Part Two (& One)

She awoke with a start, her cheek pressed to the cold cement floor. Her mouth was parched, and her frightened heart hammered in her skull. Drawing the sheet more tightly around her, she shivered, realizing now, her nudity. 

“Finally awake!” A hoarse voice jeered at her. “Good morning princess. Have some water!”

She rose into a cross legged position, a bowl flew through the slot in the evil latitudinal bars. Drops flew into the air as the bowl cylindrically crashed to the floor, then trembled with increasing frequency. 

It’s raining from my eyes. She thought, and memories from the previous day flooded in. 

She remembered God’s tears splashing her face as she sprinted down the road. Her husband had called her name, dampened and far away. She had been overcome with desire to feel the rain on her naked body, washing off the sticky sweat and shame of summer…

The previous night:

Each sticatto droplet fell loud and sharp on her skin. Her brunette ringlets, caught by the weight of the rain, fell individually into her face. Brushing them away she cackled, thinking of those hiding in thier vinal boxes from the wetness. Her heart bursting, its squeeze forced an unbreakable manic smile. Energy surged and rippled throughout her body.

A shadowed man ran at her and was sprayed with water as she haulted her race in a rainbow puddle. She turned to break into a sprint, his hands grazing her slippery flank. Her heart and head bounded, the ultimate race. As she ran from Death’s grasp another shadowed man came at her, as his spindly arms reached for her, she again swiveled and slipped on the devil’s black muck, she fell to the ground. They towered over her, and laughed.

“Dude this bitch is crazy!” One of the shadoow creatures half laughed half shouted.

They each grabbed a muddy arm too firmly and her bellow was lost in the rains deafening intensity.

Her hands were bound behind her, cold, tight, painful. She was carried through the rain’s blur and her face pushed down onto a leather seat, her feet planted firmly on the ground. She felt warm hands caressing her body and anger shot through her. She stuggled, the ultimate fight.

“Hey! She’s too strong, hold her down!”

A hand firm pressed her face to the seat, and she inhaled the leather. She cried out as rough fingers and sharp nails scraped inside of her. There was no way she would let the Devil have her. Like an angry stallion, she kicked her right foot back and up, and the shadow man hollared as she made contact with his testicles. The momentary weakened grasp allowed her to stand, the other figure grabbed her from behind. As he leaned in to shout in her ear she tucked her chin, then snapped her head backward, a crunch then a wail indicating success. Spinning around she watched the miraculous red stream flow down his furious face. She smiled wickedly before she was thrown forcefully into the back of the car.


She wanted to be a fairy: sparkly translucent wings, and delicate tiny bodies. She gazed out of her dirt streaked bedroom window into the flower garden, but try as she must, squinting did not reveal any magic.

Ritualistically placing her hands over her ears to hide from the commotion, she dreamed. If only she could be airy and blithe, pause and pose on a flower petal and paint the morning world with dew. Her emerging grin was abruptly cut off by the heinous screeching. She tensed a moment, then took refuge, leaping into bed, her favorite pillow covering her lovely blond head.

From her delicate perch, she frowned at the old house. Not only had they taken over this beautiful world’s appearance, they dominated smell, taste, touch, and at this very moment, sound. 

She couldn’t take it anymore. 

Spreading her crystalline wings, she bent her knees and sprung away from the dewy garden and towards the angry home.

The male human was large and red in the face, and at this moment at the peak of his anger. She had been observing them, the male and female humans. And knew of their power, rage and destruction.

When she reached the noisy place she dove down near the man’s ear. “A FUCKING FLY!”He swung at her and missed. She delicately perched in the center of the table, her heart raced and as the rolled newspaper sped towards her she did not flinch because she knew she was ready.