keikokitten
in
__vam
(no subject)
Short story, "Your pretty face is going to hell"
The idea is not purely mine, I got it from someone in here, though I'm not quite sure who. If you want, just comment and Ill give credit where credit is due.
Your pretty Face is Going to Hell
I packed my bags the instant Migé called me. No force in the world could stop me from seeing you. I jammed a nap sack full of clothes and never once stopped to look back. You needed me, you honestly needed me, and I wasn’t going to fail you.
I remember April’s shrill voice, the panic in her eyes. I remember the feel of Jenn’s arms around me, an embrace I’d forsaken for a different kind of love. I remember them all, standing out side, hugging themselves from the cold, watching me from the driveway as I backed out for good. The sheets of rain came down upon them, it was as if the heavens were crying for me, crying for us. I recall the sound of the car, its low growl, the crunching of gravel below its tires. As I pulled into the main road April called me on my cell, she was worried, she was scared. She wanted me to come back. No one could sleep. She wanted me to promise to call her in the morning. I wanted her to promise to get some sleep. Neither of us went through with our accord.
I had to wait three hours at the airport. I had to get a ticket in coach, I had to sit next to some whining woman and her babbling child. But I didn’t care. I was coming to see you, I was coming to be with you. The airplane ride was the longest I’ve ever known. The inky black darkness outside of my small round window brought me no solace. All I could thing of was you.
And as I stepped off of that plane, I literally fell into Mige’s arms. We held each other tight, having no one else to cling to, and exchanged words of sympathy.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.”
“I should have taken better care of him.”
“It’s all my fault, you look so tired.”
And on and on and on, until we made our way out of the airport, dizzy and tired, our minds racing from the thought of you. I drove to the hospital. Mige fell asleep on the way up. He must have spent the whole time looking after you. As I parked the car in the hospital parking lot, I felt a rapping in my chest, it was as if my heart was on the verge of exploding. I fancied I could hear it. Thumping. Thumping. Pulsing. Throbbing. The closer I drew to you, the worse it became. Until I was standing right outside of your door. My hand on the cold sterile knob. I hesitated to open it, and were it not for the warm, reasuring feel of Mige’s hand on my shoulder I probably would have walked away.
I stepped into the room, the dull light bathed you in a phosphorescent glow. Your eyes were closed shut, beautiful, long thick eyelashes casting shadows on your gently rounded cheeks. I wanted to still my heartbeat. I wanted to keep from awaking you at any cost. But I drew closer to you, I kneeled next to you. I placed the curve of my palm on you cold, cold cheek. I wanted so badly to look into your eyes. I must have been mad, because I almost thought of pulling back your eyelids, just so that I could try and get lost in the gleam of your eyes. But of course, I refrained. Mige sat down in what looked like a nest, a little armchair stuffed with a blanket and pillow. As I whispered my love for you, you stirred, and a black hole seemed to grow in my heart, gaping and ugly, it drew in all the cold air.
“V-Ville.” I swallowed hard, blinking back the tears that I had refrained so well for so long.
“He’s. He can’t hear you. He might as well be dead. He’s basically dead from the neck down and...”Mige interrupted, his voice a low mettalic whisper, almost as dead as the whirr of the machines.
“He can hear me.” I insisted. I knew you could hear me! I could see it in your face. And I swear that the longer I spoke to you, the brighter grew your face. I must have whispered to you for an hour or so, when you blinked your eyes open, and parted your lips.
“I’m going to die.” You croaked, and my repressed tears streamed down my face. I slid my hand into yours, beneath the itching warmth of a blanket, only to find it cold.
“I know you’re touching me.” You whispered. “But I can’t feel you.” So I touched you where you could feel me, I pressed my lips to your cheek, finding it somewhat warmer than earlier, and kissed you gently.
Mige stirred, he hadn’t heard us, he lay, his head in his hands, fast asleep.
“Ville.” I hissed, “You can’t die! Live for me. Please...” I looked deeply into your emerald green eyes, searching them for some sign of hope, some sign that you were fighting to live. But I found those deep green eyes empty. And the longer I peered into them, the duller and the greyer the became.
“Ville!” I snapped you back into attention. “Please don’t go!”
