Wednesday, March 02, 2005

He comes to her at night. She has been waiting for him in the darkness. Her legs feel numb and her knees ache from kneeling for so long. She has been waiting for this moment for such a long time. In the moonlight from her window, she sees his form in the doorway and her heart begins to race. He steps toward her, caressing her cheek, and helps her to stand up. She smiles as he places the blindfold around her eyes.

He takes a moment to admire her nakedness. He places candles in a wide circle around her. He lights each wick in turn. The room is now dimly lit. It is enough for him to see every mole on her body. Enough for him to see the work he is about to create. He slips a knife from his pocket. The handle is the perfect fit for his hand. The blade glints orange in the candlelight as he raises his arm.

Vertically down her arm he slices. Her blood runs in delicate little rivulets onto the plastic-lined floor. He cuts another line, and another. Each one very quick and simple, the red taking a moment to collect in the deep scratches.

Both arms complete, he moves to her torso. Starting just below her jawline, he makes more vertical incisions down to her pelvis. She stands in a pool of crimson. He sees her lips trembling and her body starts to waver. He kisses her firmly on the mouth and she regains her resolve to go through with this. It is what she wanted. It is what he can give her.

He walks around to her back, noting that despite her bodily imperfections, she is still perfect. His hands are now coated in slick red gloves but he still continues to streak her flesh with his blade.

Her legs, though shaky, hold their positions as he moves down to perform on them. She is in excruciating pain by this point but she knows the hurting is almost over and soon she will live again.

Lovingly, he peels away the strips of her skin. Each section is cut in perfect vertical lines. She can feel the resistance her body gives to losing its outside protection. She can feel the resistance her mind gives to her losing her last coat of armour. After this, he will have all of her and she will never be able to hide anything ever again. She chose this. She wanted this. She knew it would hurt. If only she had known how much. She can feel her blood, slimy between her toes. She can smell her sweat and she can feel her salty tears on her cheeks and the fiery sting they make when the fall onto her bleeding breasts.

At last, he has stripped her of her last piece of skin. She is fully exposed now. She is damp and pink, like a newborn baby. He takes her to the bed and lays her down, running his fingers over her new skin. Her hands join his in exploring her new body. She marvels in what he had created.

She was once a lost and broken creature who didn't know which direction to turn in. She had been going through her life perfectly fine, but always with the tiny feeling that something was missing. Together, they had recreated her into something beautiful and new. She knew who she was and she knew what she was doing now. She had him to support her and to never lead her astray. She had direction in her life. She was a clean slate. She was his. They had created her together and, through the years of pain, she knew it was what she needed. She knew she was no longer lost.

~this is a work of fiction. it is entirely metaphorical. please do not attempt this~

*link du jour* Left Brain, Right Brain: so we're really not as complicated as we think (link is worksafe). I tried it and, if done at the speed of a sloth + a snail, I can make my foot continue its path. Otherwise, I can't do it. Can any of you? JeN's mind ejaculated @ 11:04 p.m. | | permalink