Mirror, Mirror

Sometimes, I stare at myself in the mirror.

Not to fix my makeup,

Not to pop a pimple,

And not to guess my eye color.

I stare at myself to attest if I am real.

To confirm that this is really reality.

To prove that I am apart of this world.

To verify that I am actually human.

A human living in a purely, naturally, twisted world.

How could it be possible

That a human, as pure and twisted as I am,

Can live amongst morals?

I feel unreal,

I feel misplaced,

But no one gets it.

The mirror is the only way I can see my true self.

Live in my true being for those short moments

Before being ripped back into reality.

Four Little Words

“You are a monster.” 
I stand, 5’3, dripping with blood, covered in it.

“You feel so good.”
I lay, on a king-sized bed, as you slip inside my sticky, warm pool of pleasure.

“You are my person.”
I sit, at a luxurious restaurant, as you look at me with admiration.

“I think love you.”
I zoom out, as I register the words that came out of your mouth.

I haven’t heard those words in so long, I forgot how I’m supposed to feel.

I forgot that a human like me isn’t capable of loving another being

“I think love you.”

The Green Light: Republished

  • I decided to edit a short story I previously published on this platform and here is the final results! I hope you guys enjoy it and I will be posting more regularly soon – Ari, The Paramour

Anxious. Anxious! — I’m terribly, terribly anxious. And you have the audacity to question my sanity, doctor? You think I’m deranged? Ha! What even are the requirements of being insane? Don’t I look like a stable woman? I’ve seen all the things the world has to offer and I’ve heard the voices from heaven and hell. And you — you, doctor! –You think I’m crazy? There are monsters out here killing, torturing and doing unspeakable things and you’re here questioning me and not them? Hmp! Fine, sit back and observe how calmly — collectively — I can tell you my bittersweet tale.

Now, Listen to me, I did love the man. I loved him so much that I bore him a little child, but he wasn’t completely innocent. You see, there was something about him that bothered me — angered me. What was it? Ah! It was his eye. When I first arrived at the ranch in New Jersey, surrounded by oak trees and right behind a bright, blue lake, he had opened the wooden door and looked at me– my heart soon froze over.  He had the eye of a beautiful, cold-blooded reptile, the kind that is able to kill you with one glare. But besides that, there was something else about his eyes that bothered me. What was it? It was the green light. Yes, yes, it was the green light! I saw, I felt malice and envy in his eyes and I knew it, I just knew — I had to lead him to his demise. Men like him can’t be roaming out in our streets, doctor. 

As months went by, I planned his joyful death while he planned our sorrowful wedding. You see, doctor, I never planned on marrying the man. I only agreed to the arrangement because I was with a child and I didn’t want her to be born out of wedlock. My parents raised me to be a good religious woman. Throughout our days, I would observe his ways from afar. From watching him drink his morning cup of green tea out of his favorite dark green tea cup to sitting on a log to see him chop down the oak trees with his rusty old axe while occasionally wiping sweat from his bushy, dark brown brows. I stalked and took in his every move like a fierce lion watching their upcoming prey. I wanted no mistakes to arise in my plan. When he noticed my deadly eyes on him, he would give me a heartfelt smile that made me sick to my stomach. This man was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen in all of my twenty-three years of life.

Let me tell you about my pregnancy. It was a strange one, to say the least. Five months in, faint green lines began to form on my belly and spread like the roots of a tree. They terrified me. I applied stretch mark cream religiously, but they never went away. And the vomit, oh, the vomit, was pure green! Even if I strictly stayed away from green foods, green liquid would somehow always come out of me. I couldn’t wait to get this being out of me.

Unfortunately, our baby, my little rotten piece of joy, came before our wedding. She was my blessing from hell. Once she was placed in my arms I looked at her puffy, tan face — I looked into her brown eyes. And you know what I saw, doctor? I saw the green light — that damned green light! It took everything within me not to throw the child across the room and curse its existence. How could it be possible for her to take on his flaw? My first thought was to end her life right then and there, but I decided to let her live — it wasn’t her fault she inherited that flaw — it was her father’s. We named her emerald.