“Come with me.” You called out. Your eyes agleam. And I knew then and there, that I would never see April again. I took you into my arms, careful not to harm you, and lifting you under your legs and head, I headed for the door. Mige was the first to try and stop me, confused, sleepy, dazed, he argued my motives. The doctors were the second to try to stop me, but a sharp glance in their direction silenced them. How exactly I got you out of the hospital is beyond me, but as you lay, your head in Mige’s lap, laying in the back seat of his car, I knew that no matter who tried to stand in our way, we would be together.
Mige tried to argue with me again, but to no avail. I picked you up, ahh, weightless as you were, and began the ascent into your apartment.
I lay you gingerly on your bed, kicked aside a few bottles of beer, cursed things! And dug into your armoire, searching for the gun that I’d given you for protection. As my hand wrapped around the cold smooth handle I recalled the argument we had about guns.
“I don’t need one!” You argued.
“The hell you don’t! Remember when that man followed you home? If I hadn’t been here he could have-. You’re taking the gun! I can’t always be here for you!”
“I don’t need you to look after me all the time!” You insisted, but my will was stronger, and that day I taught you how to take off the safety, how to aim, how to shoot. I bought you that gun to protect you. And I, I was going to use that same gun to end our lives. And that brings us to the now.
As I stood over Ville’s cold, tired body, holding his gun in my hand, I couldn’t think of the words to say. I couldn’t think of a proper good bye. He lay in his bed, immobile, his eyes unblinking, unflinching, and all that I wanted in that one momment was for him to be happy. I could see the trmors of pain pass through him, I could here his languid, heavy breathe. I could almost taste the inertia in his limbs. The stillness with which he lay, unable to make a move, in the even that he change his mind.
“I won’t change my mind.” He answered, as though he could read my mind. But I needed one more kiss from him, and lowering my face within reach of his, I bent and kissed him deeply on the lips, a kiss foreshadowed by death. In that instant I had pulled the trigger, and a small, perfectly round hole emerged in his head. I wasted no time in finishing the deed. I walked over to the side of the bed, my hands and face speckled with his blood, and placing that cold cold steel in my mouth, I lay down next to my lover and blew the trigger.
The idea is not purely mine, I got it from someone in here, though I'm not quite sure who. If you want, just comment and Ill give credit where credit is due.
Your pretty Face is Going to Hell
I packed my bags the instant Migé called me. No force in the world could stop me from seeing you. I jammed a nap sack full of clothes and never once stopped to look back. You needed me, you honestly needed me, and I wasn’t going to fail you.
I remember April’s shrill voice, the panic in her eyes. I remember the feel of Jenn’s arms around me, an embrace I’d forsaken for a different kind of love. I remember them all, standing out side, hugging themselves from the cold, watching me from the driveway as I backed out for good. The sheets of rain came down upon them, it was as if the heavens were crying for me, crying for us. I recall the sound of the car, its low growl, the crunching of gravel below its tires. As I pulled into the main road April called me on my cell, she was worried, she was scared. She wanted me to come back. No one could sleep. She wanted me to promise to call her in the morning. I wanted her to promise to get some sleep. Neither of us went through with our accord.
I had to wait three hours at the airport. I had to get a ticket in coach, I had to sit next to some whining woman and her babbling child. But I didn’t care. I was coming to see you, I was coming to be with you. The airplane ride was the longest I’ve ever known. The inky black darkness outside of my small round window brought me no solace. All I could thing of was you.
And as I stepped off of that plane, I literally fell into Mige’s arms. We held each other tight, having no one else to cling to, and exchanged words of sympathy.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.”
“I should have taken better care of him.”
“It’s all my fault, you look so tired.”
And on and on and on, until we made our way out of the airport, dizzy and tired, our minds racing from the thought of you. I drove to the hospital. Mige fell asleep on the way up. He must have spent the whole time looking after you. As I parked the car in the hospital parking lot, I felt a rapping in my chest, it was as if my heart was on the verge of exploding. I fancied I could hear it. Thumping. Thumping. Pulsing. Throbbing. The closer I drew to you, the worse it became. Until I was standing right outside of your door. My hand on the cold sterile knob. I hesitated to open it, and were it not for the warm, reasuring feel of Mige’s hand on my shoulder I probably would have walked away.
