Something Isn't Right

I drink wine, red, like blood and an image pops into my head: you're lying on the floor at my feet bleeding out slowly, agonizingly. You're not speaking but your eyes are begging. I tell you not to bother begging out loud, don't waste the last of your breath on words that won't matter. This image makes me smile as I down my glass of wine, step over your body that isn't there, and go for another.

When I return, you're still lying there and I vaguely think to myself that something isn't right but then am distracted by the growing pool of blood surrounding your beautiful body. I step over you again and feel your blood, warm and velvety under my feet. I tell you

"I think if the colour red had a texture, this would be it."

Your eyes are following me. They look heavy. I sit in your blood and place your head in my lap, stroke your hair at the base of your neck like you used to like so much. Back when you loved me. Before you ruined everything.

I remember how you used to love wine so I pour a bit between your lips and you cringe, I apologize for the bitterness but I don't like sweet wine anymore.

"A lot has changed since you left."

I stroke your hair again.

"I wish you felt better."

You just stare up at me..

"We haven't seen each other in so long, surely you can think of something to say to me..."

Those big green eyes have that same look in them, like you have something to say but you're being stubborn. All I want is to hear your voice once more, before it's gone but you won't speak. This makes me cry. Your head in my lap, one hand in your hair and the other holding my wine and I ask you to please just say something, anything. Say my name, say you hate me just...please..

You blink at me in response.

"F*****g figures."

I finish my wine, shove your head off of me and go for another glass. I nearly slip in your blood and feel it drip down the backs of my thighs from where I sat. On my way back I smile and am calmed by the footprints I've left on the carpet and the black and white checkered linoleum that always reminds me of a taxi cab. I walk back in and apologize for getting so emotional but

"it really hurts my feelings that you won't say something. It's the least you could do, don't you think?"

I sit on my knees at the edge of your spilled blood and draw a heart with my index finger, then raise my hand high above my head and slap it against the heart, splashing blood all over both of us.

You blink again.

An alarm on the bedside table goes off and you jump a little. I tell you to relax, it's just time to take my meds. I pull the makeup bag full of pill bottles off the table and it lands with a smacking sound and another splash. My hands leave bloody prints on the bottles as I open each one and cup five little pills in the palm of my hand.

I chase them with the remainder of my wine and feel your blood, now cold, on my face.

"Another glass?"

I ask you. Of course, you don't respond so I just get up and go for another, dragging the fingers of my free hand along the wall on my way. I refill and turn to go back. At first glance, all the blood on the floor and wall is gone. I blink hard and it all comes back. Something isn't right.

"My eyes are playing tricks on me again,"

I tell you, as I walk through what is left of your life, coagulating on my bedroom floor. I look out the window, ask if you remember when we used to sleep under the big tree at the back of the field. Again, not surprisingly, you don't answer.

"Well do you?"

I turn to look at you and in the split second time span of a blink, your blood covered body is sitting cross legged in the middle of your puddle, grinning at me. Green eyes open wide like you just did a shot of really good dope. Your teeth bright white against the dark red streaking your face. I jump and drop my wine and suddenly all is returned to normal.

Something isn't right but your body is now back where it belongs, lying in a pool of blood on my floor. I pick up my glass, walk around you and go for more. I empty the bottle and go back to my original place at your head. I feel tipsy and tired and I giggle to you that this is ironic since you always promised you would die for me but you would also be the one to kill me.

"Looks like I finally beat you at something!"

I lean down to kiss your bloody mouth and feel my lips hit your teeth. Your eyes are wide and you're grinning again. That same grin as when you beat me at Candy Land.

Or beat me in general.

I gasp and try to get up but I slip and land on your body, feel your arms wrap around me but I push away, take a step back and suddenly it's all gone..

the blood, the body, that violent grin...

I stand staring at the place where you were just dying for me, or maybe because of me, and the only thing I can think to do is get more wine. I stumble to the kitchen, all the footprints and fingerprints gone, open a new bottle and take a long drink then walk slowly back to the bedroom..peek in and you're still not there.

I fall to my knees and begin clawing at the carpet, looking for any sign of you like we used to look for rocks we thought we dropped when we had been awake for too long but all I find are bottles of pills.

I crawl to the spot on the floor that is still warm from your bloody body and curl up, knees to my chest, and fall asleep.

Something isn't right.

Reviews

[--Katie.]

This is written wonderfully, and the details are incredible.
It stirs up certain feelings, and yet it's calming at the same time.
I adore your writing style.

[BlueZan]

Thank you very much =)