The beating of broken wings

A childhood ripped apart by the fangs of an abuser, tears fall down the cracks of her exterior.

I'm sitting here and I'm watching her, I know she senses me; I know she can feel me. I know this, because she knows this. I see her reaching for all the things that represent everything I loathe about who it is I am, it disgusts me. Though I know she is disgusted, I also know that there is a sick fascination with what she is doing. I hate it, I hate me, I hate her most of all.

Here I am; weakened and useless against the power she has over me, I want to stand and scream against her iron hand. I want to use the strength lent to me by those I have picked up on the path to destruction and spit into her demonic face with the anger of the neglected. I want to throw at her the pain of the abused and see how she copes. But I don't, I sit here and I wait for the moment to come when she will hand back the control, give me back the reigns and stay a whispering devil of warped conscious.

She stops reaching and I know it is time. We walk together, in sync for once, for this time I need what she needs. Though for different reasons to her warped ones. We reach our porcelain lover and sink to our knees as if in prayer. Leaning over I see her in the reflection, pupils dilated, fangs protruding from bloodied lips, hollowed cheeks and carved sunken eye sockets. It disgusts me; she lets me feel what she feels. My, our, fingers are down our throat before it can be absorbed. The retching tears a hole of agony through our heart. We do not stop until everything is gone. Standing she recedes, I am me again, I have control. Run my tongue along my teeth, they are no longer razors; they shall not rip into my carcass. I see black spots dance like tribal bodies across my vision.

Now she is shaking, or is it me; I do not know; I become confused as the boundaries between realms are blurred by anxiety, it is real this paranoia, it is a physical force and it follows me around. Constantly, constantly watching for that wrong footfall where the stone shall come loose and I will fall into oblivion, obscured by her vision they will see a suicide. Even though I am trying I promise I am trying.

I told her I was trying and that I didn't need her anymore. I felt the wings on my back flutter as I said this, they were not broken, and for those few minutes I could have flown upon the wind of defiance and nobility. For those few minutes I was worth something, I was representational of all those who had been oppressed I was the voice of every tear shed on the loss of anyone who would care. I spread my feathered back in its symbolic meaning but her maniacal laughter permeated my pores before I could jump.

I realized the illusion and shaking my head felt the blood seep through the matted feathers, the veil lifted and looking around I noticed the pool of failure. I saw it around me, I was sinking into it with an ethereal elegance and for those few minutes it was beautiful; so beautiful and I didn't want to be healthy. Content with the vile hatred that diseased my putrid heart I lay there, not wanting the perfect wings. Pointless little necessities; who needs to fly when you can drown? This way is so much easier, so much less painful, because with every flight there is a fall. If I start from the bottom I can never topple from the top in a flurry of disappointment. Descend to the floor in despair in the filth of your own downfall.

I crawl into the mouth of darkness and am obliterated, the light disappears and I am completely and utterly alone. My forked tongue comes out and I taste the isolation; it is bitter and hateful. I smile, fangs bared; she is coming out to play. I laugh; it sounds insane, I love it I yearn for it, the insanity is my escape. It is a twisted beauty of disillusioned creatures and I am one of them and I belong, obliviousness is my disguise and I join the ranks of naivety. It is bliss and I embrace it.

But slowly, slowly the cobwebs linger, they creep upon the edge of my vision, blurring my outlook. It is the fatigue crawling within me. Dark and dank it drains me of my life and leaves me a shell, without the energy or desire to pull myself from the ground I turn to stone, forever stuck within the earth. My eyelids droop with the weight of holding up my spidery friends, they are so heavy, burdening me with their childish anxieties. It is a frivolous exercise to try and fight them off because their webs of silk and diamond merely slice through my wanton flesh. I am a failure; I can feel it within me dragging down my limbs with a force that matches her grasping, biting fangs.

The one who slaps me with the whip of a thousand, smacks even the dark one inside of me into submission. She whispers behind her range snickering and insulting, it catches me in the middle of their hatred and spins me in circles. Dizzy I stumble to the floor and empty my contents. The scavengers swarm and pick at the horror; I sit despondently staring at the scene.

Disconnected I feel not their beaks; they think I have fallen into the pits of fire. I shall not correct them. I lay back and serve myself up to be consumed. Days, weeks, months, years, I know not how long I have been here. I know not what has happened to the me that lies beyond this desert of memories.

I have walked around in circles watching the past betray me over and over again. I don’t recognize my hands, their sharpened nails mock me, I barely recognize the girl who waits and cries beneath the rigid stare of her abuser. Is that me? I cannot tell any longer, filled with cotton wool my mind has turned against me. I see her and I see me, the me that I think has taken over my body, not the me that is trapped within the sands of time. I sit and I wait and I think.

I remember everything; it hurts more than the black hole that once filled the gap, because I am ruined. I am confused, watching, feeling her hands upon my soft malleable body. Discomfort crept upon me as she brought my hand to her flesh. I didn’t want it there, I wanted it gone, I didn’t want that revulsion to be attached to my virginity. I wanted it gone. But as I pulled back her expression turned furious, flames entered her eyes and she smacked me. Dazed I fell backwards down into my prison, as she took over for me, letting me weep in obliviousness.

But I was no longer that young one, now she believed me to be ready to witness what that serpent brought upon us. The memories cut through my already scarred surface, going deeper, twisting in my gut. I wanted to pick up my serrated edge and bury it within this humiliation. I wanted to burrow within the earth and cover up my façade with the dirt of this land. Let the mud and oil worm its way inside. Real earth to clog the hateful workings whirring in anger against my piteous contemplations.

But for now I slip into my coma, safe within the monsters mouth I lay, carefully wrapped around the lonely girl inside. I shan’t let the dirt of the world touch her, nor shall I touch her myself. Merely entwine the light I still have around her innocence until I have nothing left but darkness and fear. I will walk into the bowels of this demon leaving her by the entrance; I shall sacrifice myself for her escape. Maybe she will find a beauty to sink her roots into, she will flourish into someone I could never have dreamed of becoming. Through her I shall find my freedom, rid of me she shall find her light.

I will battle the one inhabiting my husk; with matted bloodied feathers I shall bat away her fangs of deceit. I will loose, but I will lose in the knowledge that I fought for my freedom. She shall rip off my wings and fill out my skeleton as I dwindle into the recesses to sleep forever.

But with a smile on my face the rain shall pour from the heavens and cover me with its purity, washing away the ruby petals of hatred, my anger peels from the bud of my rebirth.

Reviews

[Color of the Iris]

Wow, this was a very beautiful story. It was dark, dramatic, and very wonderful! I enjoyed reading this very much. I could feel the depth of your story in my own core, and I actually want to read more!!!