The Prisoner
By lewisx7x
- 643 reads
A story by Lewis Levinson
A drop of water hits my face. It startles me at first since I have been sleeping. As another drop hits my face I am alert. Normally a man would be angry that his roof is leaking. I am not a normal man, nor am I in a normal situation. As I look up at the ceiling I can see where the water is seeping through. The water reminds me of rainy days outside. It reminds me of rainbows that grow out of a shining sun that peeks through departing rain clouds. It reminds that I will never see anything like that again.
I am a prisoner. As I wake up I look at the bland earthen walls that encase me. I look down at the pile of hay that is, and will forever be, my bed. There are only two distractions from my prison’s walls. The first is a wooden door. The door remains locked indefinitely. No matter how hard I try, that door will not open. There is a metal gate at the bottom of the door that is just big enough to fit a metal bowl. Every day I receive two bowls filled with a cold broth. It is my food and my water. Thinking of this I lean my head back and open my mouth. As a drop of water hits my tongue a rush of pleasure runs through me. It is cold and refreshing. As the moments pass, drop by drop I am relieved of my morning thirst.
The second distraction is a barred window. It is far above my reach. When I first came to this place, it filled me with hope, being able to see outside. Slowly I came to the realization that I cannot truly see outside. The windows height angles my view so no matter how I look at it, I only see stone. The light that fills my cell torments me, always reminding me of a beautiful world outside. A world I will never be part of.
The beams of sunlight that come into my cell begin to stir memories in my brain. I pretend to feel the sunlight as it takes me back to a time when I was happy. It was a time when people called me Daniel.
“Daniel, you have such beautiful eyes. You do know that don’t you?” the most beautiful woman in the world says to me. Her name is Gwen, and she is my wife.
“You only remind me every day,” I tease, “How could I ever forget?” I pull her face to mine and kiss her ever so gently. She pulls me close and embraces me passionately. I could freeze this moment forever but she pulls away and grabs me by the hand. We run through the grass fields outside of our small village of Oak. My free hand grazes the tall grass as I enjoy the sun’s warmth. I look over at Gwen and see the curves of her body through her plain dress. No matter how bland that dress is on her, she is simply breath taking. She turns to me and lets her blonde hair fall on to her shoulder. My eyes lock with her beautiful blue ones.
“You know, no matter how pretty you say my eyes are, they pale in comparison with yours.” I smile. She blushes ever so slightly and leads me under a tree where she wraps her arms around me. We look up into the tree and see birds nesting in the branches.
“Look Daniel, they are like the one you made me.” She says as she points to the tree. Of course I already knew that. To win her heart, I had carved and painted a beautiful blue bird for her.
As my mind attempts to picture the wooden bird I am pulled back into reality by a bang. It has come from the prison’s door. The metal shaft on the bottom opens up and a bowl is slid underneath. Broth splashes onto the dirt floor. It is my breakfast.
When I go to pick up my bowl a white rat scurries out of a small crevice in my wall. It slurps up the spilt broth as I do the same with mine. It pays no attention to me and I do not mind its presence. It feels nice to have some company. Its beady red eyes should seem menacing but to me they only convey fear and hunger. I feel sorry for the creature so I put my bowl down and shove it in the rat’s direction. At first it moves away but then it slowly approaches the bowl.
“That’s it little one.” I say with a smirk. It is surprising how much joy this little rat brings me. It climbs inside the bowl and begins to feast. I don’t mind sharing my meal as it is nothing worth hording. It has a slight taste of meat but is mostly water. I slowly move my hand to the rat and gently pet it. The rat is startled at first but is too concerned with its meal to mind me. As I pet it I can’t help but thinking of all the animals in my old village.
Oak is a small farmer’s village. As a boy I helped my father care for the horses. I loved the animals. I could pet them all day. Every family in Oak had a certain job. Some were harvesters and others cared for the livestock. We had merchants as well as a governor who would take our lord’s share to the castle. There was one job I seemed to think about a lot though. The caregivers. That is where Gwen worked. When I was thirteen years old I had hurt myself playing with the other children. I had tripped and landed on my arm, bending it in a way it was not supposed to. I tried my best not to cry but I could not help it, the pain was more than I could bear.
