~Markus~
Some time or another, I knew that I would have to get a hold of myself.
But of course, that sounded nearly impossible. Because as of now, I was sitting alone on the weekends. No longer did I have a woman by my side. No longer did I have someone always willing to do what I pleased, what I chose. No longer. So I decided that I had to get her back.
Otherwise, who would there be to take care of me?
Certainly not myself. That's why I got myself a whore like her in the first place. Honestly, from someone who has the experience, I can tell you this: They're easy to catch and easy to trap. Some of them only want cash, and others want nothing at all except a wholesome relationship. Of course, I'm willing to deliver, but not always in the best way. I'd done all of this before, but this had never even occurred.
There had never been a moment where one of them had run. The thought had never even crossed my mind, really--that my property would even consider leaving me behind. Those idiots are so hopeless about themselves that I doubted they would have the strength to leave at all. But in this situation, Ramona was different. She'd been my property for 2 whole years--the longest that one has ever lasted before--and yet she still got away.
I kicked myself for being careless. Even though she was mine, I still trusted her somewhat after she proved not to be capable of leaving. Deep down, I thought that she would have been so emotionally damaged that she would have never thought about running, but it seems that I was horribly, horribly wrong.
Now I was alone.
Smoke drifted from my fresh cigarette, pulling it from my lips in a long drag. I noticed that my steps were becoming more and more wobbly as I went down the avenue. My legs seemed to tremble with every movement, my eyes seemed to blur with every blink. The breath caught in my throat as people pushed past my figure on the street, muttering things at me as I shuddered to a stop.
My eyes fell to my shoes, the cobblestone road beneath them giving an illusionary shake. I blinked only once more before I felt the air begin to return to my lungs, and my legs smoothed themselves out. With a stuttering, halting sigh, I eventually willed myself to move and not to just throw up.
Goddammit.
These types of incidents were happening more often now, I noticed. Of course, they had always done so before--periods of varying time that I couldn't breathe or move--even in my childhood. But since that… ass of a woman left me be, I saw myself becoming increasingly panicked.
I rubbed my temples as I approached my destination. More people were still bustling down the street as I came to a stop. Before me was the only spot in Denver that I actually took seriously:
Barry's Bar and Grille. Sure, it had a stupid and silly history, and sure, it quite possibly had the nastiest food in Colorado, but I went there anyway. It gave me this… the homely feeling when I stepped inside. And on this particular day, when I grasped the handle of the door to enter, I only had one thought in my head with my eyebrows knitted together in determination.
I will find my PROPERTY because she IS MINE, and I'm going to DO IT whether or not she agrees. Why? Because she's MINE. That bitch is MINE.
And I plan to claim her.
~~~
~Ramona~
3 years ago
There was only one thing that I was sure of at that moment: This guy is not coming…
I stared down at my watch determinedly, as if that would somehow make him either show up or let time run faster. But as it did neither, and I heard several more people enter the building, I couldn't help but sigh at my situation.
It looks like another catfish… or at least just another jackwagon.
My shoulders slumped in a heavy sigh, hair slipping in front of my eyes when I did. Looking at the phone in my hand, I saw that this guy was an entire hour late. Or rather, he would've been an hour late, if I was going to bother to wait for him. Which I wasn't. Too many people were wasting my time nowadays. Plus, it wasn't like we were in love or anything…
I shut off my phone and observed the room around me somewhat apprehensively. Maybe he'd come in when I was looking down at the table…?
No. He had not. I didn't even know why I was hoping he was there--it wasn't my fault he was being a jerk like this. The coffee shop I was in was still a coffee shop, and I was still Ramona Syleman. I still sat in a way-too-plush chair, and the guy I'd met online still hadn't bothered to come. My eyes drooped to half-mast just before I heard it. The sound of something...curious.
The bustling business around me seemed to quiet down to a low hush, the lights looked like they had dimmed. All I could hear as I stared up in awe was a voice so confident and strong that I thought I might lose myself in it. People--no, everyone--was glancing up at the speaker just like I was. I don't know what attracted us to the perpetrator, really… perhaps it was simply the chance that something magical might happen if we took a moment to observe. Or maybe it was the idea that anything could change in us if we took the risk of seeing what that lovely sound was coming from.
I, for one, regretted the choice that I made.
