes…. emerald-gem globes that searched your own, soulfully and all were set in a face that was lined with time and laughter and love, as if he had known no anger, nor sorrow.
However, is it selfish of me to want only the touch of his hands? To daydream in feverish want of those slender but calloused fingers? There isn't a greater treasure than that. To be with your beloved, and to be held closely to him. It's in those moments that just one touch and every emotion would come forth like water under a bridge…
I shivered at the thought and not just out of anticipation. The shadow had come again in the form of a crippling cold; just as it always did even with the afternoon sun in the background. Always there to ensnare me in its freezing hold; sweeping on the wings of the curtained window. It always began as stormy rain clouds settling in the pit of my stomach, drenching me inside out; leaving my skin icy to the touch. I hissed at the pain in my immobile limbs and my fingers; a dull throb like a heaving bosom aching for touch. On cue, my eyes began to close, blocking out the world and letting the coldness seep into the cell that had become my heart.Creeeeeeeak.
My eyes popped open at the noise and to my horror, the lithe form of Aileen gracefully strolled in through the aged oak door. A sense of terror entered me, making my body tense in response to her unwanted presence. Her svelte figure was dressed in designer jeans and a t-shirt that looked like it had just come out of its box and her sleek hair swished in the air as the sun made her ginger locks glow. Yet, the unnatural glow in her ebony eyes made me shudder as she made her way to my side. She snatched me up as if I was made of air, and without warning her slender digits roughly seized my own. Stroking them while she held my neck in a prison-choke hold. The feeling of baby-soft skin cast humiliation deep into the depths of my mind; her fingers exploring blindly in a vast unknown terrain. The earthy color of shame devouring me as she touched, and stroked what was not hers. Clenching my eyes tightly in an attempt to block out the assault, I was left feeling used as she took without giving.
"There you are, Aileen!" A baritone voice boomed suddenly. I nearly jumped out of my skin even as I felt Aileen's body shift away from me, dropping me down quickly. I could only sigh with relief at this but then freeze. There he was in all his plaid-shirt and frayed jean glory.
It's strange to be thinking so much about someone, and then having that unexplainable moment where the person of such thoughts is in front of you, leaving you speechless.
Aileen's voice broke through my thoughts,
"Sorry, Big Bro. I just wanted to see what was so good about her. She's all you talk about." Her face was a rainbow of confusion, envy and yearning as she stared at me. As if I was a puzzle too complex to solve.
"What do you mean by 'good'?" He replied, confusion written all over his handsome face.
"It's just…you talk of her like she's human. Like she feels life, as if she's alive. How do you even know she's a she?" Aileen mulled out loud and seemed stunned when her brother just chuckled softly.
"Because that's just how it is." Was all he said and he picked me up without another word and held my hands in one hand; my neck nestled gently in the other. They were as I always yearned for and I remained compliant in his arms. Every caress was filled with tenderness as if I was made of paper-thin glass, begging to broken. It was tempered by the scorch of his touch teeming with swift passion and care, it consumed my soul.
This was heaven on earth. The big enchilada. The state of nirvana. The level of ecstasy monks strive for and for me, it would always be with him.
I rejoiced as his hands wandered, tightened and glided until he abruptly paused to smile easily at his sister saying,
"The thing is Aileen, Epi is real. It's a creative relationship that just brings out the best of me. To me, she's more than just a guitar."
I smiled sadly at this, and just sang at the command of my nameless love.