Gwen immediately helped me up and brought me to the caregivers building. As she put my arm in a sling and cleaned my scrapes I just stared at her in awe. She was so beautiful, with flowing blonde hair and blue eyes. Her face was plain but breathtaking at the same time. While I was mesmerized by her I had all but forgotten about my pain.
“How does that feel?” she asked me. I started to blush and look away. Had she realized I had been staring at her? She started to laugh.
“Are you ok Daniel? Cat got your tongue?”
“Uh…no, its fine thank you Gwen.” I stammered.
“Good, you won’t be able to use your arm for a few weeks so it’s best to just take it easy.”
“Alright…” I said. She walked towards the window. Birds were chirping.
“I just love blue birds. They are so pretty.” She turned to me. “Don’t you wish you could fly?” I just stared for a second and I could feel my cheeks getting hot.
“I never really thought about it.” I finally responded.
“They are so free; they can go where ever they want. They don’t have to worry about the village, or the lord, or even the king!” I was dumbfounded by her.
“Well when you put it that way…yes I do wish I could fly.” She smiled at me and I felt my stomach get tight.
A clang brings me back to my senses. No longer in the warm caregiver’s center I am faced with the cold damp cell. My little friend has escaped back into his crevice. He seemed to flip my bowl over trying to get out of it. I put my bowl back by the door and only a moment passes by before the metal shaft opens and a gloved hand takes my bowl. I decide I need some exercise.
My cell is small but it is round so I walk along the wall. It feels nice to move around. I run my hand against the wall. It is smooth and cool. It feels nice. While I walk I look down at myself. I wear what is basically a large brown sack. My legs are filthy and my toe nails are like daggers. I barely recognize myself.
A mirror is a luxury that exists only in my memory. My father had purchased one from the local market. I was fixated on my appearance. I had never really looked at myself before. My face was plain but my eyes had a radiant shade of green. My brown hair was a mess. I spit into my hand and tried to push my hair down the best I could. This day was going to be very important.
Years had passed since my injury and Gwen and I had developed a very close friendship. We would hold hands and confide in each other great secrets and dark fears. One night she had come to visit me in the stable.
“The horses are beautiful.” She said to me. I was startled as I was not expecting her.
“Yes.” I recovered. “They have been the most beautiful things in my life until…”
Gwen moved very close to me. “Until what, Daniel?”
“Until I met you…” my face was burning red. It was the first time I verbalized how I had felt for Gwen. She said nothing, only grabbing my hand and pulling me lose. That was the first time we had kissed.
As I stared in the mirror trying to straighten my white collar I peered at the reflection of my gift to Gwen behind me. It was a wooden replica of a blue bird. I had been working on it for weeks. I had gone into the woods on numerous days to observe the birds while they sat in the tree tops. I had been saving my measly earnings forever to be able to afford the blue paint that made the wood come to life.
I stared at the wooden bird for a long time, scrutinizing it for flaws. Though my mind could not let go of the idea that this gift was not good enough, I could not see anything inherently wrong with it. I was going to give Gwen this gift and ask for her hand in marriage. I looked again at myself in the mirror. My clothes were wrinkled and my tan pants had dirt stains. I had been up late the night before doing my best to clean them so there was little else I could do to improve my appearance. I took a deep breath and grabbed the wooden bird.
As I walked through the village towards the spot where I was to meet Gwen, the sun was shining brightly and there was a nice breeze flowing through Oak. It had seemed as if someone or something was definitely up above smiling down on me. As I got closer to the field where we spent most of our days together my heart started to race. The concept that Gwen could deny me ran through my mind. It was the worst thing that could happen. I would be devastated. Every couple of seconds my mind would tell me to give up, things are good the way they are. But my resolve would kick in and reaffirm that I wanted more with Gwen.
I made it to our tree before Gwen, so I place the bird behind the tree out of sight and leaned against the tree. The cool breeze passed over me and I closed my eyes. I shut off my mind and enjoyed this very moment. The sun peeked through the trees warming me slightly. The breeze grazed over every part of my body. For a moment all of my anxiousness disappeared. I was just a man at peace. Then I felt warm lips caress my own.
I opened my eyes and embraced Gwen. Every kiss from her was like a gift I didn’t deserve.
“You look very handsome today!” Gwen said as she caressed my Sunday shirt.
