How can you save me from drowing when you aren't in the water?
How can you dry my tears when you don't see me cry?
How can you stop my screams when you don't hear my voice?
How can you help me when you don't understand me?
How can you?
When you just don't?

Blood Innocence

See how pure and untainted
This beauty of devastation
Bold and secure in its descent
As sure and silent as it plummets

See how it falls unafraid
Purest in its fluid motion
It welcomes its end unflinching
Ignorant of the clutches that is eternity

See how it splatters on the ground
All innocence of flight lost
Death and dirt cling to it
Attracted to the scent of fresh kill

Fear compounds threefold
Like hysteria on the verge of insanity
Chains shackle and bind
It senses the greater demon approaching

He comes shadowed by night
A slashing motion of noiseless calm
Guttered screams entrenched in blood
Snowy white blinded by brilliant red

His Gloved hand reaches out
Freely liquid amber flows
Finally, innocence in its purest
A sacrifice for the drop of first blood

See how pure and untainted
This beauty of devastation
Bold and secure in its descent
As sure and silent as it plummets

Mirror Image - incomplete

What do you see when you look in the mirror?

People often say that it can be your worst enemy on a bad day, because at any one moment, it can capture your innermost feelings and throw them right back at you. Without your consent.

Strange how you can hide from the whole world, but the one thing you can never seem to hide from is a mirror. Even if you don’t own one, they’re everywhere. In shops, malls, bathrooms. Every martini and vodka shot you down, every chocolate indulgence, every sinful act you commit against your body - the mirror shows it all. And perhaps this is why I’ve taken pains to drill mirrors into every square inch of my room. To remind me of my sins.

I start at the feet.

They always ask me why, but I can only stare back at them in silence. Because really, I haven’t a clue. But I start there. And they’re the daintiest feet you’ve ever seen. The delicate toes with nails that are perfectly trimmed into white orbs. The gentle arch of the foot that leads to the soft slender ankle. And then comes the legs.

They’re not too bad too. They curve seductively all the way to my hips, which I’m told are slightly bony. But that’s okay, I have a slender waist. I admit I haven’t been exercising as much as I should have, but it’s not too badly out of shape. There’s just the teensiest smidge of a belly, which can be corrected with a triple workout of crunches and floor routines.

Then it’s my face. Not a particularly beautiful feature, but striking nonetheless, with an interestingly defined bone structure. The cheekbones are high and protruding, giving me the air of an aristocrat. My nose is straight and pert and my eyes are like huge drops of brown chocolate. My lips are a bit freakish though. It’s too big for my face. They look like they’re pouting even when I’m not.

Which is annoying, because it’s one of the reasons why people think they’ve seen me before. They’re imagining all those nastily shot, poorly budgeted porn flicks. The ones where ridiculously plump collagen injected lips are making smacking sounds to get you all … ‘excited’.

But that’s where I end. At my lips.

Which obviously leads them to ask me, “ What about the rest of your body? Do you feel uncomfortable about your chest hair, your upper lip hair, your…”

I’m sorry if you think I’ve lied to you, or somehow misled you, because honestly, that was never the intention, it just seems like I should somehow tell the story to you as how I see it, as how it was told to me. But that’s why I started to talk about mirrors… they say that mirrors never lie. Well… they turned out to be the biggest liars of all.

I was born a charming, baby. Baby boy, that is. A healthy ten pounder with just a hint of honey blond hair. And pretty, big brown eyes which Mother said would make all the girls swoon. That, I was to find out later, was just half of it.

So, I started to grow up. At first, no one really suspected anything, because all that happened was my lips growing larger. Somehow, all the girls seemed to think it enhanced my good looks, because they all started blushing when I happened to look their way. Yes, they blushed. At nine years old, you’d think that children wouldn’t know a thing about flirting and blushing and lip biting etcetera, but I did. They were blushing. So I suppose Mother was partly right - I’ll give her credit for that - girls were swooning all over me.

And I even won the most photogenic award from my school. I remember grinning up at a red faced Ms. Patty. I think she had the smallest of crushes on me too. Anyway, at that point everything was just fine and dandy.

It wasn’t until I turned thirteen that everything started to change.
Of course, what affected me was puberty, and I assure you I knew even then that puberty would change me. The only thing was, I never expected to change into a girl. My Father had lectured me at length on the development my body and how things like my voice would change, and how hair would start turning up in all those different places… so in fact, I was waiting for it to happen.

