And Everything Goes to Pieces...
I stand in the foyer of my apartment staring at a sea of broken glass. Every wine glass I own, the glass top of my coffee table, the table from behind the couch, the front of picture frames. Anything easily shattered, I've broken. It still doesn't feel like enough. I grab the phone book off of the side table and launch it at the plate glass sliding door. It barely makes it and bounces off harmlessly. In rage, I dash across the room, using my fists instead.
Just shatter. Just break. Maybe this one will make it feel better. Maybe it'll all make sense with a little more pain and a little more perspective. All I succeed in doing is bruising my already sliced up hands. I scream. Slowly, I fold. Down and down into the glass strewn carpet. Once I'm on my knees, it's not too hard. Then to my hip. Then down I go. Laying down, the tears start to come. It's a good sign, right? Anger then grief. It'd really be easier if I could just shut it all off.
Married. He's getting married. The man who scoffed at the thought, lectured me on my previous foolishness, said he cared but it could never be is now getting married. Lexie was right. They will never see us as equals, just pets to be played with and tossed away as they please. And it just seems the more I try to do right, the worse and worse it gets. First, Audra is angered with me. Then I cannot even take a breath correctly in Patel's presence. Then I go south, to spy and serve, be the perfect Crassus and prove myself, and what do I cause? Nothing but death.
It wasn't me that killed the newly weds, but it might as well have been. They wore my wedding rings, the clothing from the back of my car. I still have their photos on my camera. What did I think was going to happen, the kindred would marry them and send them on a nice honeymoon to Cancun? Of course they were going to die. And I dressed the turkeys for the oven. Yes, Lexie helped track them down. It was as much her fault, and success, as it was mine, but I stood with them. Talked to them. Celebrated with them. Only to watch them slaughtered. And the kindred? Only vaguely pleased at best.
Step by step down this path, a better ghoul and a worse human being. The little bits that kept me hanging onto the good things in the past all fall to pieces with my wine glasses. My wedding rings? Untouchable. The man I loved? Someone else's. My friend, mentor, associate and regnant? Has pawned me off to another for proper training. And then I feel the baby kick. Just a faint flutter, but I'm getting used to the small twitches with purpose. I know what they are now.
How can I bring a baby into this world? How can I stay in it myself? I rake my fingertips across the glass. The immediate pain feels better than anything else.
Just shatter. Just break. Maybe this one will make it feel better. Maybe it'll all make sense with a little more pain and a little more perspective. All I succeed in doing is bruising my already sliced up hands. I scream. Slowly, I fold. Down and down into the glass strewn carpet. Once I'm on my knees, it's not too hard. Then to my hip. Then down I go. Laying down, the tears start to come. It's a good sign, right? Anger then grief. It'd really be easier if I could just shut it all off.
Married. He's getting married. The man who scoffed at the thought, lectured me on my previous foolishness, said he cared but it could never be is now getting married. Lexie was right. They will never see us as equals, just pets to be played with and tossed away as they please. And it just seems the more I try to do right, the worse and worse it gets. First, Audra is angered with me. Then I cannot even take a breath correctly in Patel's presence. Then I go south, to spy and serve, be the perfect Crassus and prove myself, and what do I cause? Nothing but death.
It wasn't me that killed the newly weds, but it might as well have been. They wore my wedding rings, the clothing from the back of my car. I still have their photos on my camera. What did I think was going to happen, the kindred would marry them and send them on a nice honeymoon to Cancun? Of course they were going to die. And I dressed the turkeys for the oven. Yes, Lexie helped track them down. It was as much her fault, and success, as it was mine, but I stood with them. Talked to them. Celebrated with them. Only to watch them slaughtered. And the kindred? Only vaguely pleased at best.
Step by step down this path, a better ghoul and a worse human being. The little bits that kept me hanging onto the good things in the past all fall to pieces with my wine glasses. My wedding rings? Untouchable. The man I loved? Someone else's. My friend, mentor, associate and regnant? Has pawned me off to another for proper training. And then I feel the baby kick. Just a faint flutter, but I'm getting used to the small twitches with purpose. I know what they are now.
How can I bring a baby into this world? How can I stay in it myself? I rake my fingertips across the glass. The immediate pain feels better than anything else.