“Thanks, but it is nothing compared to you.” I blushed. I just stared at her for what seemed to be forever as she smiled at me with her beautiful blue eyes. She then leaned her head on my chest.
“Your heart is beating so fast…are you alright?” she asked me.
“Yes, there is something I want to give you.” I attempted a smile but my fear of rejection pierced through it.
“Daniel, you didn’t have to…” she stopped as I pulled out the carved bird. She walked over, transfixed on it, and took it from my hands. She moved her hand down the wooden body. The bird was painted blue on the outside, with a white belly and white markings on the wings. She pushed on the birds pointed beak and pulled away. It was rather sharp. She looked at me. “It’s beautiful…” she moved to me and kissed me.
“Gwen, I love you. I want you to be my wife.” I said weakly, fear straining every one of my syllables.
Her eyes began to water and she embraced me passionately. “Of course I will be your wife. I love you Daniel.”
Kisses under a beautiful sky fade away as a chill sweeps my cell. I have no choice but to sit in my hay bed and tuck my legs into the sack that is my clothes. I huddle into myself trying to retain as much heat as possible as the sun yields to the night. Nights this time of year are especially cold. My cell door is pounded as my final meal of the day is slid underneath. My heart skips a beat at the thought of the warmth from my bowl. As I move to grab it I am overcome with despair as the bowl is cold to the touch. If my meal had ever been cooked, the heat has long since abandoned it.
As I pick the bowl up my little white friend makes his second appearance. I spill some of my broth onto the cell floor and the rat does not hesitate to partake. I pet its back and this time it does not shy away. Perhaps in this dreadful place the rat is in dire need of friendship as I am and has quickly given me its trust.
I slurp down the cold broth. It has congealed and as it goes down I have to fight the urge to throw it back up. If I throw up, I will have lost a meal. When we have both finished the rat stays in place as I pet it. I decide to name it. But what would make a fitting name? As I rack my brain for a good name, I think yet again of Oak.
Every month Oak was host to a bazaar. Merchants from the surrounding villages join our local ones to peddle their goods. It was a festive time as the whole village takes the day off and joins with people from the surrounding villages. Many performers also set up areas at the bazaar. I took my new bride to a performer’s tent. For a small price many people gathered in a cramped space with a tiny wooden stage.
Gwen and I were squished close together, clutching each other’s hands tightly. For some reason, waiting for the show to start was a rather peculiar moment in my life. Gwen’s smooth hands were tightly wound around my own as I squeezed back into hers, trying to not let her go. In this instant I thought as if I was trying desperately to grab on to something that no matter how hard I could try, I would never own. A shiver ran down my spine as I contemplated that fact. I was quickly removed from that train of thought as the performer came onto the stage.
An elderly man who was very tall and slender appeared before the crowd holding a long, thin sword. He smiled at the crowd, revealing a mouth void of teeth, while presenting the blade to everyone. Next to him was a piece of wood, about two feet high.
“Would a member of the audience be so kind as to do me a simple favor?” the elderly performer asked. At first everyone was hesitant as the man was holding a dangerous weapon. Then Gwen kissed me on the cheek and stood up.
“I will!” She shouted. I was taken aback. I did not expect her to be the one to volunteer. An odd pang of jealously swept through me momentarily, though I did not know why.
“Excellent my dear,” the man picked up the piece of wood and handed it to her, “I would like you to throw this at me as hard as you can.” The whole crowd gasped, myself included. Gwen had a devilish smile on her face.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“Yes, my dear, do not worry about me.” The old man said behind a gummy smile. Gwen did not have to be asked twice. She lifted the wood behind her head with both arms and flung it at the old man. I held my breath as the wood flew at the old man. In an instant the man sliced the wood into two pieces that barely grazed him. I was in complete awe as the crowd cheered. It took me a second to start clapping. It was one of the most amazing things I had ever seen.
“That was amazing!” Gwen said to me as we walked out of the tent into the bazaar. She wove her fingers into mine sending a calming sensation through me. It was if I was waiting since the time her hand had left mine previously for it to return, making me whole again.
“Yes, can you imagine a man so old being so fast?” I asked astounded. As Gwen and I spoke of small things, lightly kissing every once in a while we were stopped by a short man. He was balding gracelessly. He had a pointed face, accentuated by a long pointy nose. At the very tip of that nose was a black mole, with strands of hair growing out resembling whiskers.
