Ugly is Beautiful By: Audrey B. Holley

Chapter 18

After that odd encounter Gaven decided to cool off with a walk, and once again, Johnys at work. I sit here at the kitchen table alone, and the earth seems to have died down to sleeping beauty in the dark evening. Glancing up, the time reads 7:00p.m. 

At the moment, I busy myself with school work, poetry for English to be precise.

Pulling out my old journal from my book bag, I flip through the pages of past poems. I find one I had wrote last summer and called it sleeping night. 

Twilight ending itself against colors that sweep away the light of day....

Gazing into the wondrous sea of stars...

Beauty of it all...

Only solution of sighing in awe...

Darkness murmurs into the sky like unclear whispers...

Night drenches the surroundings...

Blackness blankets the dozing earth like a drowsy cover...

Sleeping souls drift into an unknown world of dreams...

I sigh, and then lean back in my chair. I scuffle up an idea of what my poem shall be, and then it hits me. Before the words forming in my mind can escape, I grope for my homework paper, and write it all down in a brisk like manner. I title it love.

Entwining our fingers...

In jumbled knots...

Love is the electricity that zaps my body...

In lightning strikes...

We meet in quick movements....

Love comes out in the form of a comforting hug...

Resulting in our bodies to collide...

LOVE...

That is what this is...

Feelings show...

words roll out of our mouths...

My insides flutter...

Love blooms into a beautiful butterfly...

Caressing my skin...

In gentle strokes...

At first sight...

I know he is mine forever...

LOVE...

That is what this is...

A moan of Gavens profound voice makes me whip around to look at the front door where he stands all slouched like and exhausted. He breathes heavily, for his severely ripped shirt exposes his chest that heaves dramatically as if gasping for air. Dried blood smothers the left side of his mouth.

"It happened." He says with a weep. "Except this time..." He gulps down the fear he has of himself. "I killed three people."

"What? Who?" I question with a stand. I only take a step to him. A queasy feeling settles at the pit of my stomach.

"I don't know." He responds with hopelessness. A panic attack gradually unfolds from him.

"Oh God!" He sobs. "I have a monster in me, and it won't go away! Beast! What do you want from me?" His once handsome face seems to drown in tears that scar his features with misery. When he builds up a scream and releases it, something flashes within his eyes.