Despair was the first thing that burned through my numb mind. Scalding and
relentless, like fluorescent fingers closing achingly tight on my chest. So
hot is was cold, so cold, and I was gasping for breath. Black, dark, and I
was shivering, my body was shaking. Falling into death, greeting it with
open arms and a warm embrace, trying to feel it, touch it, the texture of
dieing. That was how it was before I made my wish.
My story starts in the dark, soot stained streets of Monmarte. I used to love walking over the dirty cobblestones, breathing in the alcohol soaked air. It was so quiet that the silence blankets you like a cloak, amplifying the hiss of your breath and the pounding of your heart.
But tonight I was drowning in despair. I saw Christian's face in my mind, his soulful eyes brimming with pain mixed with confusion as I told him I didn't love him. Protesting desperately that it couldn't be real, the pain, the pain that was written on his face, his eyes, his expression. So much pain in his eyes... Rain clouds growled overhead. I glanced up at the gray clouds as drops fell from the sky and hit my shoulder with a patter.
I searched for any cover, looking for an open bar or shop. I was in the old, closed section of Monmarte that had been replaced years ago by the bustling center around the Moulin Rouge. All of the windows were boarded up, and the gray buildings were bleak and deserted. Dirt clung to the walls and sloppily paved road, and the silence had turned eerie and deafening. Light streamed out of one half open wooden door, filtered, cherry light. The weather beaten sign above the door read "Fortunes Told, Tarot Cards. Your future Revealed.'
I was filled with an overwhelming urge to go inside, and I slipped into the shop. Inside, the red light came from delicate lamps covered with crimson scarves. The heavy smell of incense stung the air, the smoke husky. Beads were hung in the back off of a gold painted ceiling. In the center was a round wooden table, and with a start I realized a woman was sitting in front of it, staring serenely at me in the doorway.
She was covered in soft, multicolored silk shawls that seemed to expand when she breathed. Strange stones were hung from her neck, and placid, wise black eyes burned into me.
"Sit down, my love." She said in a gravelly voice that was dark with a heavy accent, motioning toward a velvet chair. Her eyes, so sharp and commanding, mesmerized me. "You have come to me with a problem, no?" I nodded. "I see it.you love one man, but must be with another... hold out your hand." Surprising myself, I held it out obediently.
The woman's brown, gnarled fingers examined my palm. She turned it over, mumbling something to herself in a language I didn't recognize. Finally, she set it down on the table.
"You have lived a hard life. You deserve to be happy, but cannot. You will die soon." I frowned, but she seemed unaffected by what she said. "The one you love, you have hurt him. But he does not understand why. You only wish to be happy."
"I wish he had never met me." I mumbled. She looked at me.
"This is what you wish?"
"I wish that he had never met me. Then he wouldn't be hurt like he is now. I wish he had never met me." I repeated more strongly. She looked at me strangely.
"You may go now, my child. You will see things differently in the morning." I was suddenly filled with the urge to leave, and got up out of the chair with a clatter. I left the strange woman and went back out into the rain.
It was a few seconds later until I realized what had happened. Confused, I turned back to where the shop had been moments before.
It was gone.
My story starts in the dark, soot stained streets of Monmarte. I used to love walking over the dirty cobblestones, breathing in the alcohol soaked air. It was so quiet that the silence blankets you like a cloak, amplifying the hiss of your breath and the pounding of your heart.
But tonight I was drowning in despair. I saw Christian's face in my mind, his soulful eyes brimming with pain mixed with confusion as I told him I didn't love him. Protesting desperately that it couldn't be real, the pain, the pain that was written on his face, his eyes, his expression. So much pain in his eyes... Rain clouds growled overhead. I glanced up at the gray clouds as drops fell from the sky and hit my shoulder with a patter.
I searched for any cover, looking for an open bar or shop. I was in the old, closed section of Monmarte that had been replaced years ago by the bustling center around the Moulin Rouge. All of the windows were boarded up, and the gray buildings were bleak and deserted. Dirt clung to the walls and sloppily paved road, and the silence had turned eerie and deafening. Light streamed out of one half open wooden door, filtered, cherry light. The weather beaten sign above the door read "Fortunes Told, Tarot Cards. Your future Revealed.'
I was filled with an overwhelming urge to go inside, and I slipped into the shop. Inside, the red light came from delicate lamps covered with crimson scarves. The heavy smell of incense stung the air, the smoke husky. Beads were hung in the back off of a gold painted ceiling. In the center was a round wooden table, and with a start I realized a woman was sitting in front of it, staring serenely at me in the doorway.
She was covered in soft, multicolored silk shawls that seemed to expand when she breathed. Strange stones were hung from her neck, and placid, wise black eyes burned into me.
"Sit down, my love." She said in a gravelly voice that was dark with a heavy accent, motioning toward a velvet chair. Her eyes, so sharp and commanding, mesmerized me. "You have come to me with a problem, no?" I nodded. "I see it.you love one man, but must be with another... hold out your hand." Surprising myself, I held it out obediently.
The woman's brown, gnarled fingers examined my palm. She turned it over, mumbling something to herself in a language I didn't recognize. Finally, she set it down on the table.
"You have lived a hard life. You deserve to be happy, but cannot. You will die soon." I frowned, but she seemed unaffected by what she said. "The one you love, you have hurt him. But he does not understand why. You only wish to be happy."
"I wish he had never met me." I mumbled. She looked at me.
"This is what you wish?"
"I wish that he had never met me. Then he wouldn't be hurt like he is now. I wish he had never met me." I repeated more strongly. She looked at me strangely.
"You may go now, my child. You will see things differently in the morning." I was suddenly filled with the urge to leave, and got up out of the chair with a clatter. I left the strange woman and went back out into the rain.
It was a few seconds later until I realized what had happened. Confused, I turned back to where the shop had been moments before.
It was gone.