Deceptive Thoughts

A woman is haunted by her past afflictions, and she must learn to stand against what only her mind is producing.

      Kendra sits in silence on the depressed corner of her bed. Her heart is beating violently, and her lungs can only induce short spurts of air. She was thrown out of her sleep by the rattling sound of broken glass. Her eyes refuse to open and her hands grip the edges of her cover like a woman in labor. So much so that the nylon from the blanket left an outline of what looked to be stitches on her hands. Stitches that inflicted memories of a past not forgotten. Looking down at her hands brought visions of bloodshed. She had reminiscences of pain in the company of knives and a fabricated love. A love which she idolized; and a love Kendra seduced herself as being perfect on countless occasions. She was struck out of her thoughts by the sound of the living room lamp crashing to the floor. Every part of her body wants to rise out of the comforts of her bed. But it comes exceptionally difficult for her. Then finally as footsteps began moving towards her room, she swiftly and quietly hurdled into her closet.

     Instinctively she began to shut the closet door. But she immediately developed a fear of the cutting shadows. So she decided to permit just a finger worth of space for light. The seam which she contested to peek through was fed by the darkness of the room. The moment she tried to devise a wider gap the mysterious man wandered in. Kendra could only invest in his footsteps as she remained blind in her place of refuge. He’s gonna find me in here, I know it, she thought to herself as paranoia badgered her thoughts repeatedly. Giving in to the despair she began to cover her nose as an attempt to mute her stubborn breathing. But this contributed to more hysteria as her nose started to whistle the mucus. Her crying hampered her breathing pathway, inducing a screeching release.

     Her heart at this moment is beating vigorously. She attested it could be heard from outside the closet like a herd of stampeding elephants, each thump making a turbulent charge against the cavity of her chest. She began ripping clothes from the racks striving to muffle the violent rhythm of her heart. As consequence one of the hangers fell. By reflex she reached out for it, however there wasn't enough space for her to move. Her back brushed up against the closet wall and the hanger continued to fall. Anxiety forced her into a panic as she watched it descend to the floor. Kendra's body was overtaken by a flash of heat, her toes cringed and her eyes became alert. But at the very second the hanger fell, so did the man. The person falling in the room ceased the clinging of the hanger from being heard.

     The clumsy intruder left soon after. Yet Kendra remained sheltered in the closet frightened. Within seconds she heard the front door slam shut. She listened for footsteps, then gradually counted as a safeguard�"before cautiously opening the closet door; the door while opening began screaming through its rusted joints, and Kendra bit her lower lip to the point of bleeding to nest her composer. She insisted to do nothing about the blood until a phone was reached. Her cell phone was lying dead on the foot of the bed. So she had to get to a nearby phone to report the break in. As she ran out the room an arm grabbed her around her torso, and another around her mouth. The smell of liquor took her nose by storm, and the man’s grip squeezed out whatever breath she had left in her shaken body.

     The hand that was wrapped around her body started to move towards her pants, and the hand covering her mouth freed. So she transferred the weight of her head forward then shot it back into the man's nose. The man gave out an unnerving grunt before collapsing over in agony. He covered his face as blood began to cascade from his nostrils. Thereafter Kendra sprinted for the front door. Her hand met the knob, but before she turned it she heard her name yelled out to her. She let go and reversed back to the aggressor.

     When the man released his hands from his face Kendra recognized that it was her ex-boyfriend Marquis. She walked to the kitchen for a cloth to stop the bleeding.

“What are you doing here?” Kendra yelled as she threw the rag at him.

“I just came to see you. I missed you, and you haven't returned any of my calls” Marquis said as he began sobbing.

“What in the hell made you think I wanted to talk to you after what you did?”

“I was drunk babe. You know I wouldn't try to hurt you.”

“When are you not drunk Marquis...Huh?” Marquis had placed his head on his lap, and fell over without responding. “You know what, just go home. I'm not even going to call the police.”

“Call the police for what?” He asked in dismay.

“Oh, the hundred yard restraining order didn't come to mind when decided to break into my house?” She asked as she drummed on Marquis's forehead with her index finger.

He looked around the house at the broken objects. “Nope!” he said unmindful.

