Soft touches, uncertainty lingering in every brush of skin. Bodies pulsing as one, but why, with every flash of skin, does it leave me empty, and just continue to make this hole more hollow. So tell me why I can't feel this body so near mine. It's like this so real person is not even there.
He whispers my name, a meaningless combination of syllables to him. What does he want? Oh, I know what he wants, but I don't give in to his calls for me. I can see it and feel it, that place on the other side of the mirror in my mind. It stills calls to me in their voices. What a sick place my mind is.
I pull away from the haze that is him. I stand, turn, and stumble. Why do I leave? I know they're not there. I find my way into the cool breeze of the night. The gentle wind plays as a whisper on my skin. It says, "Come". I pull my shirt on and think that tonight I will let my wounds bleed.
The streets are dark and quiet. If I listen hard enough, I can hear the village breathe. "Why do you do this to yourself?" Then I whisper aloud, "Because it's the only way I can feel."
Those horrible images play in my mind's eye. The sickening sound of skin breaking and thud of a lifeless body hitting the earth vibrates and bounces off the walls of my skull.
The earth beneath me turns to a thin dirt road. My body shivers due to the difference in temperature. The panic in their eyes and the scream about to erupt from their throats, but never comes is in my head now. I fall to my knees as the images of their faces come into view. My breathing seems to stop and I am choking on the words that want to slip from my lips. My hands start to rip at the grass in front of me. I look up and I am here. Such an empty and sad place this is.
My vision is blurred from silent tears that are falling now. I move forward and stand; my hand slaps against the cold stone there. My body gives and heaves violently as I hold back my rage and sadness. I know that their hearts don't, and mine does.
I feel tears fall down the length of my cheek, but stops short to be absorbed by the mask that hides me from the world. I pull the small piece of fabric down so that my tears can fall freely and so my wounds can bleed openly. I take a ragged breath as another tear falls.
I look up across the dark, quiet field. I open and close my mouth. The images and sounds playing again in my mind and I feel the wound in my heart sting and burn. And now her screams echo throughout the field. The hand that lies on the memorial stone begins to drag across the endless number of names in search of theirs. Then I stop to trace his name first. O...b…i…t…o, and then hers R…i…n.
I try to steady my breathing. But I am choking again on those words that I have to say. My mouth forms the word silently: "Sorry." I try again and this time it comes out "I am sorry."
I feel the hole in my chest rip open and then heal a little. My thoughts are of their cold dead bodies and the darkness that surrounds and fills them. I relax and let my wounds bleed until I blackout.
