Author Raul F. O.

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I Write Sins... Not Tragedies 24 - Still of the Night

She pushes me on my back and gets on top of me. Her tears hit my face, as I look at her face, I see her eyes hidden behind her hair, her smile big and tearful as she whispers something I don’t hear. She lays down on me, with her head next to mine, taking in a deep breath. I missed this smell of yours, she says while biting my neck. I can feel her hands on me, grabbing me, scratching me, enjoying every last bit of me, as she looks into my eyes with pure burning passion and her makeup ruined. I love you, she says whilst holding my hands down tightly. Speechless, I only look at her eyes as she awaits me to respond with the same feelings. Yet there’s something heavy on my chest that chokes me when I try to speak. Tears start flowing down my face, as I turn my eyes away from her. Why are you crying? I don’t know how to answer her. Since I don’t know what is happening to me. She lets go of my hands, and simply lays her head down on my chest. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.

I blink and wake myself up at the entrance of the house. Welcome home, she says with a smile as she comes to kiss me. I kiss her back and look around, outside still dark and foggy, inside warm and cozy. I look at her. She’s dressed in a apron, some warm socks, a pair of short shorts and a flimsy top, telling me to sit down because the food will be done in a minute. I look down at the table, what looks like a gorgeous hand-crafted wooden table, and see that it is not set. So, I get up, feeling guilty for having her cook again for me, to set the table, at least. No! She exclaims as she pushes me back onto the chair. You sit. You’ve worked hard today and I want to do this for you. So, please. Sit down. And if you’re going to be a good boy, I promise you for desert, something very special. I don’t know what else to do, but sit back down, and simply look at her. Who are you? I ask. She starts laughing. Good joke. Sorry, I forgot to laugh. Ha ha. A silence sets between us as she continues cooking.

Here’s your food. She grabs my head with her hands and kisses me. Please don’t play stupid games with me. You know that I don’t like it when you do things like this. It’s hurtful. I look at her, yet I still can’t recognize the face that is talking to me. My head starts to hurt badly, I turn around, put my elbows on the table, head in my hands, looking at the food. I try to smell it, but I can’t. So I pick it up and bring it to my nose, but still no smell to the food. Stop smelling the food. What the fuck is up with you today? I put the plate back down and start eating. The food has no taste either. I quickly gobble up the food, get up from the chair, go to look out the window. What are you doing? But I see nothing. I run to the door, try to open it, but can’t. I try to unlock it. Hey! What are you doing? I finally manage to unlock it, open it. And there is absolutely nothing in front of me. Are you okay? She whispers in my ear as she drags me back a step and closes the door. Come to bed with me…

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