     Not before long she went to retrieve Marquis from the floor. He only weighed around a hundred and fifty pounds; however in his drunken state he felt well over two-hundred to Kendra. In order to get him out the door she had to lend him a fictitious expectation. An idea that he could not refuse, yet would not remember once he came to a clear mind. She leaned over into his ear and told him.

“Hey babe, go home and you can pick me up from church tomorrow. We'll talk about everything then.” At that moment Marquis appeared active and ready to leave.

     When Kendra tried to assist him up he suddenly became lighter than air. The clutch she had around his waist decreased from thirty-two inches to several. Also as her face was mounted on his back she watched as his black jacket faded to an off white. A few flickers of her eye lashes and she found herself sitting on her living room floor, alone. The only thing she was latched to was a pillow; Marquis was nowhere in sight, and the house seemed decent and in order.

     The following evening at service her mind was still in need of answers of what occurred; the preceding night had left an eerie knot that her mind could not unravel�"even though she sat in deep contemplation the entirety of the church service, wondering, the reasoning behind the dream of Marquis. That was until she heard everything become quiet: First the hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention, and then she raised her head bitterly to see the congregation as a whole starring in her direction. She looked behind her to see if anything had transpired. However those sitting in the back of her were starring as well. She then guided her eyes to Pastor Williams to see him pointing dead at her. The look on his face appeared dire. In addition to his urgent expression his hand was quivering while pointing at Kendra.

     Though she hated the attention, she felt a need to stand. As she began standing Pastor Williams swayed his head and conducted her to remain seated. Confused and distressed she folded her arms against her body for security. Also she lowered her head slightly, and she slouched into her seat inconsiderably. He then placed his hands on microphone leaned forward and said “You're becoming a mighty warrior in the kingdom sister, and now that you're a soldier, be prepared to fight.”

The moment she turned from him to search her bible all the attention dissipated. The pastor again was walking around preaching. What was said to her now added more proceedings to think about.

     I've just been baptized, and already I'm bout to be in a fight she thought to herself. Also Marquis bubbled to the top of her thoughts. Marquis was her first love, and the only man who ever made her heart skip a beat, whether from love or fear. But she had to let him go. The foundation which their relationship was built upon was unloving. Pride and self seeking desires consumed Marquis. Although the relationship grew distant Kendra always brought it back to form. Molding it like clay into an imaged that she sought out since a little girl, a figure that her father was not�"but in spite her efforts he deviated back into the figure her father was.

     She loved Marquis more than she loved herself, and he was the most important person in her life. The love that she thought was true was bestowed to her in falsity. Yet she loved harder. She believed her love could divide Marquis from his cycle of abandonment, and bring them closer. However once he embarked on drinking things changed drastically. Hellos diminished, and abuse took the place of kisses and hugs. With all that she kept the love she shaped with him, but constructed resentment for him as well.

     After the conclusion of the service Kendra departed to try to catch a ride from another member. But when she swung open the door the parking lot was deserted. The streets were empty as well. Just before opening the door she saw vehicles shooting past the stained glass window. Yet now none could be seen at either end of the drawn out road. As she began inching closer towards the curb the wind started to press down on her. The autumn leaves arose from the side-walk and began grazing her face. Kendra placed her hands around her head to protect herself from the flying shreds of wood. At the peak of this terrifying moment the wind stopped all together. When she lowered her hands Marquis was sitting in a car in front of her.

     The passenger side door was openly waiting for her, and Marquis was gesturing for Kendra to come inside. She was uncertain about the situation, yet with no one else left, she felt no choice. She got in, closed the door, and scrutinized Marquis suspiciously. She tried to launch an investigation into his thoughts.

“What are you doing here? Not saying that I'm not grateful for the ride, but why?” Kendra asked as she squashed her body up against the car door.

“Why are you sitting way over there, don't you wanna come closer?” Marquis suggested as he slithered closer to Kendra.

Kendra placed her hand on the door handle “You didn't answer the question sir! Why are you here?”

“What you mean baby? You told me to pick you up after church and that we could work things out.” Confusion was caught in the tone of Marquis's voice.

     That confusion then transferred over to Kendra. “You lost me, I have no clue what you're talking about” she said while opening the door.

