No One Killed Venus Wilson

XXXI. TRENTE ET UNE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

THERE IS A THING that stands between existence and nonexistence, and that is life. What stands between birth and death, what stands between one's first and last breath  — life. Full of happiness, full of sadness, full of good deeds and bad. It is life that defines each being on this planet. To be alive, to be truly alive is what many ponder as they travel the world as visitors on their way to their final destination.

What does it mean to be alive?

"Every time I'm around you, I feel so alive!"

"Let's be like this forever, Venus. Just you and me, we'll go far away from this place  — no one will know us, no one will be able to judge us."

Is it the kiss of love that awakens every fiber in one's body, reminding them that they are alive. The hot touch of their lover's fingers on their bare body, or the sense of home when familiar arms wrap one in a warm blanket, kissing them goodnight.

Is it the feeling of laughing so hard that one's belly hurts, or is that feeling of being caged in while sobs rack through their body as they latch onto the thin cloth covering their bare chest.

What does it mean to be alive?

"You were my best friend, Venus, and you ended up being the one that ruined me. I loved you the most  — it was us, we were supposed to last. You ruined me, you took everything from me..."

To be aware, to be present in each moment on earth as they wander from one crevice to the other  — is that what it means to be alive? Or is it the agony that begins to weigh down in their bones, that the end is near.

The inevitable end.

What does it all mean in the end as they stand before the gates of their true destination, the only luggage in their hands, a tally of all those that suffered around them?

"No!  — He didn't kill himself, she did  — Venus fucking Wilson killed my boyfriend. She killed him... she killed him..."

And in the mirror in front of them, the sins of their past etched in the wrinkles of their palms  — swimming in their irises  — the fear of tomorrow.

+ + +

The last dark cloud swallowed the ray of light that shone through the sky, kissing the grass that had been freshly watered.  Lily's gaze hesitantly rose from the trimmed lawn she had parked across to the door that reminded her of the gates of hell. A foreign feeling swam free in her veins as she tried to muster enough courage to pull the key from the ignition socket. Although, the unnamed feeling was far too powerful, not allowing her to take her feeble fingers off the gear shift.

She inhaled a soft breath of air, laced with memories of past parties she'd attended. Despite the windows being rolled up, a hint of marijuana awakened her senses, and her eyelids that were once too heavy to stay open widened.  Lily's fingers abandoned the gear shift and instead wrapped around the phone that was placed neatly in the cupholder of her car. Her eyes momentarily fell upon the invitation Dominic had given to her just days prior, and for a moment time halted. For a moment, there was nothing that existed in this mess but her  — only selfishness existed in this plane. One that did not care about justice, one ruled by the fear, the uneasiness that had infected every corner of her mind like a virus.

"Stop," Lily instructed her mind, although her eyes failed to rip away from the invitation.

"You don't know what you're getting yourself into, Lily. You're ready to throw your reputation away for a slut like Kate?"