I stepped into the room, the dull light bathed you in a phosphorescent glow. Your eyes were closed shut, beautiful, long thick eyelashes casting shadows on your gently rounded cheeks. I wanted to still my heartbeat. I wanted to keep from awaking you at any cost. But I drew closer to you, I kneeled next to you. I placed the curve of my palm on you cold, cold cheek. I wanted so badly to look into your eyes. I must have been mad, because I almost thought of pulling back your eyelids, just so that I could try and get lost in the gleam of your eyes. But of course, I refrained. Mige sat down in what looked like a nest, a little armchair stuffed with a blanket and pillow. As I whispered my love for you, you stirred, and a black hole seemed to grow in my heart, gaping and ugly, it drew in all the cold air.
“V-Ville.” I swallowed hard, blinking back the tears that I had refrained so well for so long.
“He’s. He can’t hear you. He might as well be dead. He’s basically dead from the neck down and...”Mige interrupted, his voice a low mettalic whisper, almost as dead as the whirr of the machines.
“He can hear me.” I insisted. I knew you could hear me! I could see it in your face. And I swear that the longer I spoke to you, the brighter grew your face. I must have whispered to you for an hour or so, when you blinked your eyes open, and parted your lips.
“I’m going to die.” You croaked, and my repressed tears streamed down my face. I slid my hand into yours, beneath the itching warmth of a blanket, only to find it cold.
“I know you’re touching me.” You whispered. “But I can’t feel you.” So I touched you where you could feel me, I pressed my lips to your cheek, finding it somewhat warmer than earlier, and kissed you gently.
Mige stirred, he hadn’t heard us, he lay, his head in his hands, fast asleep.
“Ville.” I hissed, “You can’t die! Live for me. Please...” I looked deeply into your emerald green eyes, searching them for some sign of hope, some sign that you were fighting to live. But I found those deep green eyes empty. And the longer I peered into them, the duller and the greyer the became.
“Ville!” I snapped you back into attention. “Please don’t go!”
“Come with me.” You called out. Your eyes agleam. And I knew then and there, that I would never see April again. I took you into my arms, careful not to harm you, and lifting you under your legs and head, I headed for the door. Mige was the first to try and stop me, confused, sleepy, dazed, he argued my motives. The doctors were the second to try to stop me, but a sharp glance in their direction silenced them. How exactly I got you out of the hospital is beyond me, but as you lay, your head in Mige’s lap, laying in the back seat of his car, I knew that no matter who tried to stand in our way, we would be together.
Mige tried to argue with me again, but to no avail. I picked you up, ahh, weightless as you were, and began the ascent into your apartment.
I lay you gingerly on your bed, kicked aside a few bottles of beer, cursed things! And dug into your armoire, searching for the gun that I’d given you for protection. As my hand wrapped around the cold smooth handle I recalled the argument we had about guns.
“I don’t need one!” You argued.
“The hell you don’t! Remember when that man followed you home? If I hadn’t been here he could have-. You’re taking the gun! I can’t always be here for you!”
“I don’t need you to look after me all the time!” You insisted, but my will was stronger, and that day I taught you how to take off the safety, how to aim, how to shoot. I bought you that gun to protect you. And I, I was going to use that same gun to end our lives. And that brings us to the now.
As I stood over Ville’s cold, tired body, holding his gun in my hand, I couldn’t think of the words to say. I couldn’t think of a proper good bye. He lay in his bed, immobile, his eyes unblinking, unflinching, and all that I wanted in that one momment was for him to be happy. I could see the trmors of pain pass through him, I could here his languid, heavy breathe. I could almost taste the inertia in his limbs. The stillness with which he lay, unable to make a move, in the even that he change his mind.
“I won’t change my mind.” He answered, as though he could read my mind. But I needed one more kiss from him, and lowering my face within reach of his, I bent and kissed him deeply on the lips, a kiss foreshadowed by death. In that instant I had pulled the trigger, and a small, perfectly round hole emerged in his head. I wasted no time in finishing the deed. I walked over to the side of the bed, my hands and face speckled with his blood, and placing that cold cold steel in my mouth, I lay down next to my lover and blew the trigger.