“So you lied to me last night?” Marquis asked as he snatched the keys out the ignition. He then turned his head away from the Kendra facing the window.

“Last night? We didn't talk last night,” Kendra expressed. “Your drinking must be getting worst.” Without warning the wind blew Kendra's door closed. She struggled trying to agar it, but it would not free. Marquis became quiet. The only thing she could hear was the howling wind.

     After multiple attempts Kendra gave up. The car only held two seats, so the only other escape was through Marquis's door. She extended across him to see if his door would barge unlike her own. He was dead to the world. His head was prompt up against the head rest, and his arms were fastened around him. When she looked into his face it was relaxed and his eyes were sealed. Yet the motion towards the door became wearisome as the decayed leather began to squeal. But with good grace Marquis appeared to still be sleep. So she continued to reach across him until finally she took hold of the door. Once again she bit her bottom lip to keep her jitters astray. She pulled the handle and pushed the door open. Just as she took a sigh in relief Marquis's eyes popped open like a ring box. All the color left from his face, thereafter he captured Kendra's arm and began wrenching it like a piece of cloth.

     As he continued to contort her arm, he leaned into her body and smelled her hair. “It smells the same as last night” he said disturbingly.

“Last night?” Kendra asked with fear roaming her thoughts.

“Yeah when I came over.”

“That was a dream...wasn't it?”

“What do you think? You're the one that asked me to come, and I'm here” he said as he loosened his clinch. She gathered a breath before Marquis cranked her arm back into another uncomfortable position. “And now you're calling me a drunk.”

     Kendra now has thrown her entire body up against the door. Marquis cocked his hand back with a fist tightly held and swung at Kendra. She closed her eyes and tensed her face in preparation for the impact. Although when she felt contact it touched down on her shoulder. She hesitated to open her eyes. Cracking them she could see traffic going by. Then she opened her eyes completely. She turned around to see the parking lot embedded with cars. Kendra was now sitting on the curb, and did not know how. There was no sign that Marquis was ever there, and the pain in her arm was vacant. She got up to see a fellow church member was who had tapped her on the shoulder.

“You need a ride?” The man asked while helping Kendra from the floor. She remained numb from what happened. “Do you?” The man asked once more.

“Do I what?” She asked looking at him suspiciously.

“Need a ride.”

“Oh yes, yes I do!”

     Following the latest confrontation with Marquis, Kendra went to the police station to file a report on him later that night. She waited thirty-five minutes for her turn, and was agitated by the time it came. The officer working at the desk gave off an livid demeanor. By means of that Kendra refused to believe that it was going to go receptive between them. He was on the phone, and from a distance Kendra did not appreciate his temperament. Her perception delivered multiple indications about not trusting him. She believed that he could not discern her obstacles; however he was the only person available to help.

     Once she approached the officer her right leg had a consistent and ornery bounce to it. In like manner two of her nails cracked as she paraded them in disgust amongst the table top. She resided on edge of rupturing waiting for the man to end his call. Finally he was finish. Soon as Kendra cleared her throat to speak, the officer prodded a finger in front of her face as the phone began ringing once more.

     Now Kendra's composer has journeyed away from the situation. She took his finger in her face as a sign of disrespect; subsequently she reached over the desk and unplugged the jack from the back of the phone, then instantly lodged the cord back in. The officer fixed his hand atop his pepper spray and gave Kendra a grim stare-down.

     She gently took hold of the officers forearm “Please don't, I'm not crazy. I'm just in the need of help.”

The officer said firmly “This better be life or death,” as he removed his hand from his spray. Next he freed himself from Kendra's persuasive touch. “Now, what seems to be the problem?”

“It's my ex. He's now attacked me on a few occasions since I've filed a restraining order on him.”

“So you said you've already filed a restraining order, Ma'am?” The officer seemed to be genuinely unconcerned.

“Yes, but it's not easy to block a fist with a piece of paper.”

“Well, that piece of paper allows us to respond as quickly as possible to the dispute,” the man said as he began filling away papers, “If, you call us.”

     Eye contact was nonexistent and Kendra felt alone in her torment.