Now, doctor, let’s talk about my wedding day. My mind was set and the decorations were perfected. My dress was pressed and the guests were seated. Little emerald had on the cutest dark green dress — you should’ve seen her! Once my makeup was finished and my veil was sewn into my hair,  I looked into the mirror and I saw it — I saw the green light in my very own eyes. He had given it to me! How could this even be possible? I took exact precautions to prevent this, but here it is: rotting in my very own being. At that moment, I decided that it was time. It was time for him to meet his maker. I fished around the drawers and cabinets of the church for a knife — I found a hunting knife and a switchblade. I slipped it into my bridal garter and quietly searched for the man.

After a bit of searching, I found him. He was fixing up his white and green suit in a tall mirror, but stopped when he noticed me. What did he say? Oh! He called me darling and began to approach me before he noticed me pulling out the hunting knife. His facial expression hardens and he looks at the knife, then to me. He murmured something, but I wasn’t listening. I just attacked. I made a lunge at him with the hunting knife tightly in my hand, aiming at his neck. He moved out of my path of rage and grabbed me — throwing me against the wooden wall before running away down the hall towards the kitchen. I steadied myself and chased after him. Surprisingly, doctor, I was able to catch up with him. I leaped onto his back, wrapping my legs around his torso. I drove the knife into one of his broad shoulders and viciously pulled it out. I did this again — and again — and again until he fell to the ground. Oh, you should’ve seen him, doctor, his suit was covered in blood and he was filled with agony — so much agony! I couldn’t help, but laugh as he tried to crawl away from me. I shoved the knife in his back muscle as deep as it could go.

Don’t get me wrong, he put up a good fight, but it didn’t last long. He lied, sprawled out on the wooden kitchen panels, his white collar stained red and the green light shining bright — he had accepted his fate. His breathing was slowing down, but his strong eyes followed my every movement. I dropped the hunting knife and pulled the switchblade out and slowly kneeled on the ground next to him, letting the polluted blood soak my pure white wedding dress. He was such a beautiful creature and I adored him. But he must die — in agony. I gripped the switchblade in my right hand, held his chin with my left hand and drove the blade into his right eye. He hollered as I jammed and twisted the knife through the soft, squishy flesh of his eye. I swiftly took the blade out when I hit a bone and put it in his right eye, going through the same motions as I did with the left eye. He didn’t cry this time. I left the blade in his eye and looked at him. He was dead — he was beautiful — it wasn’t my problem anymore. 

My wedding dress and my veil was covered in cool blood — his blood. I turned around and saw my emerald. Her stuffed face was blank and her eyes were on her father’s corpse. But, doctor, I noticed — the green light — the green light was gone. It was gone! His demise caused the death of the green light! I also noticed — as she continued to look at her father’s body — that she was smiling — from ear to ear — she was smiling. I walked toward her and picked her up. She put her small hands on my face and gave me a soft kiss on my nose. She was thanking me for getting rid of our problem. I smiled and I began walking downstairs to attend my wedding. I couldn’t be late to my own wedding.

Now, doctor, do you still think I’m insane?

A walk at night

It was a simple walk,

Past nightfall.

I was with my dog, Chloe, and was walking around in an unknown forest.

It was a simple walk.

We came across a woman, a young woman, in the middle of the walk and

It triggered something within me.

Something I forgot that even existed with in me.

Something I didn’t know was possible in a young, sane person.

We followed her path, stalking behind to keep from being noticed.

She stopped, we stopped.

I collected a colored rock as she bends over to tie her shoes.

In less than a minute, the rock made contact with her soften skull, causing a cracking noise to be released into the air.

My loyal Chloe kept watch for incoming people as the cracking noise continued

over,

and over, 

and over again.

Evidence that could convict me of the crime filled my pockets as I swiftly back away from her.

From her incident.

I continue my simple walk back to my home,

Planning an alibi with each step.

Housewife

I am your housewife.

We’ve been married for three months at this point.

You’re wearing a classless suit, feeling like a real man.

I, standing in a short dress, with an apron around my small waist, am baking blueberry muffins.

I’m gorgeous, or at least I have been told. 

As I center a muffin on the plate, you sit on the couch, reading the daily paper.

I stroll over and hand you the muffin as I sit alongside you. 

I gaze, mindlessly, at you.

You’re gorgeous, or at least by society standards.

“Honey,” I began as he shifts his attention to me.

“Would you still love me, be married to me, if I was a monster? Would you still love me if I destroyed us?”

