PART ONE:
"Left in Mexico at age of 12 to only get traffic out to a family who need a nanny, maid and husband needed a ...... well I made it out to only land in Texas at 17 into arms of a woman who thinks am her missing daughter to only have her rip...
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My head rested against Henry chest for four thousand time this month. He predicted his death to come within a week but it never came. How ironic is the life I lead. I have never seen anyone so close to death and try to change. Ruthless Henry was soft and loving these days. One what seem to be one of the last days he showed an ounce of empathy, my body quickly drop the wall to have the need of feeling wanted and safe. His hand move all over my body showing its appreciation, his eyes looking at my undoing was the drug he desire. We rode an roll coaster of undoing of emotions one of regret seem to be what linger most in the air of heated sex.
For a quick moment I forgot about my own pain and heartbreaks. It was purely two demon souls entangling in dance of understanding of paths we lead. All that was express were 'I love you's' over and over again. It wasn't that we love each other as husband and wife it was we love how for a quick moment we actual felt as we ARE husband and wife. Was it because death remind of us of cows were break, 'until death do us apart?' I laid on his chest after explosion of orgasm gave by dying carcass. I listen to only thing seem to make him human, his heart. Deep loud thumps, a rhythm I seem to have memorize the past month. It always sound like a jackhammer then stop as started back up.
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His fingers softly move on back as we both come down this emotional coaster, I often wonder if I knew this Henry would I have fallen in love him? Or wasn't the idea of giving me ultimate gift that I now pity him? Who to know that if both our mask would have come off we would been in love and do all those dreams we wanted. "Muñeca, I know you don't love me but I know that's my fault not once do I blame you. I love you, Amore" More words with mix of lies and truths. He knew I didn't love him but yet he kept me hostage but he doesn't blame? I sort of want to laugh but I keep inside. The words 'I love you' seem to be only truth. But his love was the doll of me, the girl behind the glass box. "It's both our faults, we hid behind a wall." More like you had me hiding behind wall. Tears drop from my eyes but not out of pain but out of execration. I look up to come face to face with man old enough to my grandfather, his eyes that once show youth have aged rapid over the past couple weeks. His eyes were sunken deeply under his eyes as he dances with the devil.