He… was tall, slightly tanned. Less masculine than you'd think, really. Dark hair, even darker eyes that just spoke to you in a way other things couldn't. Odd style of clothes. The tiniest piercing in his ear, just barely noticeable. And holding a thin, sleek laptop that was probably incredibly overpriced. His voice didn't match the guy at all. Maybe that was what made us look in the first place.
His laugh was a perfect, pealing bell that made our eyes widen. We shuddered when he took a glance over the room, perhaps hoping that his eyes had slid over us. We all knew that something was just strange about him but had no idea what.
It was that display that made me want to leave even more, honestly.
Pulling my purse over my shoulder and reflexively slipping my phone into my back pocket, I stepped out of the booth I was sitting in with a slight stretch. I wanted to yawn a bit, even. I'd been in there quite a while simply wondering where the hell some dude was when it was obvious he wouldn't show up. I attempted to yank my hair out my hoodie before approaching the door, catching it on the zipper of my purse with a bit of pain. I knew that my damn hair was getting long, but by this point, it was just annoying…
"Hey, you."
My eyebrows knitted together at the sound. It was the bell, the one who'd made all of our heads turn. The one who made us shiver at the sound of his speech. Who was it, really, other than someone we knew could change us forever?
I turned my head around slowly, my eyes flickering all around me just before the voice spoke once more. "Um… I know this is sudden, but…"
My eye twitched at only one sentence from this guy. Yaknow, there was another guy who'd done this exact same thing… what was his name again? Oh, right. It was the guy who had just catfished me at this very coffee shop. And now some other twat was going to hit on me?
I nearly rolled my eyes in disgust. "No way."
I turned around, only making it one step away from the door as he interrupted me. "Oh… I'm sorry. I just wanted to say…" I felt the intense urge to rub my temples.
"You're really beautiful."
I do believe… that was the first lie.
~~~
One had to blink furiously in this situation. Who wouldn't?
First of all, every blink I did was killing me--there was probably something wrong with my eyes but I didn't care enough to go look. And second of all, I knew very well that there was a man named Liam pushing me up against the wall next to his bedroom with a menacing look in his eye and an object in his hand I don't even want to name.
"OY. DO NOT--" He cut me off sharply.
"Ramona. Do you know what this is…?" He gave a sort of disturbed yet pointed look to the object in his hand. Oh, Christ. What was this guy just going to do?
I felt myself blinking more involuntarily and saw that he was twitching more and more with every action. "Yeah…" My eyes drifted to my shoes before I could even think, and the face that was a foot away from mine was now only an inch away.
Holy shit, just how much strawberry perfume does this guy use…?
"I'm not letting you past me until you take it."
Well, that shot me out of my slump. "OH HELL NO. NO WAY JOSE. I'M NOT TAKING THAT. YOU CAN'T MAKE ME, YOU KNOW. NO WAY ARE YOU GOING TO--"
I was rudely interrupted by the sensation of water dripping into my eyes and someone jamming an object into my eyeball. "WHAT THE HELL LIAM, THIS IS NOT A CONVENTIONAL WAY TO DO THIS AT ALL--" I struggled against the hands that kept gripping me tighter and more strongly against the wall. "WELL, THAT'S A GIVEN, LADY. BUT IT LOOKED LIKE YOU'RE NOT GOING TO DO IT NORMALLY, SO DRASTIC TIMES CALL FOR DRASTIC MEASURES."
I stared at him with the sarcasm seeping out of my tone. "YOU CALL THIS YOUR LAST SHOT OR SOMETHING?? YOU COULD'VE JUST ASKED!"
I nearly slipped out of his grasp just before calloused fingers just barely caught my shirt, seizing the opportunity to pull me back in full force. My eyebrow twitched in frustration at that. A few drops of water flew into my eyes as I got almost body-slammed against the wall. Luckily, it seemed that Liam was being compassionate, and he shoved his hand between my head and the wall just before I hit it.
"I'M PRETTY SURE THAT SOMEONE LIKE YOU WOULDN'T QUITE APPRECIATE SOMEONE LIKE ME ASKING YOU IF I CAN CRAM SOME WATER IN YOUR EYES." Even more water fell from above, landing on my eyelashes and eyebrows, which made me involuntarily blink before I could even think about what I was doing. I was pretty much just submitting to it by now. I noticed the obvious relax in his features as his arms fell from my wrists with a sudden halt. There was even a satisfied smile on his face as he tried desperately to catch his breath with the effort of the entire situation.
