Destroying Angel 5

Ch 8

In another time. In another place I was a child. I can’t remember my mother. I think that its strange that whenever I try to picture her all I see is a blank face with a summer dress on, maybe a white apron with the words…."kiss the cook," in black…..Maybe the pucker of lips drawn on for added effect.

And the longing that I feel?

Better to dream about death. Death was closer. Much more tangible than a blank un-loving face.

I see the knife sticking out of the wall. I feel something stir inside of me. I look over to Carmen, out like a light. So pretty in her sleep. So calm and peaceful. And my peace has turned to pieces…..I am learning things. I am learning that I have a hard time remembering things….short term things…..its the damage that I feel. Behind my eyes….I can feel it moving…I can the feel the thing slowly killing me….it feels good……

I stare at the knife sticking out of the wall. I close my eyes. I try to feel a memory. I picture the knife in my mind. I imagine it tearing thru flesh, that sick sound. I keep them closed and I try to picture myself using it in some far off battle. I focus. I try so hard to focus. But I get nothing. And my head hurts. And of course my nose bleeds. I get up and walk to the bathroom.

I turn the light on. I look around. White tiles, black tiles. White towels. Clear glass hiding the shower. the tiles under my feet are cold……Flash of the coldest moment, left and right I turn, I look outside of myself….frozen each way I faced. I get sucked back into my reality. That is some memory….maybe I was stationed in Alaska?

I clean the blood off. I kept my head turned up. I lean against the wall. I slide down. That warm taste of blood down my throat….I feel hungry and tired….Carmen mumbles in her sleep…something about no and I can hurt you…..

I wanted her again.

I walk over footfalls silent on the carpet. I see our clothes in a heap…slowly I climb into her bed. I kiss her toes soft as they stick out under the sheet. I kiss her ankles, her knees, I can feel her stirring, looking around thinking is this real, maybe thinking that she is somewhere else. The sheet hides me from her, but she knows its me. I lick her thighs one then the other, I breath her in, that up close scent, so personal, I lick my lips, then I lick hers….muffled sound of moans, her hands in my hair…I wonder is she still sleeping?