“Care to buy the beautiful lady a wonderful necklace?” the man squawked out. His voice was high and hoarse, cracking many times. I held the ‘necklace’ in my hand. It was a painted stone tied in a very rough rope.
“Uh…” I murmured. I did not want to shell out money for such a poorly made item, but I was unaccustomed to such confrontations and I did not know how to proceed. My eyes must have revealed my inner thoughts to Gwen because as I looked at her she took the rope from me.
“What is your name little man?” she projected strongly.
“Wha…I am called Horace, you sharp tongued woman! You, sir,” Horace looked towards me, “do you let your woman talk this way? It is unbecoming!” though his words were eloquent, his voice made them sound like dribble. My face turned red. This man insulted my love, yet I could not find the courage inside me to defend her honor. Only a moment passed, though to me it felt much longer, before Gwen slapped Horace in the face.
“Take your filth; it isn’t worth anything you rat!” Gwen said as she grabbed my hand and together we stormed off.
The little rat’s nose moved around my hand getting accustomed to my scent. As the last emotions of that past memory faded from me, I knew exactly what this little rat would be called.
“Alright little Horace, I believe it is time for bed. I hope that name is alright my friend. You look so similar to a Horace I used to know a long time ago, although I like you much better.” I gave the rat one last pet before laying my head down and giving myself over to the darkness of sleep.
I was awoken by the swinging open of my cell door and several pairs of footsteps entering. I felt Horace quickly jump from my hand, hopefully to hide in his little crevice. I knew what was in store for me.
Randomly at night I would hear the same noises in cells close to mine, individuals I did not know even existed until these very moments. Shortly after, I would hear screams that could haunt a normal man’s dreams. They used to haunt mine until I became accustom to them. But this was the first time it would be my cell. My screams.
From what I could tell there were four men. Their faces were covered with black hoods that only revealed their eyes. As one picked me up I stared right into his eyes. They were bloodshot and glazed over. It was as if he was blind. I heard my cell’s door close. It’s funny how I grew this concept of ownership over ‘my’ cell. In reality I am the cell’s prisoner.
A fist rushed full force into my stomach. All the air that was presently in my lungs came rushing out. I tried desperately to breath but I couldn’t. As I bent over grasping my stomach one of the guard’s knees impacted with my face. I flew up against the cell’s wall as I felt a warm sensation pour down my chin. My nose was bleeding. I went to grab my nose but two other guards grabbed my arms and pinned me against the wall. The other two guards took turns beating me. The pain grew and grew until it reached a maxing out point. As darkness slowly started to circle around my vision I once again thought of Gwen.
We were making love. Our hands interlocked as our bodies fed off each other. We were connected by flesh and mind. My body continually pulled towards her. Gwen’s eyes were closed as she licked her lips in pleasure. My breathing was heavy as I continually grinded into her. Her body moved with mine as her breathing deepened. Sweat dripped from my brow as every part of my being was electrified in pleasure. Intensity from below was pulling me in. Gwen’s eyes opened as the blood rushed to her head. She let out a loud cry as her body trembled. In that moment I lost control of myself to the yearning below and my very being was released into Gwen. We remained in the same position for a moment before I lay at her side. She curled up beside me and closed her eyes.
Rain was pouring against our roof. The sound of the water hitting the roof and flowing down onto the ground splashing into puddles was soothing. I peered from the grey sky outside encompassed in rainfall to our bedrooms table. On top was the very blue bird I had made for Gwen. It lay motionless but so full of life perched on the table. As I thought of how that very bird had led me to this wonderful moment there was a loud banging at our door.
“Gwen! You must come quickly, there is somebody injured out here!” a man from the village yelled. In an instant Gwen was up and getting changed. I quickly followed suit.
As we opened our door to the outside we were bombarded with wind and rain. It was much worse than it sounded from inside. The earthen pathways had turned to slush as our feet sank with each step. My clothes became soaked within a few moments of being outside. Gwen and I noticed a crowd of townspeople gathering a few yards ahead of us. Gwen picked up her pace and left me behind struggling through the mud with each step.
