Satan reincarnate: You're my Poetry

Hey, You.

***

I practically launched myself across my lonely penthouse, into my cold bed. The bed I had waited so long to wake up next to him in, yet never had. My face curdled, tears spilling over the edge. I couldn't tell if I was enraged, relived, afraid.. why not all of them? Yet again, I didn't know if it was actually him.

"Where are you?" I softly cried out, my hand slipping under my shirt- right between my breasts.

I softly hiccuped, probing my fingers over the stiff scar tissue built up right where I had a piece of glass jammed through my ribs. Still to this day, I didn't remember exactly what happened. However, I do remembering hearing his cries for me echo through my barely conscious brain.

'Oh, baby please.' I remember the way he sobbed, only a man who loved me would ever do that. The letter he wrote me, telling me how much I meant to him. Calling me his poetry. All I wanted was to hear him call me baby again, hear him whisper my name as I hugged him until I physically couldn't anymore. I wanted to feel his warmth pressed up against me, just like it did when I was only a teenager.

"Please." I whispered, my eyes twinkling wit crystal tears as they reflected the neon yellow light through my home. I was his chariot, and with every thought he drove me through the pale moonlight.

For the longest time I thought he wasn't coming back. I tried so hard to convince myself he was dead, and I died along with him. But- that was just the reality within my novels- not real life. My heart gently fluttered, he said he had read my works before. Yeah, he's a pathological liar. But- yet I had always believed him.

+++

Morning.

It was morning now, and the first thing I thought of-as per usual- was his face. I had refrained from saying his name for so long, I felt like forgetting everything but his beauty would be best. But, I couldn't forget anything. There wasn't a possible way to forget him. I sat up, looking out my windows to the clear, morning dawn. The sky reminded me of him, however only the moments that weren't buried with abuse. I wouldn't ever forget the things he did to me, the things he made me do. They still haunted me, to this day. The feeling of the dagger in my hand, and he made me plunge it into Katty's neck. My own friend, an innocent woman. He was a psychopath, but he loved me. And I truly did believe I loved him.

I rolled out of my bed, taking my phone in my hand. I trudged to my kitchen, sitting at the bar. It was late morning, almost 11 am. I sighed, I didn't sleep well. I put my head in one of my hands, switching on my phone with the other as it dinged.

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My stomached tightened as I looked at the message, my thumb dancing over it as I chewed on my lip. I clicked on it, looking at the picture sent. My stomach was a knot, my heart dropping as I realized what it was. It was a cute little coffee shop, but not only that. It was the cafe I saw him again, the day after first meeting him. The time he hit me, cut me, left me to rot on the cold cement. I shivered, fear running through my warm veins. Sometimes I'd forget; he was a sicko.

I flipped my phone over, I guess that's where he wanted to be 'interviewed.' In fact, I may have been overreacting. Maybe it wasn't even him, and genuinely somebody who wants to be my agent. Maybe I was crazy, and needed to just get through life.

I groaned.

"You're a grown woman now, Angelina. Stop acting like you're still 18." I whispered, pushing off the bar-stool, back into my bedroom. "You're 23."

+++

I looked in the mirror, preparing myself for whatever was to come. I didn't know what to expect, but I always had to be ready. Ready for him, just in case. I looked at myself, and smiled. I survived, but only because he spared me. I could be walking into my doom, but I wasn't smart. I was a fool when it came to him. I let my hair down, shaking the long growth over my shoulders. I grabbed my purse, checking the time as I headed out the door. I was a little late, but it was okay. Everything would be alright.

I took a cab up the few blocks, feeling pain in my heart as I passed my old apartment building. Right there, in that little spot was where it mostly happened. Something so large and vulgar, yet nobody knew.

As we pulled into the parking lot, I clutched my purse. My heart hadn't ever beaten so fast, and my mind hadn't ever spiraled so intensely.

"Excuse me?" I choked to the cabby.

"Yes ma'am?" He glanced at me through the rear-view mirror.

I handed him a twenty, and cleared my throat. "Could you walk me inside?"

He looked at me, a bit concerned. "Oh, of course." He exited first, proceeding to open the door for me.

I clutched his arm securely, slowly walking up the steps I hadn't walked up since the morning after I'd seen him for the first time. He opened the entrance for me, and I just stood there for a minute. Nobody signaled me over, looked at me for too long, and I didn't see any gruesomely tall man with thick black hair, with chain-mail boots scraping the floor. I relaxed a little bit,he wasn't here. A part of me was disappointed, I felt a bit let down. But- I wasn't as afraid. I smiled at he cabby a he walked out, mouthing the words 'thank you'. They had re-modeled since I had last been here, it was a nice change of scenery. I sat at the bar, waving over a waitress. I looked at her name tag, smiling.

"What can I get you?" She asked, a smile on her tan face.

Katherine was the name on her sticker, unlocking a hidden memory of mine. If I wasn't mistaken, she was the waitress that served me last time.

"Can I have a black Irish cream?" I ordered, looking up at her from the menu.

"Oh my God!" She laughed, widening her eyes. "I loved your book, Swan Song was it? You're Angelina Levine?" She squealed.

I laughed, looking into her sweet eyes. "Thank you, I appreciate that." That was my favorite thing about being popular; having people tell me how much they love my work. Something about doing something you enjoy, and having other people benefit from it was so refreshing.

She pulled her phone from her back pocket, and flipped it over. She pointed to the clear case, as asked me to sign it.

"Are you sure?" I asked, surprised.

She nodded, handing me a sharpie. I signed my first name, and made it out to 'Katherine'. What a sweetheart. She went back into the kitchen, practically skipping. I was getting so much deja vu. I was relaxed, finally. I looked around, admiring the tile, the vintage menu, and the sweet 60's Americana aesthetic they had portrayed.

My thoughts were interrupted by a bar stool being pulled out from next to me, but I didn't think anything of it. Almost every seat was full- I mean, it was a coffee shop on a Saturday morning. I sipped on my drink, keeping to myself. I glanced over at the person silently sitting beside me, i was just a random woman. The hope I hadn't realized sparked in me quickly died down, replaced with that familiar feel of disappointment.

+++

It had been an hour, and my coffee was cold. I frowned, and got up from my warm seat. Such a bummer, and a waste of time. I wanted to cry, I always wanted to cry. I felt good after crying, especially when I had a reason. I really thought I would see him again, but no. It was a coincidence after all. I yelped as I accidentally hit someone, standing directly behind my chair. I looked up, startled as I flopped back down into my seat, barely recognizing those maple eyes, swirling with thought just as I remembered. I looked up, my eyes wide as I could do nothing but sit there and stare like a fool, eyes glossing over with tears I had saved for him for so long. He looked different, but his beauty would still be unmatched. I pursed my lips, swallowing back cries.

"Hey, you." He whispered.

***