Swiping his arm across his forehead, Liam's face smoothed out just as I leaned back against the wall again. "Ugh… well, that certainly was unpleasant…"
Liam scoffed harshly from in front of me. "Well that's a given, isn't it? And damn," Liam panted while rubbing his hands together in what I assumed were sore spots, "you sure can put up a fight."
Now it was my turn to scoff. "Obviously. But really--was that the BEST WAY TO DO THAT??"
Liam only greeted my question with a casual grin. "Of course. I knew that you would never dream of sticking eyedrops in your eyes. You hate the sensation of things in them in the first place." Liam jammed his hands in his pockets before sighing, glancing up at me with a sort of solitary smile that made me want to chuckle somehow.
I sighed heavily against the wall, folding my arms across my chest and stepping off of it. It hadn't even been that long since I'd showed up here, but Liam was already doing stuff like this? Honestly, the thought of that made me want to laugh. This was all pretty silly, wasn't it?
It'd been two weeks. Two whole weeks since I left, since I came to Liam's home. Two weeks, and absolutely no word or movement from Markus. Two weeks of all-different misadventures that Liam and I had been on, and two weeks of my wondering why I was even here. But now, I felt that last question nagging at me: Why was I still here, really? You'd think that Liam would have had enough of my garbage at some point. But it seemed… Liam didn't even mind me being here.
He never asked me personal questions. He always cooked me breakfast. He was teaching me about the different constellations during a starry night, and we would stare up at the horizon in awe. Once, we even went out to the forest beyond the back of his house--and he taught me all about the wildlife growing and flourishing in the area. He spoke about bubbling streams just a mile away, he said many things about how the sun affected the creatures in the woods. We caught fireflies in tiny jars, releasing them like sparks of light only minutes later. We observed the world around us and just had to wonder about the several thousand celestial bodies struck above our very heads. It might have been simple experiences for Liam, but it was magical for me.
I didn't know if helping me like this or letting me do so much was exactly fun for Liam. I didn't have any idea if he enjoyed my quiet company. I didn't have a clue if he wanted me here. But yet, I still held my existence in this house of his, and we interacted like it was the norm. Isn't that just… so unbelievably weird? But what I found even more strange was the fact that a guy like Liam had noticed that my eyes were bothering me like that, and just knew that I had an aversion against things going in my eyes. After two weeks of being in this place together, just how much knowledge about me had he gleaned?
But even through the questions I asked myself, there wasn't a doubt in the world that I was doing perfectly fine. After breakfast every day, Liam went upstairs and left me to my own devices. At first, I had no idea what to do--until Liam introduced me to a room next to the downstairs bathroom called a library.
Several ceiling-breaching bookshelves, flying up to the surface like it was nothing. Piles upon piles of books and numerous papers floating about, covered in different levels of dust. Rays of sunlight cascading over the ancient novels. The faint scent of must collecting in the air. Every breath I took in that room sent me soaring with the familiar feeling of pure nostalgia and curiosity, and every step I took into a different section of it gave me a sort of shiver. These books… were ones that I read in my childhood. Some from my teenage years. Ones I loved as a fresh adult, some that I discovered in college. I couldn't get over how it felt as if I was traveling through my entire life simply in a room.
The Witness Wore Red. Under The Banner of Heaven. The Outsiders. Maniac Magee. Just where the hell was I right now? What kind of collection did this guy really have?
My fingers rested on novels I thought particularly interesting, things that I wouldn't have otherwise read a few years ago. Short stories. Poems. Lyrics. Books about feminism, about the beauty of opera. Documents about research topics. Anything and everything that I thought would be worth something in the future. But I couldn't help but feel how unlike me this was. Old Ramona would never dream of… reading a book about women's rights in ancient history. Old Ramona would never think about the personal lives of opera stars like Luciano Pavarotti. Perhaps this change of heart was something that resulted in my new environment, or maybe it was contributed to there simply being something in the air.
Yes. Something in the air. Something that made me think abnormally. Something that somehow snatched all the fear out of my very soul, yanked the curiosity about Markus into the light.
Lately, I felt as if the breath had been knocked out of me.
I was in that place… for so long. I didn't dare ask to leave, because I already knew what the answer would be. My past and my distress was my oxygen and nitrogen, and now… I was somewhere else. I was breathing different air. I think it was difficult for my lungs to adjust, for my brain to start thinking about the altitude. Now, I was even taller, higher up than never before with a sort of terror that I couldn't even name. Now, I was. Then, I wasn't.
