Someone Like You | Sample

13

One Bleeding Afternoon
-•-•-
What is this feeling?
Her blood singing to his touch
She cannot help
but shudder
When the red liquid trickles
down her lips
and his fingers
find her skin.
She cannot help
but shudder
When his skin
and hers
touch

What is this feeling?
These butterflies
in her chest
They haven't fluttered in—
How long has it been?

He leans in
The butterflies waltz
to his fragrant melody
Basking in the warmth
of his breath
against her cheeks

What is this feeling?
Has she ever felt this before
She can not recall
Only the scent of his cologne
now lingers in her dreams

She knows
She knows
It is wrong
He is not hers
To keep
A borrowed
moonlight's fantasy

She knows
She knows
She should stop
Then he leans in
And her heart beats
She wishes
She wishes
that
it would just
stop.

"ISAAC!"

Immediately William is before us, picking up a terrified child and putting him on the fluffy white rugs before turning towards me and lifting me up in his arms. I can only watch with painful lips and wide eyes as he slowly lowers me back onto the sofa in a seating position and tilts my chin down.

"Stay like that, I'll be back. Where is the the first aid?" William questions angrily as he stands up and begins moving towards the kitchen.

"On the cabinet beside the refrigerator," I mumble, fighting the urge to lick my lips or look at the damage. My worried eyes instead find a silently crying Isaac and I immediately shuffle forward on the sofa, opening my arms and stretching them towards him.

"Come here," I mouth to the distressed small boy, I feel my heartbreak when he shakes his head instead while fresh streams of tears trail down his cheeks. Isaac looks absolutely terrified. For a second I wonder what of — his father's anger or my injury.

"I can't find it!" William yells and I glance in the kitchen's direction.

"It's in the upper cabinet, right beside the flower pot on top of the refrigerator. On the right!" I call back, not really wanting to move my lips but hissing anyway when I have to. It's no surprise when my now throbbing lips begin making me contemplate cutting them off. Scowling at myself at my chain of thoughts I turn back to the child I'm currently concerned about.

Whatever Isaac is terrified of is secondary here, I'm completely disturbed by it none the less. My entire body is almost itching for me to calm him down. Somehow I know that having him calm in my arms will help. So again, I turn towards the little boy and encouragingly urge him towards me with my arms, secretly hoping for a better response this time.

"Pa will be angry," Isaac whispers, fat beads of tears trailing down his pink chubby cheeks. I shake my head. The soft approach won't work. I suppose he is too afraid. A sigh leaves my lips and I flinch at the sting on my lower lip because of it. Ignoring that, I begin stretch towards the child before me until my fingers clasps around his hand and I softly begin pulling him closer.