Indian Aunty 1283

I blinked a couple times and tried to rub my eyes but my arms wouldn't obey. Odd smells soaked their way into my brain as I recovered and my vision started to clear.Christy was standing in front of me and so that smile, that evil smile was the first thing I saw. As feeling crept back into my body I could feel that I was physically uncomfortable as that smile made me emotionally. I wasn't sure but I thought I had a wedgie, and was sitting on it.My lips were numb and seemed to stick together making it difficult to speak but I gave it the old college try. "Werre's Devvie?" I slurred still feeling light headed and unable to move. Well that's the college try for someone who's never been to college.Christy rolled her eyes and shook her head at me. "I warned you. I gave you a chance to bow out and leave gracefully, but no, you had to go and stick your thumb in someone else's pie."Her voice got louder as she went on, and my head started spinning a little but more feeling returned in my body,. Dream about him next to me. Feel him in the night tending them. Believe that he’s there. Then there’s light and the shower is still running. I leave it on even though the water bill is too high to pay. I like the sound of the water rushing over me. Let the water pour. Clean and hot and desensitizing, destroying prints and calluses, burning away bacteria, boiling needles to the surface of my skin. Mindless, hopeless activity. I sit in the shower without forgiven and need and lust and longing. The scars will never vanish. Never fade completely. But remind me of the torture of trust, the fool who gives over. The emptiness that follows desire. All of it written in stitches across the scars and curves of fingerprints from homemade thread and sewn with the needles that were thrown at me. I say you must move on because the only way to live is for yourself. But the mirror doesn’t believe me. It remembers how he said he’d die for me and believes that there is another way. Still, it knows that.
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