Rhiannon

I woke up dead. Or maybe I was dead and woke up alive. Who cares anyway. In this land, where time seems just like a concept. Is it real? Seconds, minutes, hours, days. Can I tell the difference? When I am awake whole nights and sleep during days? When I stare to the dark ceiling, while I am trying to erase your voice from my head? How did this happen? When did it happen?

Endless nights, when second lasts longer than year. Just me and my thoughts, demons roaring like beasts inside my heads, persuading me to take a knife and cut your throat.

And then, when first sun rays enter my room, I close my eyes and it seems just like a second and I am awake again.

One second...

Just a second and all I see is you, my lover.

Your deep blue green eyes.

Scar over your eye.

Your perfectly shaped full lips.

Addicted. That is what it feels like. I am addicted to you.

I hate myself for being like that, but I can't help myself. Now, when I know, that you are so close to me, but you feel more distant than ever. The only way how to stop this is death, my lover.

If I can't have you, if you don't want to be with me, then maybe I should wake up dead tomorrow.

I wish to be killed by your hands, James. Does it sound weird? I have often wondered, how fantastic it would be if I died and your face would be the last thing I'd see. Your hand, fingers around my neck. Tight grip, stealing air from my lungs. Elements, James we are nothing more than water and air. And if one of the elements is stolen from us, we wake up dead.

Do you think my bones would crack? Do you think I'd be able to hear it?

You were right, this is something I can't deny. Old memories brought feelings, that I have tried to bury deep inside for too long. Not only feelings, but also memories. Memories bringing more forgotten moments.

I could just wonder, if you can remember the first time, when you were rough with me. Cold, you treated me like a slut. Shame, my lover, that you spoiled that night with tender kiss in the very end.

You came to my room with the coldest expression in your face and threw a bag with gold on my bed. You grabbed my forearm, ordered me to call you Sir and whenever I called you James, that leather end on your whip left a red burning mark on my pale skin.

I had such a pretty night dress and you tore it like a wild animal. Like a beast craving for blood, you craved for my submissiveness. And I let you to be dominant, to be rough, cold-hearted. I let you to call me with all the insulting names, I let you to hurt me, to slap me, pull my hair, to grab and grip my neck until I gasped for air.

I still feel cold coins on my bare skin, on my back. My body was so confused. Cold gold and heat from your body. So refreshing, so special, so unique. In the end I thought, that these coins will melt under me, because my skin was burning, it felt like my body was swallowed by flames.

No, it wasn't fire. It was you. Your voice whispering my name, your lips kissing my skin, your body pressed against mine, your hands holding my waist so tight I was black and blue the other day.

I understand that tender kiss now, as I look back. I understand it...

Kiss from the Devil.

Because I gave you everything - my virgin body, my innocence, my soul, my faith, my dreams, my life.

You in return, you gave me your love.

And you sealed the deal with that kiss in the end of that night.

I was your virgin, your lover, your slut. You were sure I am able to be...

...your everything...

I hate you.

And I love the way I hate you, my lover.

Because that hate makes me stronger.

Can you hear me, James Keziah?

It makes me stronger.

Sir...