I watched her disappear within the crowd as I gruelingly pressed on towards them. The rain and wind made it hard to see and hear anything more than a few feet ahead of me. Within a matter of minutes, or perhaps seconds as time was so hard to measure at that moment, I came upon the crowd. I placed my hand on soaking wet backs in an effort to get them to move out of my way. Eventually I made it to the center of the crowd where Gwen was on her knees. Rain and wind slashed my face as I tried to make out who or what was in front of her.
A man was lying in front of us all. He was covered in mud and blood. How long had he been lying there? Where did he come from? It was impossible to even make out the end of his trail as the rain washed away any tracks in the mud. As I pondered these questions Gwen had the man’s wrist in her hand with her thumb placed directly beneath his thumb. I had seen her do this countless times, she was measuring his heartbeat.
Gwen removed her shirt without a second’s hesitation and began to clean the blood and dirt from the man’s face. Although she was still wearing her under blouse and she was helping a man who could possibly be dying, an intense pang of jealousy swelled within me. The depths of my own selfishness had never been apparent to me until that very moment. I wanted the whole crowd to disappear. I wanted that man to truly be dead. Only I was to see what the rain was making abundantly clear to all through her white under blouse.
“Denise, quickly, we must get this man to the infirmary!” Gwen yelled. Denise seemed to materialize from within the crowd and helped Gwen carry the man off. A few of the other caregivers appeared and helped Gwen and Denise carry the man. As the crowd dissipated I followed the caregivers.
The caregiver’s building was a two story house. The second floor housed the infirmary. It was basically a room full of beds and tools needed to heal the sick and wounded. Shutting the door behind me I was immediately surrounded by the warmth the shelter provided. The past few moments were so intense I did not seem to notice how cold I truly was.
“Daniel, I can’t let you go up there right now, you’ll only distract them. Plus you are filthy; here let me get you some clothes and a wash cloth.” Mary Bell the caregiver said as she walked into a back room. As I waited I looked around the room and noticed a few benches and tables. This was the room Gwen had once cared for me. Suddenly I felt an intense need to see Gwen. I looked and noticed Mary Bell had not returned so I had made my way to the stairs. The stair way was dark but as I made my way up light had been poking through a crack in the door. It wasn’t closed all the way so I pushed it a tad just to see. In a room full of empty beds all the caregivers were centered around one a few feet in front of me. There was a lot of commotion and moving about. As some of the caregivers moved to gather new cloth or supplies I was finally able to catch a glimpse of Gwen. Her two hands were holding the injured man’s one as they just stared at each other.
“Daniel! What did I tell you?! Come down here this instant!” Mary Bell had caught me and was pulling me down stairs. As she wiped my face and undressed me I kept thinking about what I had just witnessed. Though only perhaps a second or two had passed I had absorbed every minute detail. Her hands were locked around his in a way that seemed more than simply that of a caregiver. They had both been locked in a gaze with each other, similarly to that of lovers. I kept telling myself it was just my imagination, a byproduct of my selfish jealousy. Then I realized it was the first time I had noticed the man’s appearance. His face was symmetrically perfect. His nose was pointed and fit his face adequately. As he was cleaner now since the caregivers had washed him, I noticed how muscular he was. Where I was lean he was large and tone. His muscles were clearly defined which helped fuel the fires of my jealousy. He was everything at which I hated myself subconsciously for lacking. Before this moment that subconscious hatred would only manifest itself for quick moments, whenever I had passed a handsome man on the street, or when Gwen’s eye wandered to other men. Until now though, those moments had passed quickly.
My mind had been circling around Gwen and the mysterious man. Some moments my mind would defend our love, stating that nothing could happen between the two and she was my beloved. Other moments my jealousy and self-doubt took hold and spun out of control with images of passion between the two. I had eventually dozed off when I was awoken by a shake on the shoulder. My eyes focused on Gwen. She was covered in filth but she had never looked more beautiful to me. I attempted to grab her hand when she pulled away.
“Daniel, you should go home…I’m going to stay with some of the other caregivers for a while to make sure he is alright.” Gwen said.
“Won’t he be fine without you? They should be alright…come home…”I replied.
“No…I’m the only one who can truly act if things go bad…he has lost a lot of blood. He has no memory Daniel…” her eyes started to water, “he doesn’t even know who he is.”