The thought that I was in Liam's house and living with him without any word from Markus freaked me out beyond belief. Every time that the idea popped into my head I felt myself almost violently tremble with fear. Markus. Markus. Markus. Where the hell…? Why wasn't he…?
I sighed heavily as though the very world was weighing on my shoulders. Rubbing my temples and taking one step toward the staircase to my left, I heard it bubbling to the surface. The voice.
Markus is probably just hiding out somewhere for now while he waits for you to come out, you know. Or, maybe he's just completely given up on such a useless person like you… how pitiful that would be, huh?
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. 'Oh, get over yourself.'
Something smug shattered through the eerie darkness. I would if you didn't leave so many chances for me to show up. Really, you're just hopeless, aren't you? You can't control a damn thing in your life.
The sarcasm dripping through my tone, I could practically smell the irritation boiling from within me. 'You think I don't already know that? You think that I don't already think that I'm just a piece of human garbage?' I bored my eyes into that sharp cobalt of theirs. 'Do you THINK that I'm not already contemplating if Markus never thought of me as property at all??'
A surprisingly pleasant chuckle erupted into thin air. The sound shot through my bones like freezing water, soaking me and choking me with the absence of oxygen. When I thrashed about in the chill, my hands desperately aiming to grasp anything solid--I latched directly onto something so dangerous that I felt liquid fill up my lungs.
A scowling glance rocked through me, staring down at me defiantly like I was some tiny pathetic animal. Why, of course. You're Ramona Syleman, for heaven's sake. If not doubtful and terrified 24/7, then who are you?
Who are you, Ramona? Who do you want to be? What have to done to take concrete steps? Whose example are you following, if not your own? Who? Who are you? Why are you different? Why have you become something new? WHO. ARE. YOU?
Claws gripped the front of my shirt, yanking me forward as I got a whiff of the scent of sewage; I didn't know where it could have come from except the jaws of the beast before me. Tiny daggers sliced into my delicate skin, drawing blood more quickly than I thought. The sensation of venom dripping onto my wrists barely caught my attention, even though it was burning pygmy holes in my body. 'If I'm not Ramona Syleman, then who am I? What do you see me as, Fear?' I managed to pull back my hand from the knives cutting my fingers and chest.
Another familiar laugh sounded from somewhere in the shadows, sending a frightened shiver running through my veins. Isn't the answer obvious, dear? Why should I reply to something that you clearly already know the answer to? A tsk. Then a beat before more words followed the ones that I knew that I would hear.
Invisible eyebrows rose in intrigue as glistening fangs blew white in the dark. But if you want an answer so much, then you must be pretty desperate…
I felt a part of my body twitch involuntarily before I could stop it. 'Of course. Why wouldn't I want to know what my dear friend thinks of me?'
Lips curled in the black somewhat happily. Why thank you. So sweet of you to recognize my authority. I suppose this means that I have to give you a reply…?
I thought that I heard a huffing sigh, exhausted and yet translucent at the same time. The prickling sensation at the back of my neck seemed to intensify when I noticed a burdened, newly-shadowed look cover its face. The cobalt color had increased, the brilliant blue sharper and more inquisitive than before as it stared me down with a steely glare. You, Ramona Syleman…
Are changing.
~~~
~Liam~
15 years ago
"That's not how you hold it, kiddo. Here…" Kathryn lifted the violin from my arms gently, placing it in her own with the utmost care. Kathy was only 3 years older than me, but she'd been playing the violin for much longer. I had to respect that, being eight years old and all. When any sound reverberated from the instrument, I felt myself become almost… jealous.
I handed her my bow when she gestured for it, swallowing as she pulled it into her hands like she was caressing a child. And then, with the softest of smiles and the sweetest of sounds, she drew the bow across the strings.
The music started low, deep at first, before settling into a high-pitched melodic tune I could never hope to play. Her fingers flew on the strings, the bow sliding across them like it was the most natural thing in the world. Her eyes closed slowly as she went, a quiet smile settling across her cheeks while her dimples showed. It was impossible to know just how much she was enjoying playing only once. It was impossible to know if she had been waiting to show me this level of skill. But here I was anyways, gaping at awe at someone so close to me. Here I was, absolutely stunned by her music.
