Monday, February 2, 2009

Engine - Keeps the Heart Pumping,Music Rocking,And Love Bonding.(CHAPTER 11)

Living the Nightmare

He's tortured by love and by pain

Sharon den Adel

The sky was pitch black. There was no stars kind enough to lend their beautiful light to the sky. The moon too, all of a sudden became selfish and hid itself. Leaving the sky all alone. Dark. Empty. Black. Jimmy lay down on the grass beside his father’s grave. Staring blankly at the emptiness of the sky. A flask once full of Contrary Cocktail was now empty. Contrary Cocktail, a combination of hot, thick, bitter black coffee and a JD. As the caffeine helped ones to stay awake, increase ones conscious and awareness, the alcohol in JD, in the contrary, made ones head spin and unconscious as well as decrease the awareness. The combination of both formed a contrary organism. Awaken yet unconscious. Alive yet dead.

“Empty” he muttered. “Empty daddy. Just like me”. Jimmy laughed at his own statement, “You saw her face when she talked about him, didn’t you daddy? So excited, so anxious, so happy……so…so…beautiful”. His had this faraway dreamy look as he mentioned the word beautiful. He paused and looked around him. Then, he held on to his father’s tombstone, struggled to sit up straight as if he had a 50kg weight on his back. Thus, it took him almost 5 minutes just to sit up straight. “Finally”. A wide grin appeared across his face followed by a laughter. “So beautiful daddy. Her face, her expressions, and her words. So beautiful.” He then turned to face the tombstone as is hsis daddy was really there. “I mean, the way she describes Pogue. Pogue the dickhead. He saw Pogue as someone thoughtful, sensitive and full of love.” Jimmy roared with laughter. “The dickhead daddy!” His laughter grew louder, he was laughing so had until his eyes watered. “Yeah, he sure is a dickhead. She loves him so much dad. Too much. And he knew it. But he is a fucking dickhead who won’t let her love him. Fucking dickhead”. His laughter grew louder, he was laughing so had until his eyes watered. “ She is hurting daddy. Because dickhead wont let her love him. Because dickhead knew I love her”. Then she sound of laughter descended. Bit by bit the laugh sounded less like a laugh. Jimmy was still making a lot of noise though. But it was not laughter. “It’s all my fault daddy. She is hurting because of me.” Said Jimmy, who was sobbing so hard at his father’s grave.

The whistle of the cold night breeze broke the silence of the night. The cold night breeze made its way to Add’s unshut window, caused the curtains to flew like Marilyn Monroe’s skirt. The wind, although unseen, was full of strength. It conveyed it strength through the curtains. With the help of the wind, the light, soft and lingering curtain manage to knock down an object on Add’s drawer.

“What the fuck?” Add, who was hardly half awake mumbled.

He was awaken by the sound of broken glass. But, since it was about 4 am and he was exhausted, he couldn’t care more about what he just heard and went back to sleep instead. But the wind is powerful. It manage to defeat Add’s temptation to sleep as it brought along a sweet scent along with it. Add’s eyes opened in an instant. Widely.

He quickly rolled out of bed and followed the trail of the scent. The fruity scent that he adored so much.

“Where the hell do you come from?”

Add was not sure how to feel or what to feel. The scent was something he adored so much yet it was the last thing he wanted to smell. He as glad yet scared. But since his curiosity won him over, he followed the train of scent. With an over the top hope.

“Fuck! Damn it!” an immediate response after Add felt something sharp on his right foot. He looked down to the floor and he realized that he was at the end of the train of scent. It wasn’t something he expected to be, it wasn’t something he wanted to see. His heart shattered, just like the bottle of Ashley’s perfume. Broken, shattered, wasted. Yes, he was hoping that it was Ashley herself who brought in the scent. But no, it was just a broken bottle of Ashley’s perfume.

“So this was it then” he said wryly. The shattered glasses and scented liquid shimmered under the moonlight. It was as it the moonlight was emphasizing to Add that it was just a broken bottle of perfume, not Ashley. That Ashley did not come back. Perhaps she never will.

Add squatted and stared blankly at the shimmering shattered glasses and scented liquid. Now that he was so close to the source, the scent became strong and sharp. So sharp indeed. So sharp until it cuts deep. So sharp until it tore open Ad’s unhealed wound.

“Why my Lord, why?” he questioned and begged for mercy from the Almighty. But instead of being pardoned, the pain grew bigger. The wounds got deeper. It almost seem like a punishment from God for questioning His actions.

Then, he picked up a piece of glass. His eyes narrowed at the sharp tip. His hands shivered as he brought the glass closer to his right arm. Slowly, he pressed the sharp tip of the glass on to his right arm and red hot blood flowed out. With his hands still shivering, he pressed the glass deeper and pulled it downwards. More blood flowed out.

Painful it was, but not agonizing. The visible pain he felt made him forget the agony he felt inside. As if the agony flowed out along with the red hot blood. Which means, the more he cut himself, the more blood flowed out, the less agony he would feel.

Add lay on the floor, witnessing his red hot blood dripped on Ashley’s clear, sparkling sweet-smelling liquid perfume. Then his fingers danced on the mixture creating swirls of blood and perfume. Swirls, a symbolic of Add’s character. A never-ending circular motion that was deceiving. .