|Dancing with Demons
||[Jul. 25th, 2006|09:19 pm]
It happened as if it was a dream; maybe that's all it ever was. Maybe that is all my life has ever been. One long, nightmarish dream that sometimes seemed beautiful. Maybe I will never know, now...
I don't know where I found it; where I found the number, buried amongst bloodstained love letters and dried orchids, a phone number scrawled in a spidery hand long, long ago, on a matchbook from a bar that is no longer standing:
Shadow - 381-0666
Shadow. Goddess, I knew someone named Shadow, once? I barely remember meeting him. I close my eyes a moment and see a whip-thin boyish demon in blood-red leather pants, cruel mouth, laughing with Nick, with Flint Cassidy, one of those long-ago parties. Drug-drenched and often barely standing, eyes green as poison, as real as Celeste's were not.
And they glowed in the dark. Especially when he made me cry.
I remember now.
My hand is shaking as I dial the number. I get another number from the gruff voice who answers, and I write it down, next to the old one. I light a cigarette with one of the matches in the book. Inhale.
...taking your poisons, transforming them, saving you but losing my own fight in the madness
I dial this last number. After that, things move too quickly for me to stop them.
He laughs when he hears my voice, and I am sickened as I ask for what he has. He agrees to come that night, and I pace the house, smoking, hardly noticing the tears coursing down my face.
At first I think it is my heart, and I jump, and then my heart does start to pound when I realize who must be at the door.
What I am about to do.
I need to know what holds you in thrall, my darling, Nick, what drug courses through your veins so that you are afraid to live, afraid to feel anything but that? Maybe if I understand, I can heal us both. Maybe I can transform the poisons...
And maybe, maybe they will just kill me as they are slowly killing you.
I feel like a fraud. My magic is all gone.
I feel like a fool.
After, my body lies in bed, there but not-there, detached, watching Shadow swagger into my bathroom, naked, without looking back. The water starts to run.
My body feels bruised, broken, a wilted, filthy rose lost in a gutter. The needle lies next to me, on the nightstand, like a dull viper, metallic and deadly.
For this you sell your soul? You use what beauty you have left...for this?
Poison. Poison apples, thorns on roses, finger prick. Opium dreams. Poppies dusting powder.
Poppies broken and bleeding.
It hurts to breathe.
No one will be here to kiss you awake
The water turns off, and he walks into the room, pulls on those red leather pants, stands above me, shirtless. He says nothing, and I stare back at him. Pinned like a butterfly.
I see the lust mingled in with the swaggering pride, the disgust, in me? In himself?
Though I forever wonder what beauty I could possibly have left, to make men look twice at me anymore...how I can still use it at all.
Shadow tosses another little packet down, next to the syringe. I flinch.
"You more than paid for it, babe" he says, a sneer in his smile. I turn away, close my eyes, lie there until I hear his boots pounding
the way he pounded into me
pounding down the stairs, the door slam, the roar of the bike as it speeds away. It must be getting close to midnight, now.
Like a dream...
What we sacrifice. Is it worth all this?
Nick, I don't know where you are, I don't know how to find you, I don't know if you even want me anymore. But I need to know. What is stronger than love? Drugs? Magic? Hate?
I am so tired of trying to go down a road with no one beside me. I can't make everything all right with teas, with potions, with paint.
Not even with love.
So maybe your medicines are what I need. Maybe if I travel down myself I can come up with the answer.
I get up slowly from the tangled bed that smells of smoke, of blood. Demons. I take down the lace from the mirror, and catch a glimpse of my face reflected back in the light of the candle there, and I pause. My eyes burn, my hair is wild, my skin so pale...a bruise on my left shoulder, purple as my eyes.
I am almost beautiful. I almost see what they see...
I tear a strip of lace with my teeth, sit naked and shivering on the edge of the bed.
So strange how it all comes back to me now. Like it hasn't been years since the last time...
Tie it tight around my upper arm, making the skin even whiter. My shaking hand holds up the syringe. I wouldn't let Shadow do this to me, see me this way. I did not use this to dull the pain of what I did with him. I saved this for when I was alone.
Who am I fooling? I was always alone
I gasp as I feel the needle bite into the soft flesh at my inner elbow. Blood swirling, mixing with this poison heaven, hell, nothing. I don't know if it's too much, but it's too late to worry about that now. I stretch across the bed, half-wrapped in the sheet.
Warmth, radiating from my core, but I'm shivering with it, curling into myself. My breath feels light, so light, my body insubstantial. Maybe I have grown wings...maybe my roots have planted themselves further into the earth, iris, orchid, rose...no longer myself...flowers. The root of love...
When I close my eyes I'm not sure when or if I will be opening them again, but I promise myself I will remember these last thoughts, even if I am taking them with me to another place.
I feel as if I am spinning, spiraling, down, down...
My eyes snap open and I hear a little cry. Was that me?
All of a sudden, I am terrified. What have I done? But the world begins to grey out and I shiver, wrapped in the sheets. Too late. Frantically hoping...for what? I can't name it.
But I do anyhow.
Nick...wherever you are...oh, goddess, I am so sorry...