Tonight I dream or it feels like a dream, an answer in the dark. An answer of intertwined limbs slick with desire. I sit up with a climax of light shining within. I feel my body tremble with gold. I look for Alice beside me and I run my fingers through my disheveled hair knowing it was a dream that I yearn to be real in the most secret parts of myself. I hear the footsteps on the stairs and I go to take a look.
I put on the fluffy yellow robe Bella gave me. The cheery colour reminds me of a baby chicken and its soft downy feathers that look as yellow as an egg yolk. I open my door and see my mother walk into her bedroom at the end of the dark hall. She is walking as slow as a ghost, or a phantom of the living dead.
A familiar metallic taste fills my mouth and nose. A sense of knowingness cascades over me like a golden wave. Her fierce trembles are wafting over me like tongues of flame, licking at all of her feelings in this moment and coursing to mine disguising them to play a part within me. Creating a creational bang of feelings in my being like the Big Bang that created the universe. Only I am at the centre of it all and the creative force is…never mind.
I have only sensed this kind of intensity from my mother once before. It can only mean one thing, a means to an end. She killed.
"Who was it this time?" I ask as I walk into her dim lighted room and see her washing her bloody hands as her hungry burgundy eyes stare at the crimson swirls staining the pale porcelain basin of the sink.
"Someone, who was trying to hurt my family. I need a bag, Hazel," she tells me in a strong voice that is trembling with expert restraint. I nod and walk into the dark kitchen to the fridge. I don't have time to warm it up. She is too hungry for that. If Bella wakes up she is in danger.
I bring the bag and a glass. Putting them both on my mother's wooden vanity with a marble table in the bathroom. She lunges for them with ancient primordial hunger. I cross my arms as I lean against the wall. Knowing that she is going to collapse with the ebbing of adrenaline and will need help walking to bed. My mother is more cursed then me and tears spring to my eyes like a first spring rain creating a waterfall. I quickly wipe the burning salty stains away, afraid to feel more then I do.
I see her gulp the blood in the glass as if it is water instead of thick cold liquid life. I guess in a certain context blood can be called the water of life. She closes her eyes in ecstasy as her voice sighs out an orgasmic moan of release and satisfaction. I cannot prevent the red blood stained blush spreading on my cheeks at the intimate sound.
"Who did you murder?" I ask as I walk to support her crumpled figure that is usually refined with beauty and lead her to her ebony bed that is overlaid with cascading dark silk blue sheets.
"It doesn't matter Hazel, not right now, what's done is done. What has been broken cannot be mended that is the rule of the world. Death visits in this moment Hazel, let's hear it's haunting quiet," my mother recites in an exhausted whisper as her hands curl into the dark blue silk pillow. Her long brown hair looks like snakes slithering in a dark pit lit by the full moon. I swear I can hear a wolf's call. Right here, right now, she look like a small child who is afraid of her own shadow.
I sigh and crawl in behind her. Knowing that death doesn't like too much company. "You are just as ancient life aren't you," I murmur into my mother's shaking shoulder.
"Life and death are twins flames of the universe. They are as old as the creations of dreams," my inner demon whispers with a lulling tune, as if it is lulling a primal lullaby that speaks to the hidden fathoms within me.
Inside I can hear my creature purr with pleasurable contentment as I sleep into dark waters that keep pulling me under, into the dreamworld.