Cuts

(No worries folks, I'm not snapping or anything like that. Just started writing away and this is what I got- comments, suggestions always welcome)


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I sat trembling in a corner the first time I saw her. Shaking and miserable, I occupied a rough stool in a dismal corner of the bar; my location fit my mood, miserable. The medications hadn't been working in weeks and I simply had no energy to continue living. I was a lost, barren soul drinking a few lousy drinks in a smelly dive before I threw my wretched self into the river. I thought a few gin and tonics would give me the courage to end things. When seven drinks hadn't done the trick, I started to worry that I would be trapped in my misery forever. Anger and depression were my only companions and even those feelings had left me. I ordered another drink, not caring that I didn't have enough money to pay for it.

I'd love to say that I had a brilliant childhood, full of hopes and dreams. Well, I could lie about it, but I won't. I was that lonely miserable kid that slunk down hallways and disappeared into the fading sunset. I was the girl with the stringy hair and the ungainly gait. Friends were a figment of my imagination, fantastic souls that only lived in the deep recesses of my wrinkled brain. I was, and hell, still am nobody. I had hope of being normal for a while, after an accident sent me to the emergency room. One kindly nurse seemed to believe that I was depressed, that maybe I needed some medication to help me live a better life. I'm not certain how she came to that conclusion, maybe it was all the scars along my veins. I was bored, I went along with it for a while. A few milligrams of this, and gram or so of that. I can't say that I felt better. The void never went away, but the cold stopped hurting so bad. I suppose it was an improvement. I tried writing for a while, still riding the medicated wave. It never panned out, I just wasn't creative enough, or so I was told.

So, at twenty two years of age, I sat in a rank establishment and soaked up alcohol in the hopes that I would become brave enough to kill myself. Pathetic, no? Wallowing in misery, I looked around at the other patrons and tried to imagine their sob stories. Red, sweaty faces sucked on cheap cigarettes and wrinkled around crusty words as they tried vainly to impress one another. I scanned the crowd, looking for someone to latch onto for the evening. Obviously, I wasn't going to kill myself off and I didn't have anywhere to go. Some meaningless physical exertion would at least get me a bed for the night. The bar was dotted with old men, learing over their drinks and puffing their cancer sticks. Disappointed, I turned back towards the bar and focused on how I would escape without paying. The bartender didn't seem to care, but my luck was never that good.

The door creaked open, groaning its protest for all to hear. I looked up at the noise, annoyed with its piercing intrusion. I looked up and I saw her. She swayed into the bar, a deafening hush preceeding her. Everyone turned to stare at the new arrival, and all were too dumb to speak. It wasn't that she was stunningly beautiful, although she was attractive. The bar patrons, myself included, were beaten into submission by her powerful presence. She strolled nonchalantly to the bar and leaned across the weatherbeaten surface, whispering softly to the bartender. She waited patiently as the bar's master nodded towards a table in the back of the filthy place. Not that I've ever strayed across the fencepost, but I couldn't help staring at the woman's body. It was soft, vibrant, utterly enticing. I found my mind clearing away the depressed clutter that decorated it; I was surprised to realize that I wanted this woman. Not that I was alone in that venture, the silent air of the bar indicated that everyone in the place found her as fascinating as I seemed to. I shook my head and turned back to my stolen drink. I sipped at the cool, clear liquid and wished for the emptyness that made my life simple. As I sat, a slender arm slipped across my view and well manicured fingers wrapped around one of the few napkins in the joint. Soft waves of lavender drifted upwards, violating my senses. I leaned back a little, almost as surprised by the intrusion as I was by the presence of a napkin in such a dive. Immediately, the strange woman stepped closer. She offered no introduction, no names, nothing. She merely smiled and slid one, long finger along my jaw. I gasped, shocked by the power of her sensual caress. It was an alien sensation to me and I had no idea how to react. The woman let a long smile slip across her face before she turned away. My heart raced while my brain muddled on. I had no idea what I was feeling or why. Confusion was the order of the evening. I no longer cared about the river or my scars or my miserable life. I felt something, a deep ripple of warmth that snapped through my body and soul. Shocked, I sat motionless for God only knows how long. Mustering something of courage, I stood up. I had to escape, I didn't like what I was feeling. I didn't want to let anyone inside. I didn't want to be treated like a human; I wanted nothing more than to be the grimy little girl that everyone ignored. This woman was a threat to my simple way of life. The bartender cleared his throat, shaking his head. He pointed at the seat and clearly indicated that I wouldn't be leaving any time soon. Defeated, I slumped back down on the bar stool. He poured another drink, slid it before me and told me that I would soon understand everything.