She spoke almost silently through the afternoon sun, her chestnut hair sparkling in the sunlight. "When you're playing, Liam, don't be flat and classical. That's boring!" Her eyes sparked into a wide grin as the tune on the violin began faster and faster, quicker as she plucked the strings with the bow. The melody was speeding up, spiking into all different notes at different times. But somehow, it was still a lovely song.
"You've gotta…" Her eyes flew open just as she hit the highest-peaking note, "soar like a bird!"
Kathy's delicate hands gripped the violin and her music sounded so beautiful and intense that I forgot to keep breathing. She wasn't flat. She wasn't boring. She was the best. And she soared like a bird…
Up until the very end of her life.
~~~
~Ramona~
Lately, something has been nagging at me.
There are no words to describe it except beautiful, and no emotions to describe it except overwhelming peace. Every time I hear it, I can't even find the words to say how I feel. There's nothing except warmth and soft sounds, with a tinge of solitude and the extravagant sense of loneliness.
It's a violin.
I recognized the sound the instant I heard it, back on my first day here. The song it played was my only lullaby as I fell asleep. But now…
I hear it in the library, too. While I'm sitting in a plump armchair or reading by the window. I hear it when I'm in the shower, or when I'm going to bed. It's everywhere and nowhere at once, yet it only seems to happen every couple of days. That shuddering, lonesome sound that is beyond gorgeous.
At first, I wanted to know where it was coming from in the first place. However, it only perplexed me for a few hours. There were no possible places it could be coming from except from Liam. There was no chance that it would be emitted through anything else, anyone else. But the real question in this situation was: Why did Liam keep doing it, and what exactly was he playing for?
Or rather, who is he playing for…?
But as of now, those questions and non-answers weren't important. What was important, however, was…
"Ah, can't wait to try some of Chef Ramona's famous cooking…" A bit of a tease curled into Liam's tone, his eyes twinkling as he settled into a seat at the table. I resisted the urge to either yell at him for the insult or burst out laughing like a delusional person. Both of them would definitely make Liam shut up, that was for sure.
I rolled my eyes then, plunging the pot of boiling water in my hands into the colander below me. Billows of hot steam rose up, up, up from the sink, and I had to turn my head away to keep my glasses from fogging up. Setting the pot on a different burner than the last, I lifted the colander only to see much more water come pouring through. Behind me, the trademark sound of Liam tapping away at his phone made me want to sigh.
The entire room smelled of fresh bread and buttered toast, wafting through the open windows and into the outside world. Every time I stepped close to the windows in the house that was open like that, I could just feel how much the weather had been changing lately. Instead of blistering heat and humidity that make you sweat just by glancing outside, it had simmered down to a low hum. Now, it was only getting about 80 degrees at noon, and getting as low as 60 at night. The world felt like it was calming down.
It was already October, after all. Winter would be here before we even knew it. But just how long was I going to even be here?
Where am I going to go…?
I felt the frown on my face before I could even blink. My eyes fell to the smaller pot on the right burner, just in front of me. A bit of steam wafted up to the surface, and I sighed heavily before stirring it a bit more. With a tiny lick on the spoon, I noticed what was wrong. The taste of tomatoes was definitely too strong, and that outlied any other defining flavors. That's what I got for using the stuff in a jar, I supposed…
My fingers grasped the glass of the bottle of basil; it was probably the best thing to put in this stuff. But something was still missing. Even with basil, the sauce would still be too savory. Running my eyes around the room surrounding me, I noticed my target on the highest shelf in the kitchen.
But it was too high for me to reach. Rolling my eyes once more, I spoke quietly into the stillness of the evening. "Hey, Liam…?"
His eyes flew up to meet my gaze, knitting his eyebrows together as I gestured to the top shelf. His face slipped into a polite little smile as he stood up from the table, brushing his fingertips against the "OFF" button on the side of his phone. It struck me quite a bit that someone actually turned off their electronic device to talk to someone else, really.
"Wait, what do you need? I didn't think that the sauce would need anything else except, well… to be cooked." Liam grinned while scratching the back of his head awkwardly at his response. The faintest sign of a smile approached my lips but didn't quite get there.
Pointing to the object I needed, I saw his expression flicker in surprise before he let out a soft chuckle. "I won't ask why you particularly need this or anything… since apparently you're an actually good cook and all." Reaching for the bottle I needed, he rested his elbows on the counter next to be as he silently watched me work.
