Dark Heart

I'm levitating as you slowly run away from me. I feel like it's a dream but in fact it's all reality and I can't turn away from the fact that you're leaving. When did everything turn so sour? I thought we were perfect and the life that we were living was good enough. Once I start to think about it I realize that the romantic inside me has died and that my first, true love, is nothing but a fable that parents tell their children so they will believe in something that us adults no longer believe. It's the cold hard truth that shakes me out of my visual coma so I return to my near empty apartment reminiscing all the things I will no longer be able to escape. It looks like a pit and not a place of love. A wave of emotions pass through me as I hear my record player spinning until I lift the needle and wallow to the warmth of Morrissey's voice. I've lost my heart and can't seem to locate it. I check my shoebox full of memories in the closet but realize it's empty and that he has taken everything inside including my soul. There's nothing left for me here, but the darkness that has always controlled me. This time it won't be so easy to over power it, because I'm too far gone.

What about the kids?

I run the tip of my finger across my middle ones nail bed, listening to the subtle strum from each grooves line.

As a nervous tick I place the flat end of my nail against my tiny lips and massage them, while I smell the faint scent of post it glue. It reminds me of Scotch tape and a brand new sharpie.

The feeling is indescribable which only nervous addicts can do.

I inhale what feels like an eternity, letting smoke take over my lungs. I slowly exhale, dragon like. It wiggles out of my lips, entranced by the ambient music and clinking from the ice shifting in my whisky.

The door bell rings, so I take one more drag, almost chocking down the last of my drink until I’m at the door slightly buzzed or dizzy from standing so quickly.

In front of me is Billy who waves to his mother so she has nothing to fear.

He enters and I close the door behind him, scanning the neighborhood before disappearing inside.

Billy likes to do regular things any normal nine year old would. Load up on sugar and play video games.

This time I planned ahead by ordering pizzas and buying a variety of sweets.

I offer him a coke, while I stick to beer. He asks me about it, so I let him have a taste. He instantaneously spits it out, then goes back for more after I tell him it’s a grown ups drink.

It takes him a few sips until he starts to like it but I get some pizza in him before he is completely inebriated.

Flash Gordon is on and we watch it from start to finish, no interruptions, only hoots and hollers by Billy at the violence.

Part of me moves, watching this.

When it’s over I turn on the original Mario Brothers on Nintendo and watch Billy’s fingers stab at the red buttons.

He gets to level two before dying and throws the remote at the television.

He apologizes and waits for a punishment but there is no violence allowed in my house, only love.

I turn the game off and switch our attention to Twister. I explain the rules and jump into the game. Billy’s small limbs manages to stretch across the board, while mine barely shift but the excitement from the games positions revitalize my energy and we become two entangled chess pieces.

I crumble with Billy on top of me, which breaks into a tickle fight. He’s small so I have the advantage, but I don’t force myself on him. I lightly press my lips on his stomach and blow, creating a high pitch squealing. My mustache tickles his skin, erupting into more laughter.

This time I get a taste of his neck by blowing hard on it. He doesn’t seem to notice.

I spread these moments all over, until there’s nowhere else to go but down.

He knows where this is headed.

Guilt washes over his face as he lies back on the vinyl Twister mat, staring at me while escaping his body.

His mind is somewhere else while I turn off the lights and scoop him into my arms.

Dark Mind

(Rolling)

The following is a transcript from client “X’s” first and only hypnotized session, which was meant to act as a catalyst to reveal these dark and emotional trauma’s he had been suffering for months.

He had been experiencing light symptoms of dread that manifested itself as ulcers, which doctors treated as any other physicians would.

My professional opinion, they weren’t ulcers, but violent reactions to a presence eating him from the inside out.

All I could do was listen, and pray, that this evaluation would let me in to his beautifully dark mind.

(Tape begins)

“Okay ****, just like we practiced. Breathe, externalize your internal, and let me in.”

(Heavy breathing)

“Relax, deep psychosis, transient imagery. Remember, you’re not alone. You’re in a space. What do you see?”

(Slow exhale)

It’s not a place.

“What exactly is it then?”

A void. Not land, not space. A black hole. A halfway point to something wicked but I don’t recognize people, faces, or things.

“You must recognize something.”

No.

“Open your minds eye. Tell me what you see.”

(Light tremors)

There’s nothing.

“Focus ****, you need to progress or this entire session will be a waste.”

Shut the door, twinkle in the sky, I see nothing but mirrored faces, and a broken life savings.

“****?”

Can’t, dance, with this lance, or we won’t get the chance.

“****, you have to listen to me. You’re falling too far into your dream space. You have to come back.”

You, who, knew, Sue, won’t, know, the proper, prose, to whisk her, worries away.

“****, come back to me”

Gin, sin, where does it all begin? Until you’ve see what you made, we won’t be able to fix it.

(Slap)

It’s all familiar.

Flashing lights and carnival sounds are all around, but there isn’t any sound.

I walk to the entrance of a funhouse.

I'm bombarded with maniacal laughing.

It isn’t from a clown.

It’s my own.

I’m riding solo in the funhouse cart.

Incredible fear takes over.

I’ve arrived.

The cart stops so I get out.

I’m walking down a corridor of many mirrors.

Some make me look old, others make me dead.

The place is shaking like an earthquake has taken over the building.

Dangling punching bags meant for fun block me in.

I'm entangled in the large weights.

They keep knocking me back and forth.

It hurts!

My body is being violated.

I'm closing my eyes hoping the loud carnival music and laughing will stop.

"Open them back up. What do you see now?"

In front of me is a small door.

"Open it."

No.

"Just like we discussed"


It...it leads to an infinite number of other little doors.

It's nothing but an old parlor trick meant to keep me busy.

"Busy from what?"

It knows I refuse.

The house will not be ignored.

The floor is shifting, pulling me backwards, and then frontwards like a retarded treadmill bent on revenge.

I’m running, sweating, working, pulling, moving, shaking, trying, dying.

My hairs rapidly growing, my eyes are starting to fade, the house is folding around me into a giant rubix cube.

The panels bright colors are stained with black blood.

It knows, I'm here.

The cube is closing.

It's locking me in.

(Pause)

"****, you're bleeding"

That's all it wants.

"It's time to wake up, you here me? Open your eyes."

They are.

"Your earthly eyes, not your minds."

There is no difference in the void.

Once you've stepped into the box, both are sewn shut.

It's the point of no return.


END OF TAPE