I don’t know how those words came out of me, but he accepted them and leans over to give me a kiss on my pink lips. 

“I chose you to be my wife for a reason.”

I blush and took the muffin away from him before he could eat it. 

Later that night,

I throw away the muffins that were laced with mercury.

He cancels my appointment to be locked away in a mental institution. 

I’m so glad he’s giving me another chance – giving us another chance.

My Baby

You don’t really want to be my baby.

It’s more than having a pretty face by your side.

I will only steal your joy and drive you crazy.

You only want to touch my developed, arousing body and steal my prize.

I am a monster.

I am the thing you hide from in your bed at night.

This pretty face,

This sexy body,

Is just a distraction from what is really lurking underneath.

I will tear you apart, limb by limb,

Piece by piece,

Until you are nothing, but a shell of what was once a human being. 

And you,

You will just let it happen.

Because who would deny this pretty, innocent being?

With that being said, 

Do you still want to be my baby?

Please Try

I am an unloveable, disturbed human being.

I am delusional and detach from reality on the regular.

I am a perfectionist who will only accept the best.

I am a monster who dreams about horror and destruction

However, I want someone to try.

I want someone to call me theirs.

I want someone whose love is on par with God’s.

I want someone who will pick up the pieces and put me back together.

I want someone to love me for my insanity and instability.

Being human

This world is a strange one.

I don’t know how I fit within it.

I don’t know how I function within it.

I don’t even know what to do within it.

But I have to make it work.

I have to adjust and get through it.

It scares me at times.

I’m scared of failing,

Losing,

Getting lost,

And falling apart.

But I have to do it.

I don’t want to let go yet.

Happy Holidays

I’m not the best at giving gifts. I actually hate giving gifts and the holiday season that is surrounded by gift-giving. However, I wanted to try for you. I spent days searching the stores for a suitable gift for you, maybe even weeks. However, a gift came to mind when I saw you getting close with one of my co-workers, Ottessa. 

Ottessa was a new girl to the company I worked at. She was always running copies for the boss, taking calls for the boss and having private lunches with him. Everyone in the office suspected they were fucking each other, but no one had the bravery to ask and confirm it. Ottessa was a siren and I suspected, after having her way with the boss, she moved on to my boyfriend.

I noticed their abnormal relationship after she took it upon herself to visit me at my residence. She didn’t have an invitation and I’m still unsure how she got my address. But once she entered my home and made eye contact with my boyfriend, I knew things would go downhill from there. After that event, the two had been getting lunch together and she would even come over when I wasn’t at home. Also, My boyfriend had been less affectionate and would claim to be working ‘overtime’ at his job. 

I am definitely not stupid, but I love playing as if I am. So I let things slide and just put on a smile as I planned my gifts for the holiday season. 

The day of Christmas had arrived and I noticed my boyfriend had been feeling down lately. Ottessa has quit her job at my company and hasn’t been seen for days. Everyone at the office assumed she just ran off with some married man for the holidays and might appear again soon. 

On Christmas morning, I woke up early to make my boyfriend breakfast and served it to him in bed. He gave me a half-hearted smile and began eating.

“Would you like your gift now? I’m super excited to show you the gift I got you.” My boyfriend nodded and I ran to the living room to get his present from under the tree. The present was kind of heavy, around eleven pounds, and was very difficult to retrieve and wrap, but I had to do it for him. To show him how much I loved him. 

I placed it in his lap and he immediately began tearing at the wrapping paper. He stopped, in horror, when he realized what the present was. In a glass case, was Ottessa’s head, centered with her eyes scooped out of her eye sockets. Her eyes were placed in her opened mouth, on her dry tongue. On top of her bouncy, black curls was a note that said, Merry Christmas, Honey. He slowly looks up at me with his eyes filled with fear and his mouth open, unable to speak. 

I just wanted to give him a gift he would remember for years to come. And I think I succeeded. 

You don’t understand

You don’t understand.

You don’t understand the need to marry a powerful, demonic being.

The need to be completely vulnerable.

The need to be an evil partner.

The need to only be sweet to my partner and child.

The need to be babied and cared for.

The need to only enjoy the luxuries of life.

The need to destroy anything that comes in the way of your love.

The need to hide behind a pretty face.