R. I. P TO MY YOUTH
AND YOU CAN CALL THIS THE FUNERAL
Kaleen is fire. And smoke. And all that burns your lungs at night. Kaleen is the ash that coats every breath you drag into your sorry excuse for a throat. The lighter that starts a habit, that becomes an addiction. That becomes a death in the newspaper your poor mother reads about the next morning. Kaleen is not a girl you bring home to your mother. She is especially not a girl you hope to marry. She is pain and anger and most especially Vengeance, but today, she is a college freshman.
Pray for us all.
"I would appreciate, Ms. Ali, if you'd pay attention when I speak to you."
A tilting of her neck brought his face into focus. The man stared at her, brows furrowed in an attempt to look stern- it didn't work- the expression sitting uncomfortably on his features. He was more accustomed to smiling, she thought, absently noting the lines decorating the skin beside his lips. It wasn't an unpleasant face, she thought, staring at the professor until a slight flush rose to his cheeks. A little bland, she thought, with a nose too angular to be considered pretty, but not too such a degree that he was unattractive. She did a lot of thinking, Kaleen.
"U-uh-." The flush brightened like fresh blood along his face, and Kaleen found a sadistic smile creeping onto her lips. It was oh so enjoyable when they squirmed. Flies beneath her magnifying glass. All that was needed, she thought, was some sun.
"Hello Mr. Peters! I brought in the specimens you requested, though I warn they might be a little crushed, my driving hasn't gotten any better since last year, and they were sitting in the back, so naturally when I hit the brakes they went flyin..."
The sun was blinding, suddenly. Kaleen found herself doing a lot more thinking, suddenly. Thinking about the girl before her, with lilac hair that framed her face in a halo of curls and words that flew from her mouth in a frenetic pace similar to that of a rabbit's heartbeat, thinking about the way her hands flew up to illustrate her words, as though they were not enough by themselves. Kaleen thought they were enough by themselves.
"Anyways, after the officer had said goodbye, I rushed over here, only to find..."
Kaleen couldn't stop thinking. Thinking about how she hadn't looked at Kaleen once, not pausing her rapid fire speech to spare the sad case a sideways glance. Thinking about how she smelled like sunshine and rain, and how she wasn't sure how that was possible. Thinking about how she reminded her of someone she thought had been lost long ago.
"Can you believe it?" She finished, and then looked over at Kaleen curiously
No, Vengeance thought. I cannot.
Vengeance is pain. And terror. And all that corrupts your sons and daughters. Vengeance is the dark alleyways of your youth, and the lies you told your mother that night. Vengeance is what steals your life away, moment by moment, until all that is left is an empty shell of what you were. Vengeance is brutal, but also lonely. And lonely things are drawn to each other, don't you know?
"What's your name?"
Vengeance is deeply, deeply in love.
"Kaleen."
Pray for us all.
