Life, Love & The Forbidden

Two Entities

Michael awoke with a surprise. His alarm had been screeching into the room for almost five minutes and finally the banging on his door woke him from his slumber. "Hey Mike, turn that damn thing off!" one of his dorm mates called, pounding the door furiously. Michael leant over his crumples sheets and pressed the switch on his alarm clock, flopping back onto his sheet with a sigh.

He thought of Sara. He always thought of Sara. She was the last thing he thought about at night and the first thing he thought of in the mornings. Like a phantom, she invaded his every dream, torturing his mind and body with her delicate touch and suggestive words. Her smile was the cherry on the cake, the pièce de résistance in his life. The way her lips curled around her perfect teeth, moist from her seductive licking and pouting, sent him to the edge.

Michael laid a heavy arm across his eyes, blocking out the thin rays of sunlight that fought their way into his basement abode. He scratched at his face with his other hand, exciting the follicles of his stubbly face to stand to attention. Michael rubbed a flat palm against his growth, noting that he should shave soon.

Rolling his head to one side but not removing his arm too much, he slid a glance at the clock. Red digital numbers flashed before him from his alarm clock face. It was eight thirty and Michael was late for class. His eyes widened and he sprung from his mattress, sprinting to his bathroom in his dark blue boxers, his bare feet slapping on the tiled floor.

He hurriedly grabbed his toothbrush, pushed it roughly under the running tap and applied a generous dollop of toothpaste to the bristles. He shoved the brush into his mouth, quickly whisking the item around his teeth like some kind of miniature buffer. All the while he kept a watchful eye on his watch, cursing himself for oversleeping. The large leather wristband of his Fossil watch was worn and rugged looking, authenticity brought straight from the store, and the large square chrome rimmed face counted down the seconds in gothic style numbers.

Spitting his last mouthful of rinsed minty water into the basin, he grabbed a hand towel on his exit, wiping his mouth and throwing it to the bed. Michael rushed to his wardrobe, pulled out some semi casual black pants and threw them on, zipping up the fly and fastening his leather belt as he picked a shirt. His eyes scanned the hanging garments for a split second before he yank a freshly ironed pale pink long sleeve shirt from its hanger.

Michael's stomach rumbled in protest as he whizzed past his kitchenette and out of his door, slamming it with a thud. He thundered up the stairs, his heavy treaded shoes pounding the wooden floor loudly as he pulled his bulk up with the help of the handrail. He jumped three steps at a time, gripping a grey and black rucksack thrown loosely over one shoulder. He panted as he sprinted out of the front door and crushed his body against his car with a forced halt.

He pulled the handle out and threw his bag over the headrest into the back of his car. He pulled his keys from his pocket, slammed the door behind him as he sunk into the interior and started the engine. One last glance at his watch told him he was now twenty minutes late. It was eight forty five and Michael slammed his fist into the steering wheel as he was forced to break at school time traffic.

Square yellow and black buses littered the road, all heading for the same direction. Michael growled in frustration as the bus in front of him indicated to stop by the local high school. He lecture had been moved to another campus because of personal reasons with the professor so Michael had no choice but to drive. He hated this time of day for driving because the majority of drivers were soccer moms with tanks or the dreaded school buses.

"Come on!" He edged forward behind the bus, on coming traffic stopping his overtaking manoeuvre. His foot hovered above the accelerator but shied away each time a car rushed past him and the bus. Gripping the wheel with white knuckles, Michael glanced at his watch again. Eight fifty. He might as well of not bothered getting out of bed.

As Michael scanned the crowds of children for any sign of the bus finally being empty he laid his eyes up the familiar auburn locks of Sara. She stepped from the bus, smiles and giggles with her friends, a fully laden satchel thrown over one shoulder. "Sara?" he quizzed to himself in the silent car. His heart wrenched when he realised she had lied to him. She wasn't eighteen or in college. She hadn't been at the library that day for revision; she was studying for current work.

Michael's mouth hung open and he stared, disbelieving his eyes. He blinked a few times, double taking her image as she breezed up the large stone steps and into the building. A high pitched bell rang out, signifying the start of lessons, echoing out onto the street. Michael felt crushed and cheated. Their entire relationship had so far been built on a lie that could have potentially been disastrous.

Anticipation crept through his body as all of his hairs stood on end, prickling as if someone had walked over his grave. Michael swallowed, returning his eyes dead ahead of him into the void where the bus had been. Horns beeped and engines revved behind him, shaking him from his delusion. Michael's car lurched forward as he stepped on the gas, the whole vision he has just seen replaying through his mind in slow motion.

What was he going to do now? Sara was a minor and he wasn't. She was the governor's daughter and he was just a struggling student driving a two door car with a huge dent in the rear metal bumper. Once he passed the busiest traffic he had to pull over. Indicating to stop his body wobbled as his front tyre mounted the high curb with a bang.

Michael pulled the key from the ignition and planted it on the passenger seat with a shaky hand. He caught a glimpse of himself in the rear view mirror and frowned. His complexion was ill, void of all colour and his face lacked emotion. His palms were sweaty and his eyes were dilated, huge like saucers upon his face. Michael slumped back in his seat, running a shaky hand over his growing hair. Exhaling hard he tried to focus on his reflection.

"What are you doing?" he asked it with a puzzled expression, still unable to believe what he had just seen with his own lying eyes. "Sara can't be that young, can she?" he swung his head to look out of his side window. His insides fought the battle of good vs. evil within his body as he contemplated his options. His inner Devil told him to go, take her and make her his. It was what they both wanted after all. His inner Angel fought back hard, his guilty conscious and caring nature erasing his lusty thoughts and replacing her beautiful image with that of a child like her.

Michael shook his head as if the remove the two entities from his mind. He threw two clenched fists up to punch his forehead, screaming in a low primitive rumble that vibrated and rocked the entire car. One last time he glanced at his watch. One large reflective hand pointed to the notch representing two while the other slowly crept past the nine. Michael sighed, resting his head against the headrest on his chair. There was no point to him going now.

"Dammit," he whispered pressing his eyes closed tightly. It was not for his missed lesson but for his indecision in a life changing matter, a matter that would end his friendship with Sara forever.