Wednesday, June 24, 2020

A Little Something I Wrote

The other day this piece popped into my head. I could literally see the story playing out. This hasn't happened in a while which told me that this was an important piece to write. 

I shared it with a friend who called in "heartbreaking" and that's exactly the thing. My heart was breaking and I needed to write the pain out. 

I thought I'd share it with you.




The Slow Death

Plain as she can be, she never dreamed she’d be here. In this place. In this time. Staring down the barrel of several loaded guns. Caught in the crosshairs. Waiting for the one willing to pull the trigger.

Her deer eyes blink slowly, but she is frozen. Too scared to move. Too scared to stay where she is. Her body trembles as she feels the weight of the scopes, scanning the best place to plant the bullet that could lead to her demise.

Her only path is dark and overgrown with underbrush. She could hide well, but there are even scarier things waiting for her there. Creatures with sharpened teeth and razor-like claws who wish to rip her tender flesh from her body are concealed from the light of the day.

Her body shudders slightly, visible only to those closest to her. She slowly turns, allowing her body to block others who stand as terrified as she.  She bares her neck to the ones holding the guns. The ones who would kill her with one shot. She is willing to lie bleeding out on the forest floor to protect those who aren’t as willing to die as is she.

She hears the soft sighs of the hunters as she waits for the bullet to pierce her flesh. She turns slowly to look at the hunters…one at a time. She nickers softly, encouraging the others to flee and not return for her. She is willing to meet her fate. After all, no one will miss her. She is nothing to them. Just another trophy for their wall and meals for their families.

She hears a man call something. With a deep breath, her long lashed eyes close. She hears men’s laughter as she opens her eyes to find the darkest haired of the men making his way toward her, his hand outstretched, reaching to run his fingers over her trembling body. He speaks in such a low and calming manner as he strokes his hands over her. She feels her body leaning into him, begging him for more. The one wild creature in the forest that aches for the touch of man. The touch of THIS man.

His friends are teasing him as he slowly runs his long fingers of her. He smiles and her heart melts. Today she will not die in the way she anticipated. Instead she will die because this man will merely carry her heart with him as he walks away. And he will walk away. They all walk away. She is a wild creature not meant to be loved in any capacity. She is merely for men’s entertainment and amusement. She is not meant to have forever. She is only meant for the here and now.

The man coaxes her to follow him and the wild in her heart aches to be free. He does not understand that wild things aren’t made to be domesticated simply because they’re terrified of having their spirits broken.

Again, he whispers murmurs of love. Her heart races because there is nothing she wants more than to be loved by this man. However, he like the others will hurt her. He’s a man. He doesn’t know any other way to be. But, god, this man. This man she wants to love more than the others before him. He teases her to follow him towards the edge of the clearing.

His friends continue to tease and laugh. In her heart, she knows they’re laughing at her stupidity and willingness to give herself over to him for one more stroke of his hands over her. She tried to tune them out and just enjoy the moment. The man then laughs and shoos at her. “Stupid woman! Did you really think I’d love you?”

She feels her heart shatter into a millions pieces and tears fall from her big doe-like eyes. The droplets cling to her lashes as she looks at him, her wounded heart glistening in her eyes. She slowly turns to walk into the dense underbrush, praying to be devoured by the dark creatures with fangs and claws. It would be so much easier than the slow death of falling in love.

-GKM-6192020


No comments:

Post a Comment