5-27-05
"Look at all the lonely people..."
Once upon a time, a girl loved a boy. She was wary, he was shy. In time, they got to know each other very well. Or at least, SHE thought so. They seemed to be heading for a wonderful courtship, perhaps marriage. It was all so perfect.
Then he tried to kill her. Suffice to say things didn't exactly end well. She never really understood the motive. She was given a reason, but it wasn't the right one. Now she sits alone, terrified out of her mind and wondering what went wrong. Her bitter tears fall unnoticed.
Devi hated people. They sickened her. So many horrible things encased in a human shell. It just wasn't really worth trying to search out the good ones. Better to warp them, to set up the defenses to ensure never being hurt.
Devi really didn't like leaving her apartment. It was so nice and safe inside. Why should she even try to go out into the horrible world? It was far easier to barricade herself in her room with a coffee pot and a LOT of instant ramen.
Devi loved to paint. She loved the feeling of creating a living, breathing work of art. It consumed her so completely that she had more than once passed out at her easel. The many paintings cluttered her home and made for a lovely little fire hazard.
Devi only loved one person in her strange, twisted life. He had approached her back when she worked in a book store, and they had immediately clicked. Maybe it would have been better if they never went on a date. Then maybe he wouldn't have tried to kill her. Maybe things would have been different.
Probably not, but it was a nice thought.
Devi died oh so long ago. She died that night when he called. It was so long after their date, yet it had only seemed like the night before. She hated him for calling her even more than she hated him for trying to kill her. He seemed so sorry, yet she couldn't ever trust him again. Any chance they ever had was gone. As much as it had hurt, she had to push him away.
Devi sits alone in her apartment painting. The colors slash across the canvas, an image forming on the dark background. Sharp features, spiked hair, a frame so thin it looked almost painful, the haunted, sad look of the lonely soul. She wipes away a tear, smearing red across her cheekbone, and sits. She is asleep before she hits the ground.
Devi dreams. She imagines that there never was a time when she hated him. They are together, and they are happy. No violence, no arguments, only happiness.
And then she wakes, comes to in a world where nothing ever ends happily. Her bitter tears fall on half-dried paint, and she wishes desperately that it hadn't all gone so wrong.