Narcissus and Dischordia

a tale of dysfunction and misfortune

the moon hung low and full in the crushed velvet sky, clouds like silver mist cradling its underbelly. the days have grown shorter, and the air crisper, causing the stars to glitter like ice splinters. they remind me of the cold sparkle of a bad idea, a meteor flash against dark irises. i pull my limbs closer to my body and try not to shiver, though i cannot tell if it's the chill in the air that is making me cold, or a chill in the soul. perhaps it doesn't much matter. here they seem to be one and the same.

at the top of the gently banked hill spreads a wild cherry sapling. young by the standards of twig and leaf, but still far older than my short years, and under its spreading branches is where i am tucked.the bank of the hill spills over onto a small stretch of beach, and below i can smell the beach roses that tangle and spill like a natural barricade. soon enough, the rose petals will shrivel and fade, replaced by strange red fruit. i can already see the edges of the cherry leaves starting to curl and go rusty with age. i tuck into myself further, hugging my knees to my chest, as i watch a single leaf torn by the breeze, flutter softly to rest at my feet.

it is then i realize i'm not wearing any shoes. in fact, in spite of the rapidly dropping temperature, i am clad only in a pair of mens boxer shorts, and a loose fitting rag of a tee shirt. looking down again, i realize that i am also clad in a number of angry red scratches that zig zag accross my bare flesh. i start to wonder where they came from, when a flash of blue lights and siren come from somewhere in the darkness behind me. on auto pilot, i slide down the face of the hill towards the water and duck into the rose bushes.

a thorn catches my bare flesh, tearing, and leaves a small scratch accross my thigh. as i watch the blood slowly well up, i remember where the ladder work of scratches came from.

above me, the white beam of a searchlight scans the tree i was just sitting under. i hear voices, but i cannot make them out over the distance and the sound of the waves rolling in a few feet away. when they seem to grow closer, i pull farther into the rose bushes, praying the leaves will swallow me up, and hoping the thorns will be kind. a flashlight plays up and down the sand, just missing the tangle of leaves i am shivering beneath, and another joins it from the opposite direction. i can feel the adrenaline start to pump as i watch the two beams of light slide past, seeming to dance with one another. they seem to mock me as with each pass they miss my hiding place by mere inches. the adrenaline is pumping so hard now it feels as though there are a million burning butterflys beating their crumbling wings against my heart. my breath grows shallow, and i can feel a sheen of sweat, sick with fear, form against my skin.

silently, i curse myself and the chain of events that has left me shivering with cold and fear. i absent mindedly rub my forearm, and then stop to look at the scratches that cover it. among the shallow scratches left by the rose bushes, are a few slightly larger, slightly deeper ones. i rub these, and again curse myself. if i didn't know any better, i would think that they too, were inflicted by the rose bushes. perhaps a particularly clumsy attempt at hiding within.

but i know better.

in fact, they are the reason i am hiding by the beach in the first place. the reason i ran outdoors poorly dressed and unshod. the reason there are now cruisers rolling up and down the beach, blues flashing a silent stacatto. the reason for the un choreographed waltz of flashlights accross the sand. the reason that somewhere, i hear someone calling my name.

i suddenly realize the flashlights are gone, and once more all i can hear is the gentle crashing of waves upon sand. as the adrenaline ebbs off, and my thoughts come more clearly, i realize how stupid all of this is. even if i were to call it a night, and sleep right here in the roses, eventually i would need to go home. and as soon as i did that, another phone call would be made.

i drag myself out of the bushes, and after idly contemplating the humor of their latin name, rosa rugosa, i start to climb back up the hill to the street. i certainly feel rugged right about now. or maybe haggard is a better word.

there are no police vehicles in sight when i reach street level, so i turn toward home. if theyre are anywhere at this point, i know thats where they must be. i am confident, that if they heard my side of the story, they would understand, and curse myself again, for not thinking of that before i ran.

i am dimly aware that running might have damaged my case, but at this point i am ready to face those consequences.

i finally reach my street, and sure enough, there is a police cruiser parked in front of the apartment complex. i feel the adrenaline surge one last time, but i push it under. all that remains of it when i walk towards the police officer is a slight tremble of the hands, a slight tremor of the voice.

i identify myself, and climb into the back of the cruiser as the officer requests. when i look out the window, i see my boyfriend chatting with the officer for a moment, before flashing me a triumphant grin. i quell a surge of anger that boils within me, reminding myself i still hadn't gotten a chance to explain my side of the story.

a little while later, in a comfortable hospital bed, with warm blankets fresh from the dryer, and a cold can of pepsi, i got my chance.

 

 there was the possesions destroyed, and the bruises inflicted. the broken nose and the death threats. the late night fights and the insults, but most of all, the overwhelming sense of helplessness and need to escape. coupled with my boyfriends need to chase me down wherever i went, it had all led me down the convenient path of inevitable self destruction. i assured them i was no longer suicidal and awaited their response.

 

three hours later, i was back in the police cruiser, being transported home, where my unhappy boyfriend waited.

 

 

 

 

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Reviews

[apple]

oh i love your style of writing i love it xD

its a sad and true story *.*