“Well I'm sorry I couldn't call you guys while his arm was around my throat.” Her tears were restrained by her pride and held captive by the thought of not presenting herself as weak. However her anguish was unmistakable, so the officer stopped putting away paperwork to consult her properly. His attitude was altered by the pain not expressed by Kendra. He realized at that time the situation was dire. A woman this strong would not have come if she wasn't in desperate need. I have to help her anyway possible, the officer thought to himself.

“Give me his name.” The new found seriousness left Kendra speechless. “Please Miss, his name.”

After getting over her surprise, “Marquis, Marquis Wolfe,” she mumbled.

“Don't worry about him, were gonna get this guy, okay?

“Thank you�"”

“Don't thank me just yet” the man said with a wink before making his way into the back office.

     Another thirty minutes had elapsed before the officer returned. He looked around the waiting room for Kendra, but could not see her. Then finally he caught sight of woman with an olive jacket over her head sleep. He at that moment grabbed a large pen from his desk, and tossed it softly in the air to check the weight, but ultimately felt it was too heavy. So befitting he took the top off the pen. Next he attained a sound finger-grip on the top, and then unexpectedly chucked it at Kendra's slumbering body. The pen-top clipped Kendra on the crown of her head. She began waking up leisurely, thenceforth the officer turned his head from her hiding the pen, but his eyes persisted.

     As she was awakening she removed her jacket to see what tagged her; yet while expelling the jacket she watched the pen-top hit the floor. In the act of picking up the top she hunted around the waiting room at the possible candidates for throwing it at her. Not a soul came into sight more suspicious than the officer. She made a swift glance over at him; the officer was caught off guard and did not drive his eyes away from her in time, bringing an end to her speculation.

“Hey there...glad to see you're awake,” the officer said sarcastically. “I have some news for you!”

“What is it?” She asked murmuring, her eyes were operating on irritation and fatigue�"presenting similar to complexion of the sun coming to rest; over the past two nights proper sleep has been absent from her periodic activities. Marquis's manifestation shifted her plans. Since she had detached herself from him all the focus she had in his words, she now placed into God's word. All the time she spent in vain with him, she now entrusted it in the church. But since his arrival Kendra has been confused, thinking why did he now make his way back into her life?

     Afterwards the officer called her over to the desk to speak to her. She heightened her eyes to flutter the sleep away from them before making her way to him.

“Yes Sir?” She asked politely, but weary.

“You don't have to worry anymore; your problem is dealt with, Ma'am.”

“Wow that was fast. Where did you guys catch em?” She asked enthusiastically.

The officer came from behind the desk and approached Kendra. “We didn't.”

“Wait a second, you didn't what?” She asked with terror settling in her belly.

“I think you should have a seat” the man suggested. He snapped his fingers for an intern to bring him the chair from behind his desk.

Kendra waved it away “No, I'll stand.”

The intern continued to walk over with the chair above her head, until finally the officer signaled for her to stop.

“Well...we didn't catch him.”

“So what you mean I don't have to worry?”

“You sure you don't want to sit down?” The man asked with a grin.

She grew uncertain of the man's intentions “I said I was fine, now what's going on?”

“He's dead. Officers found his car giving a nice hug to a light-pole not too far from your apartment,” the officer said gratified. “His alcohol level was through the roof when they found him, and the coroner's report showed he didn't have long anyways. The man's liver was mutilated.”

     She started walking away overwhelmed.

“I didn't know they did autopsies that fast?” She muttered softly to herself.

“What was that?” The officer asked.

“I was saying that I didn't know they performed autopsies that fast. He couldn't have been dead no more than an hour or two.” She set forth for answers after conceiving that something was not factual. “What time was this?”

The officer began searching through the document, “It was reported at�"4:47pm.”

“Okay,” Kendra said before she completely came into reality. “Hold up! 4:47? That can't be right. I just saw him after my service, and that didn't end until well after five.”

He passed her the document “See for yourself.”

Kendra looked it over: Driver was intoxicated...vehicle collided with light pole on 22nd st...time of death 4:47pm, okay...date of death the 14th? “Wait, he died on the 14th?” She asked skeptically.

“Yes,” he said with confidence.

“That was two weeks ago. How is that possible when I just saw him no more than two hours ago?”

