Birth From The Waist

Chapter 37

The moon’s light refracted through the windshield of my car, an incandescent for the dark environment also known as the inside of my car; the beauty of the moon was deep and intense, there were no specific words that I could utilise in order to contrast its features with that of any natural element of this earth. Killing the car engine, I exit my vehicle, gazing up into my the dark sky, few cloud lines around the moon, but its oblique shape, resplendent achromatic scintilla had memorised so immersed that I was paralysed in place, scrutinizing it in the middle of my driveway path like a mad man.

What had seemed like moments, I eventually became of my surroundings, it hit me! There was something as beautiful as the moon, even more gorgeous than its natural white rays that constantly made contact with the earth’s surface, a form of protection, light in the dark, both physically and mentally. Alyssa! Alyssa was the purest girl of them all, she was mine, absolutely mine. Today when she looked me in the eyes and smiled, sent electrical pulses through my axons, my heart beat faster, just one smile had almost caused me to stroke.

Alyssa was for me, as I for her. She needed the space she could get, I had to stop descending on her like an abductor and mould myself into the form she really needs, a lover, a friend, a saviour and most importantly the role I was currently executing, her protector.

She’s my love, and I needed to protect her, protect her from him... If he finds out she exists, he will come for her, he will take her and he will do the unbearable.

Speaking of him, I needed to contact him, fool him; he couldn’t come here, not yet. Reaching for my pocket, my heart sinks, where the hell was my phone?

I quickly search all the pockets I was wearing, pants and jacket. Scampering to the driver’s side of the car, I quickly latch the door and effortlessly look under the seat and anywhere else on the carpet, nothing! Damn! I needed this phone, I lean my arm across the door, my hand rubbing my temples in hopes that my aggravation would seize and serenity would overtake me.

It clicks. Alyssa.

I bolt inside like a psychotic man, taking the stairs two at a time, “Alyssa,” no longer am able to keep back my anger, all thoughts of peace shifting into murderous thoughts and doings.

***                                                        

“Alyssa,” he roars.

That was all I needed to set me off, my body began to tremble, a side effect of my fear. What was I going to do? What was I going to say? These were the questions that replayed over and over in my head, a train of thought that suddenly dispersed into a further million questions if I had just simply said the wrong answer, or in Noah’s case; the answer he didn't want to hear.

The bolts of the door clamp as they are drawn into their resting socket, the wooden door is plunged back hardly into the war. There the large bulk of Noah stood in the door, his eyes glowing with hate; the look on his face was devastated. Fear grasped my efferent mechanisms, no longer was I able to move a muscle, twitch or speak, just the notorious swallowing of the painful bile that rose to the my throat. I gulp hard.

If looks could kill, I would be dead now, dressed delightfully in my short cocktail dress being lowered into cemetery ground.

Noah gawks at me angrily, the two of us lost in each other’s eyes, it was not of love and lust, but of hate and grieve, well speaking on my behalf.

He stood there for God knows how long. I hated this, it just delayed the inevitable; almost like a predator playing kibitzing with its prey just before it goes in for the kill and draws blood.