The Secret Life of Blythe

1. Leo

The warehouse is silent, except for the steady drip of water hitting the ground. I look up to see a hole in the roof, letting the moonlight shine through with rain drizzle, casting a spotlight over a man on his knees on the wet concrete floor. His arms tied behind his back, his head bowed as if he's accepted the predicament he finds himself in. A shot fires, pigeons squark and fly off, leaving feathers fluttering down on to the man as his body slumps to the cold floor. My feet free themselves, no longer routed to the concrete. I walk slowly toward the crumpled body as the metallic smell of blood hangs in the hair as I bend down towards him. His eyes are open, bright green, an older version of myself. No, No, not him, anyone but him I shout, as my father's face stares back at me.

I fly up in bed at the sensation of falling, just before the Alarm Clock blasts out the familiar sound of Bruce Springsteen's I'm on fire.  Jesus, fuck.  I lower my head to my knees trying to calm myself down.  It was just a Nightmare. The same one I've had many times over the years. I swallow back the bile in my mouth and lay back down staring up at the whooshing sound of the ceiling fan.  Calm down Leo, I chant to myself several times over.

I turn to face the beam of light coming through a gap in the curtains, light particles float around in all colours of the rainbow landing on her. I bend my elbow, resting my head on my hand and run featherlight fingers over her face and down her arm. Skin like silk, toned and blemish free. I tuck some loose hair behind her ear and bring my lips to hers. Hmm, she smiles opening her sleepy eyes to stare in to mine.  It never gets old waking up next to the women of my dreams, my now wife and soon to be mother of my first born child.

I met Blythe six years ago. I was at rock bottom. Barely hanging on by a thread.  I'd already used up my nine lives and by all accounts I shouldn't be here today.  She was going through her own trauma, having lost her father, her only family. The circumstances of his death, still remain unclear and shady as fuck if you ask me.  Although Blythe says little about it these days, I know she's still searching for her own answers. 

"His favourite song" she croons. I wonder if she's noticed that it's always on the radio, it plays at odd times. It's an old song and I find it creepy as fuck that we keep hearing it.
"I think maybe your father's haunting us baby"
"I wouldn't put it past him" she says as the dimple in her cheek forms with a side smile.
I can't dampen the hope in her eyes, these little "signs" are what keep her going.

The moment I laid eyes on her in that clinic six years ago, I knew she was special. I found strength by talking to her about my shitty life and where it all went wrong. She was the driving force behind everything after that, supporting me and encouraging me to get the help I needed.  She got me out of the gutter.   She says she found her own peace by nurturing me and making me the man I am today.   She saved my life, of that I am 100 percent sure and I hope in some way the distraction I became, saved hers, through that dark time in her life.

The bond we share, most people can only dream of in a lifetime.  If there's ever such a thing as a soul mate, she's mine.  The day she first graced my blurry vision, will forever be ingrained in my memory.  I was manically pacing the foyer of a private mental health clinic in Half Moon Bay in California. I was high as a kite, running my hands through my hair trying to settle my heart rate.  Unbeknownst to me she had watched me the entire time from her sitting position in that waiting room.  My first awareness of anyone even being in the room was the chair she sat on scraping across the floor as she her made her way over to me.  She looked directly in to my eyes, placed her hands on each of my biceps and told me everything was going to be ok.  Literally, just like that, and the scary thing is, I believed every word she said.  She asked me to sit down with her and as my vision eventually cleared and settled on her properly, she looked ethereal, like an angel,  which only made me doubt my sanity further. I noticed all the little details, piercing grey eyes, natural mermaid hair in shades of blonde and brown, a tiny waist and muscular legs, big tits, perfect teeth.  She was the exact something I'd fantasise about on the regular.  The prettiest natural thing I'd ever seen in my 22 years and the calming effect she instilled in me was like a drug all in itself.