This time, I felt a smile curl onto my face gently. Liam was just standing there and staring at my handiwork in awe as if this was something magical he'd never seen before. Like a child.
That was when I poured quite a bit of maple syrup into the pot, stirring it together as Liam's face contorted between shock and delight. I spoke into the silence in reply to his facial expressions, my grin somehow growing wider as I saw how mildly revolted he looked. "Don't worry about it being gross or anything. Just trust me. You won't regret it." His eyes bored into mine brighter and sharper than before, viridescent in a way I couldn't even comprehend. Something stung within me, white-hot and eating something away in myself I barely thought about.
I swallowed harshly into the air. "Here, bring me a bowl or something to put the food in." Liam's eyebrows twitched before he turned himself around and moseyed on over to the other side of the kitchen.
I felt the sensation of my eyes fluttering shut before I realized it, the soft hand on my shoulder dragging me back to reality. He'd returned pretty quickly. "Here. Also, don't space out. You look… sad."
I blinked a couple of times as he handed me two… mugs. Coffee mugs, to be exact.
"Um" was all I could muster as a sort of sly expression colored his face. "Hey, you didn't specify what type of dish you exactly needed. Kind of your fault on that." His cheeky grin smoothed on his face, beryl green greeting me pleasantly in the light of the room. The strong scent of strawberry wafted over to meet my eyes, and I flinched at the smell.
I shrugged in response, pulling the colander out of the sink and dumping all of it back into its original pot. Using a fork I'd grabbed from the dishwasher below me, I served the food somewhat tiredly. I felt as if I hadn't slept in ages, even though I was sleeping much more than I had at Markus's house. I stifled a yawn as I handed his… mug to Liam, nearly stumbling over to a chair and falling into it too fast.
Liam observed me the whole time as if he was looking at something even remotely interesting. Even though I tried to be polite about my movements, I saw the jade blazing from the corner of my eye, and had to tense my muscles just to keep from starting at the sight. I wondered, though… what thoughts were actually behind those eyes of his?
I'd thought about it before, many times. When he observed me like that, when his eyes rattled me beyond belief--what were his motives? What was the reason for doing it? Was it to simply make me wonder about it? Or perhaps…
Perhaps he's doing it just to make you freak out about Markus.
A scoff fell through my mouth before I could control it. 'Oh really? And how would that even work?'
A snarl ripped through the silence, darkness covering the hole it shot through immediately afterwards. Then I felt it. It--The sensation of my very soul being rocked back and forth, of bones shattering and fusing back together. Crumpling to the ground too quickly for me to comprehend it, I only caught sight of the horror above me for a moment. Only for a moment, until the familiar scent of strawberries and vanilla floated through the air, teeth glistening with crimson in the black. Off to the side, to my left, the shattered body of someone I knew all too well.
Cobalt shifts suspiciously in the onyx. It's almost coy. So sarcastic, so driven to inflict. But does it succeed in that task?
Yes. It does.
It's only a minute, a beat. A fraction of a nanosecond until I feel myself falling, until I feel the air drift into my stomach like I'm flying
And then I'm falling, falling falling
Who will catch me I sure as hell won't
Please don't hurt me But who am I kidding I deserve whatever you may do to me and I deserve all the pain you will inevitably put me through
Because
I came here by choice not by chance
It's not his fault but mine
Something near me, it appears in front of my eyes like magic It's something I don't want to see So I don't know why it came close to me in the first place
But I know I must face it otherwise who will do it for me
I can't think
I can't breathe
Because the air is being stolen from me someone is stealing it, I'm choking, I'm drowning. I'm dying.
SOMEONE IS STEALING IT FROM ME PLEASE DON'T TAKE IT IT'S ALL I HAVE LEFT PLEASE DON'T GO PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME BEHIND I LOVE YOU I WANT YOU PLEASE KEEP ME PLEASE CHERISH ME I CHERISH YOU TOO MUCH FOR YOU TO GO PLEASE DON'T DO THIS PLEASE DON'T RUIN ME PLEASE HOLD ME DEAR I WANT A HUG I WANT A KISS ON THE FOREHEAD I DESIRE COMFORT I DESIRE LOVE I AM LOVE AND I WANT IT I NEED IT DESPERATELY PLEASE DON'T TAKE IT, PLEASE DON'T TAKE MY AIR, PLEASE RESTORE MY ONLY RESOURCE TO ME PLEASE DON'T DESTROY ME
Please don't destroy me. That's my job.
