The chosen Pessimist

“Dionysus has me in his claws.”  I stated simply, my eyes dancing in a cocaine induced frenzy, “everyone knows he’s the source of ecstasy, personal delivery from the daily world through physical or spiritual intoxication.” I flicked open and closed the tiny gold locket that hung around my frail neckline.

“And you,” I laughed dryly, “you are my Set.” Dark shadows crawled along the walls but when I stole a sideways glance there was nothing but empty space.

 

                Landon watched me intensely through dilated pupils as I bent over a line I had chopped moments earlier. A sleek wave of hair tumbled down over my shoulders and I let it cascade like a honey blonde curtain around my face. Tears sprang to my eyes and I blinked them away without a second thought.

 

Cocaine made me confide my most inner thoughts, the ones I normally censored through in my head before spilling, for Landon it was just the opposite; he locked away his inner voice and swam with it in the tumbling madness of his mind.

 

                I wiped at my running nose and let a crooked half smile spread on my face. “You’re my Set.” I repeated once again. “Temptation.” I wiped my finger along the mirrors edge and examined the white powder closely. “Play the good or evil part.” His grin matched mine although he didn’t know what I meant as he leaned on one elbow, smoothing the worn comforter atop my mattress absently.

                “Tell me which side I’m on,” I locked eyes with him, both pairs alike in their dull grey shade

“What do you mean, side of what? He asked only half interested.

I rolled my eyes and sighed impatiently, “I’m approaching constant failure Landon.”

               

Landon sat up straight and leaned over his remaining line of coke, looking at the contents intently. “Who is friend or foe?” He asked confirming and I nodded. He was thoughtful, “Well, in many ways I’m the burden that divides us from the light.” He answered with brutal honesty.

                I leaned back onto the mattress, lying with my hands behind my head considering his answer carefully, “But in many ways you’re the halo that keeps my spirit alive.” My dilemma. He glanced over at me for a moment before bending his head to inhale some more of the drug and I sighed.

                With him, I knew the drug for us would never end. “Between love and hate, which path to follow?” I whispered softly to myself staring up at the stucco ceiling, brown water stains spreading from the two closest corners. How long until the damage becomes too much for the drywall and it bursts from being weakened?

 

                Landon lay back beside me, turning his head so we were looking at each other, “Amused by the trials and tribulations.” He stated easily and I knew he referred to me. I rolled over on top of him, holding myself up with an extended elbow on either side of his familiar body.

                I glanced sideways at the large purple, swollen bruise that semi-circled my wrist and could almost feel the blood throbbing like it had yesterday when the bruise was formed. “How can I keep balance in this race?” I asked scanning his face for a tell of emotion. I could feel his cool breath against my warm skin and goose bumps erupted along my arms.

               His chest rose and fell gently, “Play the good or evil part.” He answered simply without really knowing to what complex question my mind had brought to surface that he was answering. He raised his hand to tuck my long hair out of my face.

                 “It’s not that simple.” I shook my head, “With me, you evoke the dark.” Landon let out a patient sigh and grabbed my wrists and I winced when he clasped my bruise. He pulled my hands up above his head to the pillows that rested above us. I let my body weight rest on top of him, looking in his eyes for an answer.

               

“Faith-“ He began but I cut him off by shaking my head. I hated when he used my real name and he always did when we were high. “What do you want?” He asked softly. He used his thumbs to wipe away the smudged eyeliner from under my eyes.

                I shrugged my shoulders although I was now sure of what I wanted, “Erase the free will and watch me heal.”

                He frowned, I knew he wanted to end the conversation, he always said I sounded bazarre when I was high and let my mind take over. “But you’re my chosen pessimist.” He held my head in his hands and kissed me hard on the lips.

                 “You’re my Set.” I said when he he released my lips.

Landon’s eyebrows furrowed, “Who is Set?”

A smile broke across my face, “Set; the Egyptian God who tricked Osiris into being sealed up in his own coffin.” I let my fingers slide under the pillow, “You’re my Set.” I repeated once again, “Which makes me Osiris.” A look of puzzlement crossed Landon’s face as he tried to get up on his elbows. I brought my hands out from under the pillow and pressed the cold barrel up to his temple and he sunk back into the mattress.

 

His dilated eyes grew wide after a moment of realisation and a tear collected on my bottom lid, “I love you, I really do.” I said honestly, struggling to fight the tears. His familiar eyes, short, unkempt hair, faint scruffy stubble from not shaving. I would miss the love of my life, I cared for him wholly, but not more then I cared for myself.

“What are you doing?” He asked, choking out an awkward laugh, “okay, joke’s over Faith.” I needed to get out of my coffin.

I shook my head, “I asked you; between love and hate, which path to follow.”

Panic creased his forehead, “But why?”

I cocked back the hammer and pressed my lips hard against his for one last kiss, “Because if I survive I fly from here, but as the Chosen pessimist.”

I squeezed the trigger.

                               

Author's Note

Inspiration from the song "The chossen Pessimist" by In Flames. Lots of subtle, hidden meaning tangled up in here, you be the judge of what stoy is being told.

Reviews

[Randolf Ramos]

That gives a thrill, every scene leads to the next

[Hi]

It is very mysterious and dark, but interesting at the same time!

[Steven Norton]

very interesting and delightfully dark. you are one of my favorite writers i've ever known

Definitely not my cup of tea, but this was good. Just watch your spelling in this bit: "he always said I sounded bazaar when I was high and let my mind take over." "bazaar" should spelt as "bizarre". That's all the criticism I have. Good job.

[Tate Morgan]

I am not qualified to rate stories and dont write them because i cant keep thoughts together for that long however I can relate to the story of cocaine I had a bout with the white devil myself once

[Fabian G. Franklin]

I was hoping for maenads, satyrs and a good orgy and all I got was the gun. lol Oh, incidently, one c***s the "hammer" not the trigger on a handgun. Nice write.

[James Paulin]

Heavy. Drugs differentiate views, then a gun. You wrote very well. I found it easy to visualize.