diebylatex (diebylatex) wrote,

She lay there. Her mind in shambles. What the hell happened? Where the fuck am I? She tried to move. Nothing. Again she told her body to move. Not a twitch. Every limb screamed with pain. She glanced at her wrist. What the fuck? Why the hell am I strapped down? She tosses her head side to side. Taking in all of her surroundings. She realizes where she is. She sees the cliche white padded walls. On the wall she faced was a door with a small porthole window. She could see the sun comming in from a single window behind here. What the hell is going on? She yelled for someone to help her. She felt the tight leather on her ankles and a draft from her hospital gown. Her eyes started taking in more details. There was a needle inserted in her left arm. This needle was an I.V. The liquid in the bag was a sickening green color. The color you imagine when speaking of peas. Whats going on for fucks sake? Ok. Calm down. Recap. What is the last thing you remember? Her eyes slammed shut, she tries to picture an image. Any image will do. I can't. What's wrong with me? Start with the basics. What is your name? She concentrated. I am Alanna. Well, now thats your first name. What is your last name? A sudden pain filled her head. The pain forced her eyes shut and she cried out loud. Calm the fuck down! Do you want to give yourself a heartattack? Myks. Alanna Myks. What the hell kind of last name is Myks? But it sounds right. Now that I know who I am. How did I get here? A deep inhale led to a bright flash of light.
White satin sheets. Blood red stains. Light blue eyes, begging for life. The scent of raspberries. Soft violin music. Thunderous voices. A figure on the bed. Rose Petals. A straight edge razor. Hand prints. An archaic book with a peeling spine. Scratch marks. A Broken mirror. Words written on the wall. Glass shards. Grass stains. Torn jeans.
Welcome back. Im insane. I know that much. Those images. What were those images? She hears rustleing outside her room. A shadow outside her window. A figure enters the room. A cold hand touches her forehead. She trys to identify this person. Who the hell are you and what the fuck is going on. Her visitor looks hurt. Her words seem to have upset him. Please tell me why Im here. How long have I been like this? What's the date? He frowns. He picks up his pen. Click-click. He scribbles on his clip board. What are you writing? He shakes his head. Whats wrong? Will I be ok? Please talk to me! He leans. She looks in his eyes. They are the same eyes! The image. She tries to grab his face but cannot. You're strapped in! How do I know you? He tapped her I.V. bag. Removes a saringe from his pocket. Pierces the plastic and injects a clear liquid. What's that? Why am I connected to this? Who are you? He covers the needle and replaces the saringe in his pocket. All she heard was his whisper. Before she fell again. Goodnight Alanna. Sleep tight my child.

He took her hand. She stalled for a moment. Alanna, he's touching you. She glanced into his eyes. He is so beautiful. I wonder what he is thinking. They kept walking. She took in her surroundings. First she noticed his shoes. Black, ragedy chuck taylors. The kind you feel at home slipping your feel into. With plenty of character, but not yet held together with safety-pins. She fell behind to take in the view. His jeans were tighter than hers. She bit her lower lip. That's the right fit. The green grass stains reminding her of their game of full contact tag. The bottoms folded up once to keep from dragging on the ground. A yellow bandana tucked into his left back pocket. His studded belt matched her own. He caught her checkig him out and smiled. His voice sending shivers down her back. He asked her if she was having a good time. Of course I am. He squeezed her hand three times. I love you, she knew what it ment. Soon she realized she didn't have goosebumps from him, but she was cold. It's because you're wearing next to nothing. Vigerously she rubbed her left hand over her right shoulder trying to warm herself. He asked if she was cold. With a nod of her head and a shift of his eyes, they had an entire conversation. The grip the had onf one another was released. He removed his gray track jacket. She happily put it on over her black tank top. Amazing. Her chest rose as she inhaled his scent. Christian wrapped his arms around her and attempted to warm her tiny body. His black hair fell into his deep green eyes as he looked down at her. She felt him breathing in her scent as if he were about to dive to depths unimaginable. She placed her hands on his chest, and her head on her hands.
I would die for this

At the top of her lungs she sang. Tears filling her eyes. Beyond four letters. Until this moment she didn't understand what those words ment. Christian was put on this earth for you. Alanna knew it. Everything he says, does. They were all put in motion to complete you. And you are everything that is perfect for him. Nothing can take this away form you. And you both know it. Her left foot rested on the steering column as she drove. AC up and windows down. She could see the air comming from the vents. Perfect weather. Red light. She took notice of her fingernails. Why are they so filthy? With her thumb nail, she picked dried blood from under her right index. Suddenly her vision began to fade.
Fucking keys. She fumbled in the dark. She listened for the sound of her key turning the mechanism inside the lock. There it is. She slowly opened the door and kissed the key. The key to Christian and Alanna's place. Our place. We, us, our, me and him. Together, under one roof. In one bed, with morning breath. Waking up to him making coffee. His and her towels. Sides of the bed. Sleeping in the shirt he wore that day. Sharing the bathroom. Cooking him dinner. I must have been damn good in a past life. She looked around the front hallway and found the light switch. Christian I'm home. She spoke loud enough to be heard through out the apartment with out yelling. Im glad they let me out of work early, look at this mess. In the kitchen to her right, dirty dishes lay in the sink. She placed her purse on the gray laminent counter top. Quietly she opened the fridge door. The norm. Apple juice, beer, butter, left over chinese, milk, grapes. And chocolate sauce? She pulled out the brown hersheys bottle and the milk. Placed them on the counter as she stood on her tip toes to open the cabinet. She barely wrapped her fingers around a tall glass when she noticed flickering lights comming from their bedroom. A smile spread across her face. She grabbed the chocolate and headed to the room. Silently she slipped her shoes off at the front of their room. She opened the door. Right at that moment. She died. Another woman lie in her bed. On her side. Sleeping. Under their sheets. The nice clean black sheets. In their bedroom. Christian walked out of the bathroom drying his hair with her towel. Wearing his. She heard him speak a name. Not hers. Eve. Eve? Who is Eve? Christian looked at her. His face. The look on his face. She began to shiver. Why am I cold? The chocolate bottle landed on the cream carpeted floor. Why are my candles burning? She asked him, her voice almost nonexistant. All she could hear was the her heart pounding. His lips were moving. It awoke. It. Eve. Her. Whore. Female. Startled, the red head wrapped the sheets around her naked body. How cliche. Alanna, it's like a scene from a movie. He came to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. She looked in his green eyes. My lover. Her right hand raised. She felt no pain as her hand made contact with his cheek.
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