“Well, do you know an Ieshia?”

“Ieshia, Ieshia Wolfe?

“Yes.”

“Yeah, that's Marquis's sister. What about her?”

“She's who identified his body after he arrived. You look very tired,” the officer said discreetly. “Maybe you got him confused with�"someone else.”

“Maybe I did” Kendra said with a smile. However she just wanted to end the flustering conversation, and knew in heart it was Marquis that she laid eyes upon.

     Leaving the police station she made her way back to the church to see if Pastor Williams was still around. The iron gate was locked but the light in the sanctuary glared through the stain glass. As she was beginning to scream out to the pastor she heard her name being whispered. She did not know where it came from. So she chose to ignore it. But then her ears caught the voice again, and again. Soon it became too infectious for her to neglect.

So she answered back. “Who's there?”

“It's me” the voice whispered in response.

“I don't know any Mes', sorry,” she replied agitated.

She turned to see the light in the church blackened. With that the street lights began to shut off one by one. It started from both ends of the street; then the darkness made its way towards Kendra, within a matter of seconds she was encased in the shadows.

     She heard the voice again; only now it was not softly spoken.

“IT'S ME” the voice rumbled, and that phrase repeated with the same thunderous tone. Kendra stopped speaking back. She began to back into the iron gate. This gave her comfort from the unlighted area. Except when she reached the gate a hand touched down on her shoulder.

“It's me” a voice said. At that instant Kendra's voice introduced a scream that awakened the neighborhood. “Sister, it's me.” She turned around to find it was Pastor Williams. “Is everything okay?” She could not respond, her voice traveled from her body the moment the Pastor tapped her. “Come inside, it's freezing out here.” She agreed as she wrapped her arms around herself. Before following him inside she took another look at the street to see that everything was again illuminated, as well as the sanctuary

     They both walked inside the church�"however they did not get far before the pastor knew what Kendra's problem was; Pastor Williams had stopped walking, but Kendra continued�"she was infatuated with a mural that showed a man standing looking up into the heavens, with one leg mounted on Satan. Underneath it said “Sit thou on my right hand, till I make thine enemies thy footstool.” While reading the painting she bumped into him.

“I'm sorry�"”

“He's back isn't he? Or at least you think he is?”

“Yes, I knew I wasn't loosing it. So you saw him too?” Pastor Williams did not answer back. Yet smiled, and took a few steps before Kendra seized his hand. “Haven't you?” She asked.

“No, I haven't.”

“So how did you know about Marquis coming back?” Once again he did not respond, but took to his knees in front of the painting, and slipped into prayer.

      After he prayed he took possession of Kendra's hands. He took a deep breath after meditation and said “I'll put it this way. God gives us a list of things to occupy our thoughts; yours was freed long enough to be entered.”

“Entered by who?”

“The images you're receiving are not of Christ. Satan has his fingers moving through your head” the pastor said calmly. “Now Marquis is dead, and you have to let the dead bury the dead�"however your problem is bigger than him. The devil is playing with your thoughts.”

“But why?”

“To get you to fall away. To deceive you into thinking that he drives your life...not God. Because your thoughts produce actions, and your actions create habits, and those habits make up a way of living” he conveyed as he stepped closer to the mural. “And a life style not of Christ is a life style of his” he said then pointed at Satan in the painting.

“So what can I do? What should I do?” She asked.

“Keep your mind on your Lord and Savior. Don't allow your thoughts to drift away from him. Isaiah 26:3 says that thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee: because he trust in thee.”

“That's all?” She questioned.

“All I can do is provide what he's told me, it's up to you to provide the faith,” he said as he rubbed oil on her forehead. “Now I'm gonna pray with you before you leave, but the rest...is up to you.” Kendra received the prayer and made her way home thereafter.

