Reasons to Live - a collection of flash fiction stories

Perfect and Poisonous

There are times when I find myself sitting on the floor of my Manhattan Penthouse Suite, a bottle of Chardonnay in my grasp and some old melody coming from the speakers. The voice sounds familiar. It's the voice we all had listened to all those years as scared, confused children. It's the voice that would haunt us, the voice that would bring us to our knees. It's the voice we'd swoon over, cry with. I know it well. I've memorized every single syllable, let every single sound seep under my flesh like acid. It's his voice, the man I met when I was just a wanna-be rocker. The man who propelled me into a dream that I was not ready for. 

There are times when the night seems eternal, spread over the skyline like a thick blanket of tar, hiding each and every star behind its morbidness. There are times when there are not enough candles one can light to made the darkness fade.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I hear the voices of angels speaking out, telling me good-bye. The loneliness trickles over my arms, decorating my flesh with a line of goosebumps. Now the only sensation licking at my neck is October's chill. We thought we could change the world, all we did was change each other. We became beasts we could not tame, perfect and poisonous. Now deep in my heart there is a void in the shape of you.

So here I remain, in invisible shackles. Nothing can take your place, no amount of money, no new high. In every crowd there's always someone with your face, in every fan's smile there's always someone willing to take your place. But the void persists for it's you I miss. A million nights of sorrow, locked in a thousand different rooms with hundreds of different faces, all of them nameless and quickly forgotten. An abundance of needles, a river of wine. Nothing heals this heart of mine for I can never forget you.

© Christine Bottas. All rights reserved 2015-2016.