Gone
You see yourself in the mirror
And you feel safe cause it looks familiar
But you afraid to open up your soul
Cause you don't really know, don't really know
Who he is, the person that's deep within
And its gone... gone... going...
At the Memorial Stone I see the girl. She is standing there. Just standing there. Idle. She has flowers in her hands. She is crushing them to her chest. The flowers. She is beautiful. May'be. Young at least. And tall. And thin. Like so many of them. Like a waif. I am thinking you'd call that a waif. But I wouldn't know. She is the color of paled fruit. Her lips are soft. Feminine. And gasping words that I cannot read. From my position. She has seersucker eyes. They are large. And empty. But she doesn't cry.
She is wearing one of those hats. One of those slouchy hats. That fit over the whole head like a cooking net. So that I cannot see her hair. Only a wisp of a curl. A blonde wisp of a curl against her forehead. She cannot see me from where I am. And so keeps talking. Gasping at the Memorial Stone. Crushing petals in her hands. But she doesn't cry.
It is odd. It strikes me as odd to find someone else here. Here where I have come to be alone. Here where I am the only person that exists. Apart from Them who I do not want to share. Especially with someone like her. Someone who looks like her. Young and vibrant and who would not understand the way the things I say to Them. And if she is here They will not talk back to me. Which might be more more more than I can take. So I hang back here and watch. Her.
For a moment I think about what if I could take her and make love to her. I imagine myself between her thighs. Pushing that ridiculous hat back from her head. Touching her body in the tender spots where the hair still feels like fleece. Naked and pure and her eyes large and innocent sucking me in. I imagine the taste of that feminine mouth.
And then I hate myself. I hate myself. Because sex and sake seems to be all there is to fill these holes in my body. Because my throat is burning. And because I am thinking of sex with her when I am old enough to be a brother or an uncle or someone she might trust instead of someone who thinks of kissing her feminine mouth that will whisper scream his name like She used to do. Before she left. Because everythingthat mattered is gone. I am gone. Gone. Everything.
I move. She hears and looks up. She sees me. For the first time notices me. And looks afraid. Terrified. A deer noticing a wolf in the bush. Her mouth moves at me. And I imagine she is humming. The world hums. But she is really saying nothing and I've got to get more sake in my system because she turns and goes and I am still there. But not here. Not inside. I am Gone.
I am not going up to the Memorial Stone. To see Them. They will make me know what I have become. That She is Gone. Gone. Gone. That I am Gone. With no place to go to because I cannot stay in that empty house. Because I cannot go back there. And fester. And rot. In our furniture sheets air bed if she is going to be Gone. If she is not coming back I cannot go.
I sit down in the grass. My pager buzzes in my pocket. I take it out and look at it. Kurenai. When I chuck it into the woods it sail sail sails away in a wide arc over the forest trees. Gone. Gone. Gone. Everything is.....
There it is once again Ladies and Gents. As Kakashi loses his grip on sanity Kurenai loses her grip on something else in our next chapter!!! As the story winds down things wind up!!! Also just a little suggestion. The next chapter is a little graphic....as in....not for the faint of heart so...at your own risk peeps. ^.^