It was a peculiar thing to say. Perhaps not for a bartender, really they are the sanitation engineers for the human soul. Sure, pastors and priests shoulder the confessions of their human congregation. But, bartenders are saturated with the unfettered slop of human emotion and sin; nasty particles of inhumanity freed by the lubricant known as alcohol. Crappy existance, if you ask me and I am pretty much the expert on wayward lives. I tried to raise the courage to ask the bartender what he meant, but, the shock of our unexpected guest had worn off and crackling voices once again thundered through the room. I closed my lips and tried to shake off the last tingling sensations clinging to my body. I looked around the bar, I guess I was hoping to catch a glimpse of the woman. My eyes scanned the darkened room, finally coming to rest at a table in the back corner. She sat with a lone man. She was elegant, he was a drooling fool. We made eye contact, her and I, and the warmth wriggled its way back into my body. I quickly looked away, only to find the bartender smirking at me. He filled another glass, this one with water, and placed it before me. He flashed a toothy grin, his canine teeth so long they passed the bottom line of his lip. I blinked, certain that I had imagined that. I stared at him for long moments, but his attentions were elsewhere.

A cool hand pressed against the small of my back, energy coursing through my thin shirt and into my trembling body. I knew it was her. Without a word, I stood and followed her from the bar and into the cold, moist night. The noise of the bar evaporated behind me, as did my worries and fears. For some reason, I was supremely calm in this woman's presence. I walked meekly behind her, followed in turn by the grinning dolt that she had been conversing with. He wrapped a hard arm around my waist and slurred something leacherous in my ear as beer almost ooozed from his very pores. Our guide whirled around and waved us into a long, dark vehicle. The man entered first, whistling wolfishly and commenting on the regal conveyance. I slid across the soft, leather seat and became unconfortably aware of my shabby dress. Our hostess gracefully entered, sitting next to the man and whispering in his ear. The vehicle began to move and the two across from me engaged in a most intimate dance. Embarrassed, I looked out the window and wondered why I was involved at all. A noise, bizzare even for human coupling, drew my attention back inside the volumous car. Across from me was such a strange sight. My hostess clung mightily to her mate, mouth wrapped tightly around his flexing neck. The man's mouth opened and closed several times, his face screwed up with obvious pain. His breaths came in short gulps as his arms flailed wildly. I looked into his eyes, watching in rapt horror as the life drained from them. In moments, it was over. My hostess pushed the corpse away and turned her attentions to me. My body quaked, my mind reeled. Although I had strongly considered death a few scant hours earlier, I suddenly had every desire to live. I lunged towards the door handle, well aware that I light kill myself trying to escape from the speeding vehicle. Oh well, at least it would be on my terms. Before I could move, she was upon me. I fought and screamed, pushing hard against her body. She grasped my face and kissed me deeply. Shocked, I ceased my feeble resistance. Warmth crept along my extremities, crashing along my body. I could taste the hot, metallic blood that lingered in along her lips and it suddenly fascinated me. Her lips moved from mine, trailing soft kisses along my cheek and jaw. I closed my eyes as I felt her tongue lap gently against the pounding vein in my neck. And I gasped in pain as her teeth punctured my skin. She suctioned hard, pulling my life essence from my veins and I did nothing to resist. I relished the pain as it overtook my body. I shook violently, deriving such pleasure from her torment. The pain made me feel alive, invigorated, energized more than the simple cuts along my arms ever had. I screamed in agony, thanking her for making me feel before I collapsed in a cold heap on the floor board. My vision grew dim and I watched her lick her lips before tearing at her own wrist. Darkness clawed at me, pulling me into its frigid embraced and holding me to its deadly bossom. I felt pressure against my lips, then warmth as her rich blood drained into my mouth. At first, I turned away, only to find myself driven to return to her offering. I suckled deeply, like a starving babe until she pulled her wrist away from me. The self-inflicted wound on her arm sealed itself as I watched. She pulled me back onto the seat beside her, wrapping a heavy blanket around my shivering body. My head in her lap, I drifted towards the bizarre world of dreams knowing only one thing for certain. The bartender had been right, I did understand.