Femme Fatale.

18

*_*
It's ten in the morning when the doorbell rings.
She opens the door to see Nahar.
She feels the familiar sensation begin in her breast, spreading throughout her entire body, an emptying, a draining away of warmth and goodwill, of humour and compassion, of all the human feelings that are crucial for life itself, leaving her without substance before she begins to feel again with an emotion which is as cold and dead as marble.
She does not repeat to herself how much she loathes him. Not anymore, for her mind is far beyond a point where hatred or revenge means a great deal. There is no way to describe the manifestation of feeling which lies sick and rotting inside of her since it defies evocation. She simply becomes another person. The sweet,good-natured and kind Carla ceases to exist and a fierce demon takes her place.
*_*

Songs for the chapter:
Grand piano - Nicki Minaj
Bed of lies - Nicki Minaj ft Skylar Grey

CARLA:
He is a ghost, of course, conjured up by my own maddened pain, by my misery,by my savagery since deep inside me anger rages at the constant dreams - not dreams but nightmares - I keep having about the return of Nahar. He stands there, hatless, the lashing rain, which must have started while I was asleep,falling through his thick hair and across his cheeks. He blinks rapidly to clear the raindrops which tangles his dark eyelashes and I watch, quite fascinated, the clenching of his strong jaw.

"Carla,my pet." He speaks my name and I see his lips move. Inside me a bird's wing begins to flutter. An injured bird which can do no more than lie low, waiting until the danger is passed. It brushes against my heart which begins to move in queer, erratic jerks. I put a hand to my breast to protect it, to try to stop its mad beat.

"Carla..."

I cannot answer,of course I can't, for how can I bring myself to even utter a word to him? I feel my arm taken into his and I am turned about. Like a sleepwalker or someone who is trapped in a pit of deep shock, I allow myself to be led inside the house. He leaves me seated as he goes to the kitchen and comes back to the living room with two glasses of brandy.

He sits down slowly in front of me, his knees almost touching mine. His hand reaches out and puts the glass of brandy between my own, guiding it to my lips. I drink obediently, the fiery warmth of the spirits flowing down inside me and igniting some dormant thing which lies uneasily there ever since Nahar had approached me. I could feel it come to life, slowly, warming me, feeding the flames of my wild rage and by God it feels good.

It is growing gradually, second by second, spreading explosively down my numbed legs to my feet which move in an involuntary jerk as though they long to be something which has not yet reached my brain. My arms and hands twitch and my breast rise in a great convulsive breath. My bowed head rises slowly and my smoky eyes, hot and savage in my face, look directly at Nahar who is not a ghost at all but the sane quirky, infuriatingly grinning guy I have blindly loved and hated him with every muscle, every bone, every fibre and drop of blood in my body.

"You bastard," I hiss. "You unfeeling, callous,evil bastard. You sit here grinning like some bloody monkey just as though you have been away for no more than a fortnight, expecting me to welcome you back with... Dear God, I can't believe it. Have you any idea of what has been happening to me while you've been junketing about with your stupid whore,you married the damn traitor! Jesus, I thought Tanu is the lowest crawling thing that ever came out from under a stone but no. You make her look like a saint! All these months...over a year now...not knowing whether you were forced...grieving like a damn widow... No, I don't want to know why you did that to me..."