It was pointless, I knew Gwen better than anyone and once she has made up her mind, nothing was going to change it. I went in to kiss her goodbye, and though she acquiesced to me, all efforts for a passionate kiss were shot down. My mind battled with itself stating on one side that her kiss was weak because she was tired and on the other that her love for me has faded. As I had made my way back home in the drying mud only two thoughts had comforted me. One was that it had finally stopped raining and the other was that I was finally too exhausted to focus on any negative thoughts of jealousy.
How long had it been since the guards have beaten me half to death I do not know. I had awoken and from the light that filled my cell I could tell most of the day had already passed. I could see little Horace enjoying my dinner. As I attempted to sit up pain shocked every part of my body. Horace jumped at my involuntary gasps of pain. After a moment he crawled over to me and started to sniff my face. I felt his tiny tongue on my face. Though I hoped it was a sign of affection I knew it probably had more to do with the dried blood that had no doubt covered my face.
After a while had passed I knew I had to attempt to move. My arms luckily did not seem to bother me. That probably had more to do with the fact that I was not allowed to use them to block the serious of blows that had bombarded me last night. Everything else, on the other hand, hurt so horrendously that every movement made me cry out in pain. I started scratching at the wall to assist in pulling myself up. Eventually I was able to prop myself against the wall in a semi standing position. My legs throbbed with pain as I applied pressure to them so I used the wall to hold myself up. Unfortunately my back was burning with pain as I propped up against it. I was in bad shape. I stood still of a few minutes so I could adjust to the pain. Then I attempted to walk. It only took one step before my body gave up and collapsed on the floor. The initial fall caused tremendous pain but it quickly dissipated into a moderate constant ache. Horace climbed up onto my chest and fell asleep. Though the pain I felt was keeping me awake, I took solace in the fact that this pain was nothing compared to the pain I had felt before I had arrived in this place.
I remember that first morning after that injured man arrived at Oak. The sound of birds chirping woke me up. I groggily felt around for Gwen as I had done countless mornings beforehand. After a few seconds of searching I realized she was not in our bed. The sheets were in perfect order on her side; she had not come to bed at all. In another instant the memories of the past night flooded my brain. My heart started to hasten and I needed to see Gwen. The darkness within me that was of jealousy and doubt was growing stronger.
I left our bedroom and before I could begin my search I heard someone in my kitchen. When I got there I was half-heartedly greeted by Gwen.
“Good morning Daniel.” She said to me as she was preparing breakfast.
“Why didn’t you come to bed last night?” I said hoarsely.
“I…got home very late and I did not want to wake you, I slept in the living room.” There was a slight hesitation in her voice.
“You know I would have only been filled with joy to be awakened by you my love.” I went over to embrace her. After a small kiss she pushed me away and grabbed what she had prepared on the stove.
“You must eat your breakfast before it gets cold.” She handed me a plate of eggs and porridge. As I began to eat I noticed she had wrapped up a serving in cloth.
“You’re not going to eat with me?” I said startled.
“No…I already ate. I’m going to bring some food to our new guest. He had a rough night last evening. He will need something in him.”
The monster growing inside began to stir. Before I could come up with a reason for her to stay she was out the door. I was left alone with my cooling meal and thoughts that would turn any man’s stomach. Once again I was caught in an internal struggle between trusting my beloved and a growing fear that I was losing Gwen. She had given me no reason to doubt her faithfulness before so I knew not where this new feeling of jealousy was deriving from.
As the days passed I saw less and less of Gwen. She kept telling me that “our guest” was still in need of care. She would tell me that she was so close to restoring his memory. I grew weary of her excuses to go to the infirmary day in and day out.
“Why must you always go there!?” I demanded one night.
“Please lower your voice to me, Daniel.” Gwen urged.
“I cannot! For the last week you have barely spent time with me! And I can’t recall I moment since this man arrived that you have shared my bed!”
“Just what are you implying, dear?” she had begun to raise her voice.
“Who is this man to you? I have never seen you give this much attention to a patient before. Can not one of the other care givers provide adequate service to him for not but one full day!?” That had done it. She walked right up to me with a stern look in her eyes and slapped me across the face. Without a word she stormed out, to the caregivers place no doubt.