Instead, I started to get a weird tingling in my chest. At a particular time every month, my chest would even feel slightly swollen. My nipples were suddenly extra sensitive and an accidental brush would send them into overdrive. I certainly wasn’t expecting THIS. What I WAS expecting to happen in lower regions however, didn’t happened. I wasn’t excited by ANYTHING in the least bit. Well, certainly not by girls.

So I thought that perhaps I was gay. And for good reason too.

I suddenly started noticing my male friends a little bit more than what was usual. I stared at them intently as they walked around half naked in the showers, and I noticed myself starting to get embarrassingly aroused. So much so, that at times I had to wait for everyone to leave before I dared to venture out, in case they spotted the awkward blush on my face.

Chapter 2 - Sisterly Love

DAMN you, you foolish idiot! Why couldn't you just stay away from her? Was it not possible? The opportunities were there and yet, you chose to ... to commit that barbaric act! On your sister no less!

Has it not occured to you that I love and honour her greatly, Jack? Was it not obvious tha-

OBVIOUS? Well, if 'obvious' is what you wish to discuss, let's.

Was it not obvious that by kissing her it was in no way, 'honourable' ? Was it not OBVIOUS that she wanted to run from you but couldn't because of your vice grip on her arms? Was it not OBVIOUS THAT THE WOMAN YOU KISSED WAS YOUR SISTER? YOUR VERY OWN FLESH AND BLOOD!

Yes, Jack. Catherine is very much my sister. But she is very much a woman too. Surely you... you've noticed? And... I love her Jack. Every time my eyes settle upon her face, Lord help me, but I want nothing more than to -

OH GOOD HEAVENS! Wake up, Derrick! She is your SISTER! There is not a chance in the world that she would ever return your affections. Are you being obtuse or did you really somehow miss the disgust in her stranggled cry as she fled from you?

No, I didn't... but Jack, you, you of all people should understand! She did cry, she was frightened. But I heard her, felt her... her heart beating fast against her breast as I held her close, her soft, warm hand reaching up to pull me closer rather than to push me away. She wanted it too, Jack. For that I am cert-

CERTAIN? I say, you must have had too much liquer during dinner. In heaven's name, Derrick, think about this logically. She is nothing but a poor little naive soul! She would never commit such an atrocity, and under her mother's watchful eyes no less. Have you not seen the way her mother punishes her? Lord, even I am afraid of the old woman...

No! Oh Lord, Catherine! I must go and hel-

Help? You taking a jaunt up to her at this late hour of the night will do nothing but give her more grief! Can you for once just think about what you are doing before you act? Good Lord. This is exactly how it all started in the first place.

Catherine... Oh Catherine... what am I to do now? I must speak with he-

You will do nothing of the sort. Now listen. This is what you will do. Tomorrow at early dawn you will ride to Town and stay there, - take Archer, he's the swiftest of the lot- while I deal with Catherine.

You will not harm her will you? I love her... She will come to no harm. Listen, Jack! She will come to no harm and that is final, you hear?

Yes, I heard you. Now go to sleep Derrick. You have a long day ahead of you,
as do I...

But tell me Jack, honestly, was I imagining it all? Was it a dream? Did that kiss with Catherine really happen? Or was it just another figment of my imagination?

No Derrick. It happened.

Are you sure?

Well I should know, shouldn't I? After all, I was there.

Locked Up

In the deepest depths of my insanity, I glimpse the shimmering brilliance of warmth. A tangible yet unattainable beauty that flutters by me as I stretch out to reach it - it flutters past. Its disappearance symbolises the end of an era, the dash of hopes and dreams, the destruction of all my ambitions. For the loss of this is so great, that all it leaves is an empty core of sickening dread.

I laugh hysterically, till I feel the retinas of my eyeballs shrivel up in pain. The white-padded room stares back at me boldly and seemingly taunts me yet again.

Chapter 1 - Sisterly love

Dear Pauline,

Yes, I admit, I am naive, I am foolish and I am too simple to understand how this world works. But surely, even with what little worldy knowledge I possess, THIS could not happen? Surely this ISN'T supposed to happen? Surely brothers are not supposed to kiss their sisters in such a fashion?

And oh how distressing it is to the poor heart. From what little I have read - from the books I've stolen from Father's library - brothers do not kiss their sisters in this fashion. Perhaps on the cheek, and sometimes on the forehead. But never has a kiss on the lips from a brother been called natural. It is something they call a 'perversion'.

And yet. And yet my dearest diary, even with the disgust I feel towards my brother, I am ashamed to admit that the kiss left me breathless and tingling with anticipation. For never has such a man held me with such love and care as he did. Of course on the odd occassion, Father has embraced me, but even that was stiff and guarded. This... this was different, it was... warm and full of love.

