Escape
Escape rode by my window every evening on a white horse.
Daddy hated it and Morfin cursed it because it wasn't like us, but that's why I couldn't keep my eyes off it. Anything but us.
But it rode by.
And one day it rode by with a hand around its waist, a whisper in its ear, and lips caressing its neck, and I knew my escape would soon be lost.
But it is not, it is here with me now, and it is my lips caressing its skin, my hands encircling its waist; the sweet taste of escape, the passion of defiance. It strokes me where before there were only slaps and force and demands for a pure heir. It enters me gently where Morfin demanded admission, and I know my increased passion will wipe out his memory, for it only escape, my Escape, that is different enough and strong enough to cancel out all which was. I lose myself in Escape because I need it to cover me and erase me. Sweet Salazar, just erase me.
My pure blood has not flowed for months and I whisper this into his ear as he fondles my unexpectedly larger breasts. He smiles and nods, but his eyes are as blank as ever. No surprise or fear or rage or joy, and I throw myself into him again to wipe away my unhappiness. But I know, I know that my Escape is truly mine now. I can cut the line.
I watch his eyes as they begin to sparkle with life. Oh, my Escape, your eyes are so beautiful. I take his hands and place them on my belly where the kicks of our union tickle our fingers. I lean in to taste his mouth untainted for the first time, and he lets me but has no response. No, my Escape, no. I deepen my kiss in a panic, but his beautiful gray eyes grow wide. His hands contract and I cry out as he jerks them away from my stomach, leaving seven long bloody scratches in their wake. I cannot let my Escape back away, I cannot, but my legs have lost all feeling in terror. My Escape loves me. He must. His mouth opens and I cannot allow it to do anything but swallow me, but instead it utters a single syllable: "-itch," as if unsure which initial consonant were most needed, and turns away from me, the rest of his body following.
My Escape rode away from me on a white horse.
But I must escape. I must.
A/N- Not mine et cetera. I did mean for there to be implications of rape/incest/suicide, but you don't have to read it that way if you don't want. Merope is not a happy duck. This is just my attempt to explain why. :-) Please review/give suggestions.