My rage boiled inside me. I was too angry at Gwen’s ‘fascination’ with the man staying in the infirmary. I needed to vent so I went behind the house to the old stable. After our marriage my father gave me his home as a gift and went to visit his brother a few towns over. The horses I was so fond of had passed away shortly after his absence. I was not a bad caregiver of them, they were just old.
There was still hay spread out over the floor. A few saddles hung on the walls as well as a few sparse tools used for cleaning the stables. I grazed my hand over them remembering when I was younger and had to use the tools to clean around the stable. First there was the pitchfork for moving the hay. It still had a smooth wooden shaft and its three prongs were still sharp to the touch. Next was the shovel, which I just moved with the handle as it was used to pick up the horses dung I was not apt to touch the actual shovel. Some brushes and combs to care for the horses also lay amongst the tools.
Holding a brush I remembered countless times I would sit by the horses and groom them. It was very peaceful and left me to my subtle thoughts. Though I missed those moments immensely, just thinking about them had calmed me down. Perhaps I had been to rash. I decided I would go see Gwen and apologize. Then I would greet the new visitor and get to know him. Hopefully all this nonsense would be behind me by the days end.
As I walked out of the stable I realized I must have lost track of time. The sun had set already and gave way to the night. It was no matter as I knew Gwen would not be home as of yet. The night breeze was mild and refreshing as I walked through the streets of Oak. The only noise to be heard was coming from the tavern on the other side of town. Most of the people were already asleep. I finally came across the caregiver’s building; the lights were still on in the windows. As I made my way closer I peered toward the second level windows. The moment my eyes met with the window closest to me on the second level I was stopped dead in my tracks. Gwen stood before me wrapped in the embrace of the mysterious man.
The air around me had solidified. The blood in my ears was pounding louder than ever before. Time ceased to exist as the moment dragged on for what could have been forever. My stomach was forcing itself up my throat. My mouth became dry, as if someone had shoved innumerable cotton balls within it. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t breathe, and all I could do was remain fixated on the greatest betrayal to have ever befallen me.
My heart was beating faster and faster. Soon my doubtful darkness became a reality, as if it had been there to foretell of this moment. To prepare me, if that was at all possible. I tried to think of how to handle this but with the combination of my heart’s intense beating and my stomach’s pull in every direction at once I began to get dizzy. Soon the darkness began to fill every aspect of my being. Though I could not envision what I could do, my darkness began to lead the way.
I became almost numb as I headed back to my home. Tears poured slightly from my eyes. As I made it to my front door all my emotions hit me at once. I fell to my knees and cried out in vain. I cried harder and harder until I started to heave, gasping for air. As it became harder to breathe through my cries I would heave harder until finally I began to vomit and passed out.
When I awoke it was still night and the vomit around me was still partially wet. I wasn’t out that long. Physically I had improved, my heart rate had normalized and I had no problem breathing. The only issue that remained was almost crippling pull from my stomach, but it was different. It felt similar to a great hunger. My darkness was filled with desire, a desire for action.
I was no longer crippled by emotion. I was now driven by this darkness which seemed to reside within my stomach. The next series of actions were no longer entirely my own. I submitted to the will of my darkness.
The next thing I knew I was in the stable. My hand was wrapped around the pitchfork. I ran my hand up the smooth handle. It felt cool in my clammy hands. It wasn’t until this moment that I realized I was covered in sweat. I grabbed the pitchfork and headed towards the caregiver’s building.
The breeze chilled me to the bone as it grazed my sweaty body. As I opened the door to the caregiver’s place I noticed Mary Bell asleep at the front desk. The next thing I quickly took notice of was the subtle noise created as two people made love. I heard a man’s heavy breathing and my own Gwen’s slight gasps of ecstasy. My heart quickened as the darkness pulled at my stomach. As I moved towards the stairs the floor creaked and Mary Bell awoke.
“Daniel…what are you doing here?” she said with a frightened look. It was justified as I must have looked horrible covered in sweat and vomit while holding a pitchfork. I had no time for her so I lifted up the pitchfork and swung the butt end of the shaft at her head with extreme force. The shaft vibrated in my hand as it connected with her skull. It was an odd sensation that I neither took pleasure in nor took pity. There was no need for a second strike as she collapsed on the ground immediately after I had hit her. Blood slowly oozed out of where I had struck her and was staining the floor upon which she lay.