Oh Pauline, I am in bits! I must truly be dull and unintelligent, for surely a woman of the world would know how to react to something of such a nature! Surely, there must be something that I must do! But, I am confused. I feel like all the lights in the world have been snuffed out and that I am drowning in darkness! Oh Pauline! what must I do now?

I hear a knock. Oh dear Lord. Please do not let it be Mother. I cannot bear to look at her tonight, for I swear, she will see something in my eyes that will tell of this 'perversion'. Her eyes are sharper than an eagle's and even when I am lying at my best, she can tell from a mile away. Oh Lord the knocks are getting louder. I cannot pretend to ignore it now. Pray with me Pauline. Pray with me.

Addiction- Edited on 30th july

I'm floating away. Coasting on a highway of nothingness. It is almost as if someone has sucked away all my thoughts and feelings, bit by bit, leaving nothing but an empty shell. I'm rather like a robot now, incapable of emotion, ambition, anything that made me... human.

“Jesus Teri! You've got to stop this – this madness!”
“Relax Joan. Why're you so stressed out? Here. Take one of these, it helps calm the nerves.”
“That's what I'm worried about, Teri! You've been taking these – these things every hour! Teri, you're addicted to your medication!”

The pills were starting to kick in again and I could feel a wave of nothingness overcome me. My eyes turned cold and I knew that the Teri of old had yet again receded into the safety of the darkness, letting the drug take over.

“If only it was just that Joan.” If only you knew the truth...

I woke up in a pool of blood.

The blood is everywhere, and I'm panicking, because I've never seen so much blood before. There was blood on the sheets, blood on my nightgown and blood encrusted on my inner thighs. For a brief second I thought I was dead.

The most excruciating pain pulled me back into reality. Apparently, I was still very much alive.

I rolled off my bed, crawled to the phone with what little energy I had and dialed for an ambulance. I had just managed to rattle off my address weakly into the receiver before collapsing into a ball on the floor. Shaking as the pain intensified. I remembered thinking 'Oh God, don't let me die” as I numbly closed my eyes.

I was lying on a cold hard surface when I came to.

“I'm dying! Help! I'm dying!” My stomach felt like someone had just taken a hammer to it. My insides felt like a million sharp knives had been shoved into them repeatedly and my head was swimming around in a fog. In all of my pain and hysteria, a lady in white came up close to me and whispered with a menacingly sweet smile, “No darling, you're not dying. If anything is, it's your baby.”

My baby?

The doctors were now telling me in garbled English that I had been pregnant, probably for a few months.

I had been carrying a baby without even knowing - until I lost it.

Then I started to cry. Perhaps I was crying out of shock. Then again, perhaps I was crying out of shame. But I think, deep down, I was crying out of loss. The loss of something so great. Something I had never even known I'd had, but knew with all my heart I had wanted. God was just so unfair. He had given me something so precious, so beautiful, without telling me, and then took it away just as I realised its presence. How could it be?

My baby...

An image of a small bundle with beautiful eyes and a cute button nose filled my mind. Then, as though in some sick horror film, its eyes bulged and blood trickled out of its sockets, down its cheeks. It started to wail, a deafening screech. The blood was just pouring out of everywhere and it started choking on its own blood. And then, as suddenly as it had started wailing, it stopped. It's lifeless head hung heavily to one side, as its blood-drenched eyes stared mercilessly into mine.

I awoke, spewing the contents of my stomach all over the floor. I was hysterical once again. I must have been uncontrollable, because that's when they started giving me Xanax.

It made me numb, it made me forget, and it took away any and all my reasons for crying, for thinking, for even feeling. There was nothing there. Nothing there at all.
No pain, no tears, no baby...

“Teri, I really think you should go see someone.”
“I really don't have an addiction Joan.”
“You're in denial! Face it Teri! You're practically living on those drugs! It's an addiction.”
“The drugs help me live with myself okay?”
“What? Teri, what do you mean?”

I fled and locked myself in the bathroom. Tears filled my eyes as the image of my baby's blood caked face filled my mind yet again. His eyes stared lifelessly into mine. It had been months since I'd last seen it.

Grabbing the bottle, I popped the cap and swallowed two pills.
“Mommy!”
Two more. Just to make it stop.
“Mommy, don't you love me?”
Two more.
“Why did you leave me Mommy?”
My tears clouded my vision as I poured all the pills into my shaking hand and swallowed.

Silence.

“Teri! Oh My God! Teri! Open the door right now! Teri!”


“Mommy, don't you love me?”
“Yes baby I do. Mommy loves you very much! And I'm never leaving you again.”