The object near me is a wooden box or is it cardboard or plastic I don't know but who cares
Gravity dissipates from beneath me and suddenly I'm floating off the ground but still laying on my stomach I can't breathe and I'm dying I'm dying I'm dying
"You can kill me if you want"
Okay
The lid on the box lifts up from there being no force to weigh it down but what's inside drifts up as well
It's a knife
And I grasp onto it
Feeling the rough leather on the handle squeezing it tight like it is comfortable what I am about to do
And I drive it into my freezing flesh, into my dying lungs
And then And then And then
And then, I'm awake.
~~~
~Ramona~
The entire world and its existence floats away into thin air and rebuilds itself in the time that I opened my eyes.
It takes a few minutes before my eyes could even adjust, really. Although the imagery above me is still the same, I feel the need to blink several times before I can comprehend anything. But that only gives me time to hear it.
The violin, once more.
I think… that my hand twitches. I'm not sure what it was exactly that did. But perhaps it is that same hand that rubs my eyes, attempting to clean them in some sort of wayward manner. Where am I…?
The ceiling above me was once again littered with stars, navy blue and darkened even more by what I assumed was nighttime. My eyebrow twitching with the weight of my head as I sat up, I couldn't ignore the insistent pang in my temples. A strong, whirling headache that was quietly winding down without another word.
It took a beat before I realized I couldn't see the room around me. Completely shadowed, utterly and totally midnight black. No light, not even from a window. The moon was nonexistent apparently. As I eventually noticed the feeling back in my fingertips, I prodded the surface beneath me with slight curiosity. Plush, clean. Soft and dark gray in the light. So I was in Liam's bedroom--also known as the room I had been essentially stealing from Liam for the past two weeks while he slept god knows where.
I blinked, startled as my feet involuntarily swung off the edge of the bed. I was moving without thinking, thinking without boundaries. It was like I was only a spectator as I observed my body drift through the middle of the room, touching along the wall trying to feel around for the doorknob. When the familiar sensation of it brushed my fingers, I flinched before instantly grasping it and pulling it open.
More black awaited me in the hallway, and I wasn't surprised. I had no idea what time it was--so for it to be this dark…
Strings reverberated somewhere in the night, echoing amongst the walls like it was the only thing in the world. And to me, it was. The sound of the bow flying across the strings, of them trying to go somewhere it knew it would never reach. It plucked at the violin expectantly as if awaiting answers to an inquiry. It shouldered some deep burden that I knew I wouldn't understand even if I asked all the questions in the world itself.
The violin grew more and more intense as I approached the very end of the hallway. No one was out on the balcony but the overcast sky, so it could only be coming from… Liam's office.
The breath in my throat caught when I noticed the door ever-so-slightly ajar, as if expecting company. Chills ran fluid in my veins, causing my hands to tremble as I poked a finger through the crack in the door. Wrenching it open with only one finger is what I thought would work for me to simply observe--but the door swung open too quickly for me to realize it.
A loud squeak accompanied the door opening so suddenly, and full-body shivers coursed through me. Fear shook my heart back and forth violently as I saw the scenery standing in front of me.
There, shrouded in shadows and now-peeking moon, was Liam. His eyes drifted shut, long eyelashes following after. Blonde hair that looked pure white in the moonlight. Pale skin that kept shuddering to the left and right with every movement he made. And above him, the sky pockmarked with white constellations, pure and intense in a way I knew I wouldn't get.
In his hands, a violin colored by the moon bent under his chin and splayed on his extended arm. In his right hand, a bow, set directly on the strings yet not moving. Not moving, like he was waiting to play for a specific time. And then, quietly, burdened and slow, a soft voice waltzed into range.
"Hey, Ramona." Liam's eyes were both sad and tired by the time he opened them, observing me with dulled green. "Don't I just look… so dorky playing this?"
His eyebrows were slightly knitted together. He was asking something that he thought had a predetermined answer. Something that he thought was going to simply be outright true. But really, was it justice if I let a lie like that there to stew and simmer?
My eyes frozen to his expression, and my shoulders slumped somewhat, I felt another voice, a different one from Liam's. It didn't come from his direction. It came from mine.
An involuntary shake of my head seemed to break me apart. "No, Liam." His eye twitched at that, just barely moving his head an inch upwards to meet my gaze fully.
"You're you. And you are beautiful."