I made my way towards the stairs. As I slowly climbed higher and higher, the sounds of betrayal became more audible.
“Fuck me, Zachariah!” Never had I heard Gwen say such things to me. That fact only made the darkness pull harder at my stomach. I ran up the remaining stairs and within seconds I had kicked down the door. They were there in front of me, completely naked and connected to each other on one of the beds.
“Daniel?! What are you doing here? Let me explain!” she pleaded. She was covered in sweat. Her eyes moved towards the pitchfork and she moved towards me. “Wait!”
I took her with my free hand and shoved her to the ground behind me with a force I did not know I had. The man, Zachariah (so he did have a name) came at me. With no hesitation I shoved the pronged end of my pitchfork into his abdomen. He let out a gasp and became nothing more than a marionette to my pitchfork. I pushed forward forcing him to be flung off my weapons and falling into the bed he used to destroy my life. Blood quickly gushed out of his stomach as he tried desperately to stop the bleeding with his hands.
I spun the fork around and started to beat him with the butt end of the shaft. First I assaulted his legs, breaking the shin bones and knee caps. He cried out loudly after each blow. Next I pummeled his chest, breaking his ribs so that they started to rip through his skin.
“Please….stop…” Zachariah said in vain. As I looked over his mangled body the darkness in me forced a smile. While I scanned his broken naked body, I noticed his member, which he used to defile the sanctity of my marriage. It, along with everything else about him was better than me. The thought of such things drove me mad. Quickly I spun the pitchfork around bringing the pronged end towards him.
“I can’t stop…not now. Not after you fucked my wife!” I screamed, anger coiled around every word that left my mouth. I shoved the fork right into his genitals. He screamed louder than I had ever heard someone scream before. Blood and other entrails immediately soaked the bed. I let him suffer for a moment, relishing every second of it. My darkness was almost satisfied. There was only one thing left to do. I pulled the fork out of him and positioned it above his heart. He looked into my eyes for a moment and I could see acceptance. One last set of tears left his eyes as he shut them and put his head down. With all the strength I could muster I pushed the fork down into his heart. He gave one last gasp of pain before becoming silent.
I stared at Zachariah’s corpse for a few minutes, until the darkness had finally had its fill. Some of my senses began returning to me. What was to be done with Gwen? I knew deep down I still loved her, so not matter how she had wronged me I could not harm her. Could I fix this? Could we still be together? Of course I knew these were fool’s dreams but I entertained them anyway. She had been awfully quiet for this whole ordeal.
I turned to her beautiful naked body still lying on the floor. I went over to her when I realized something was wrong. She wasn’t moving and her eyes remained fixed upon the ceiling.
“Gwen?!” I said grabbing her. When I lifted her she seemed to disconnect with something beneath her. I felt blood at her neck. I looked down and I was startled to see the blue bird I had made for her. It was mixed within some of her other things. Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized when I pushed her down her neck was pierced by the birds sharp beak, killing her. I just held her in my arms as I cried. Even in death, and even after what she had done to me, she was still beautiful. The next thing that happened startled me for a moment. Mary Bell was at the door screaming. I looked at her for a second, which sent her running downstairs. I was not going to chase her. My darkness was satisfied. My beloved was dead by my own hands. I had no desire left for anything. I pulled Gwen close and laid one last kiss upon her cold lips. Then I closed my eyes and awaited the swift justice that was to result from my actions.
It had been a few years since I had rocked the foundations of my old village, Oak. I was given a life sentence to this prison, as my crimes were that of passion they did not send me to my death. As my body aches from the beating I had received the previous night, my heart aches in memory of Gwen. Not a day goes by where I do not think of my time with her. Though it brings me pleasure to remember her face, her smile, and her eyes, it is my real prison as it will forever bring me pain. As I lay oddly contorted on the ground from my injuries I look up towards my cell’s window. A tear trickles down my cheek as I smile. It is the first time that I have ever successfully seen the outside world through the barred window. I see a few stars twinkle in the sky right before I close my eyes and finally fall asleep.
The End
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Comments
I just took a very swift
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hits my face... unless you
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I agree, Sooz said it all.
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Finding errors in your own
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