     Nearing the final hour of the night Kendra jumped into the shower to wash away the day. She accepted the pastor's advice, however she imagined there involved more. She perceived that his solution was too easily obtained. She twisted the shower knob, though was startled by how cold the water sprung out. Kendra threw her hands in front of the water to shield her body. Usually the water became warm after a couple of seconds. Yet for some strange reason the water was not heating up. She felt the pipe leading to the shower, and was amazed to find it scorching. However the water rained on her frigidly. As she moved her hands back into position to block the water she could see herself casting shadows outside the shower. She's always radiated shadows before, but something seemed different this time. She turned off the water and began to wave her arms back and forth slowly. These shadows came off darker than they ordinarily do, and were more defined; too defined to be seen that way through the obscurity of the shower glass.

     The bathroom light commenced to flicker as if loosened. The tempo of the fluctuation was similar to applauses, snappy and decisive. During this time the shadow had inherited more dimness. She stepped closer to the glass to see what was developing with the light-bulb; but this time the emitted shadow did not move. Kendra did not take heed to this. Now the shadow set into motion. It moved away from the shower door becoming fainter. Kendra started to slide the door open when the shadow sprinted towards her. Then unexpectedly came to a disturbing collision with the glass. The vibration from the impact ruffled Kendra's hand free of the handle.

      When she lost her grip, her footing followed. She slipped in the lingering water and while lying on her back she heard the bathroom door slam shut. Using the handle once again she rose to her feet. Immediately upon getting up she was traumatized by the door. The glass was broken. The fractures journeyed six feet in stature, appearing as a freakish spider web. Kendra remembered what Pastor Williams said, and began placing her thoughts on God, not the situation.

      On Kendra's way to bed she could barely keep her eyes from collapsing. Ricocheting off the walls of the narrow hallway, she knew her balance was impaired considering the lack of sleep. At this point all she could think about was resting soundly in her bed. As she kept her eyes open momentarily she could see the guest room door cracking open and closing bit by bit. When she approached the door it hammered shut, nearly nailing her in the face. She opened the door, but it closed again. This time she turned the handle and kicked the bedroom door free. Directly in front of the door she saw that the window was open, and the curtains were blowing fluidly. The wind coming through the window was extremely cold, which was bizarre even for the night air to be that crisp. She walked over and dropped the window.

      Although it was not until after the fact that she wondered�"why the window was open to begin with? She knew without a doubt it was not her that opened it. She began to leave for bed when she heard the sound of dishes breaking in the kitchen. She ran to see what was going on when her face was whacked by an object at the doorway. Her vision went blank, and her eyes began to water. She started crawling to her feet when she felt wet blotches on the pine-wood floor. When she looked down she could follow a trail of blood. As she wiped her nose with the back of her hand she did not feel anything. But it was only when she stared at her palms did she see it. The old puncher wounds on her hands were now bleeding.

      She was surprised that what she thought was scars had reopened. Thinking to herself that she had been delivered from her past afflictions. Yet now, she knew she had not been. She realized that the things of old have opportunities of reverting, if not healed righteously. In her mind she started to recite the Lord’s Prayer. Our Father which art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. But as she was reciting it, she opened her eyes to see Marquis standing in the doorway. At that moment she started to cry out the prayer.

“Our Father which art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come�"”

Marquis charged her as she was kneeling on the floor “What are you doing? There is no God, only me.”

      Kendra ignored. She brought her bloody hands together and continued. “Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven.”

“Look at me,” he yelled. “LOOK!”

With her thoughts remained on Christ she kept stating the prayer. “Give us this day our daily bread.” She said as blood leaked on the pine-wood.

“How can you love someone you can't see? That's one hell of a long distance relationship. Only I'm here, so look at me, talk to me, love me” Marquis said persuasively. “I'm sorry about hitting you, I really am. Just talk to me.”

Kendra then halted the prayer, which brought a smile to Marquis's face. But she took in a deep breath and continued “and forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.”

Marquis plucked her from the floor and held her in the air. “You'll never forget me. I spared your life,” he said violently. “That shows love, what love has he shown you?”

“For thine is the kingdom, and the power,” she conveyed with joy.

“Answer me stupid” he yelled as he shook her.

“And the glory...forever” she said as she felt her feet come down to the hardwood. Marquis had vanished as well as the wounds on her hands. Her thoughts now only contained one aspiration, and her house was no longer lukewarm�"but heartfelt; she fell once again to her knees thankful, because at last, she knew she was at peace.

Author's Note

Grammatical errors, Change of tense, and concept!