She was close to me. So very close. None had ever gotten so close. I had never allowed it. Her body is next to mine, within mine, the hairs on hers tickling, tangling, meshing with mine. Her hand is massaging my chest, playing, twisting, combing the mesh, the patch of hair there. Feels wonderful. Feels so very relaxing. So very peaceful. I can think of no other place I'd rather be. There is no such a place. I am home. I love her.
A tinge of pain, a shock to the system. My vision of Eden crumbling. I glance down, a flash of red drawing my attention. Blood. Her fingernails are digging in. The pain so unreal. I try to scream out, but my voice is gone. If I ever even had it. I watch as her fingers disappear beneath, into my skin. The river flowing down my body is growing thicker, deeper, darker. I fight off the feigntness, not wanting to succumb to this death. I feel her hand squeeze between my rib cage, and gently, hah, gently I say, push my ribs aside, making her passage wider. The pain is all but gone, though I know it's still there. My mind can't comprehend what it's feeling, what my body is going through. And what my mind can't comprehend frightens me even more. I feel the hair on the back of my neck rise. My eyes desiring to roll to the back of my head. Yet I fight this feeling. I want to, I must see my demise.
I feel as if I'm watching a movie, or in the least, watching this all transpire to someone else. I notice her hand grip around something, I know what, but I don't wish to know. With a sharp jerk, her hand slowly starts to emerge from the crevice in my chest. Red, everything is red. All I see is red. Her hand, her fingers, her nails, the still beating organ grasped within. Red.
I stand dumbfounded as my heart is dropped to the ground. I hear a laugh, sinister, evil, a laugh of glee, of torture. She laughs as she turns around and slowly walks away, leaving me alone. So very alone. My body starts to crumble of it's own accord, numbness finally over-taking it. I feel cold, like the world around me is giving up, losing all hope, forgetting me. I want to pray, but nothing comes to mind, so I just lay there, drowning in a pool of my own. Just lying there, staring at the heart. My heart. At least once.
I feel a presence. Another person. She is upon me in an instance, holding me, brushing the long tangled, matted hairs from my face. She reaches down with a kiss, I feel alive. She sits there cradling me, as we listen to my heart continue to beat on. She points at it and smiles. I smile back. So much pain. So much comfort. Happiness. I feel as if my heart continues to beat, if only for her. I love her.
Her smile, her precious smile of hope, of peace, gone. As sudden as she had come, her smile vanishes, leaving just a frown. No use. No point. No love. She lays me back into my puddle of madness, making sure I'm facing the heart. The still beating heart. My heart, laying in it's own ever-expanding sea of blood. If it was still inside me, I know it would surely stop of it's own accord after all this. But it's not, so all I can do is lay there. Lay there and watch. Lay there and dream of peace. Or of death.
And as if saying to me, telling me not to give up, never give up hope, the heavens above me part and a light shines down upon me. I feel warmth from the ray, tranquility. Love. I watch as a shadow emerges from the clouds and plummets down upon me, gracefully, lovingly. I feel her arms wrap around me, her voice telling me truths, both comforting me, delivering me. She quickly, lovingly, without hesitation reaches for the bloody organ in front of me. She clasps it within her loving hands, holding it as if it was some great treasure. Her treasure. Pulling it near to me chest, she drops it back into the emptiness of my soul. Back to where it belongs. And with a kiss, my chest starts to close, starts to heal over, starts to find peace at last. She loves me. And I love her. My angel sent from above. I am hers just as my heart now belongs to her. Her servant, as she is my goddess. I am hers.
I love her.
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