title: Lights
auther: maeve
disclaimer: I don't anything, I don't think
rating: pg I guess, who knows in this day in age
The lights in my rear view mirror startled me. Flashing red and blue, I had not heard the siren.
The cop is a stocky man with strong hands. I wonder if he has ever had to use those hands to hurt anyone. I wonder if he knows what pain those hands can cause him. I see the wrinkles in his mouth and I think he knows, I think he’s seen what hands and minds can do. All that pain. All the horror.
“Do you realize you were doing 15 in a 35 mile per hour zone, Ma’am?”
No, I hadn’t. I don’t even remember getting into the car.
“Are you ok, Ma’am?”
Am I ok?
And then I’m laughing and I’m laughing and I can’t stop and it hurts. The cop has green eyes and the green surrounds me, like water. I remember green eyes on someone. Once. Long ago. I think they were important. No….I know they were important.
I see a flash of red hair and I feel a twinge of pain. A soft voice and a fleeting caress and I’m lost…so very lost. The cop is staring at me. With those green eyes of his that I want to tear out and I don’t’ know why but I do, so very badly. Green eyes I think I used to love once….no, not once, I love them now, here and now, and I fear forever. I fear they will eat me up inside until I burst or die.
I’ve stopped laughing and I feel the tears run down my cheeks. Haven’t I cried enough? Haven’t I gone to bed with visions of red hair, and a small room, and a kitten with sharp claws. Don’t I wake up screaming, crying, so upset that the people next door called the police once. They thought I was killing myself……maybe I was.
I don’t remember how I got here or why. I remember a house with a stern man and a boy older then me with calloused hands and the sting of a belt. I remember a young girl with dark hair and her sister (I think?) with the light blonde hair and the caring, tight smile. There’s an older man with them, not stern but gentle, with a soft smile and a violent, hard, bleached guy who always seems to look so sad. I remember them so vividly, not their names (Anya?....Donnie?) so much as their faces. There is one I only get glimpses of: red hair, a soft smile, a touch on my cheek. She is the one that is most important but the pain keeps me from remembering.
The cop has taken my driver’s license, he had to extract it from my purse. He pauses at my age, I don’t think he came even close to guessing right. I smile and it is bitter, tight, knowing. I think I used to be happy once, but now I am forever frowning and I don’t know why. I don’t know anything anymore. Why my eyes look like they have seen death and the haunted shadows linger underneath. Why I can’t seem to remember where I used to live or the names of the people I used to hang out (did I?) with. I guess something terrible happened but I don’t know what it was….or is. Sometimes I wake up and there’s an image of some terrible monster in my head and the girl with the light blonde hair has a stake but then it fades away before I can hold onto it.
The cop pulls me out of the car. His hands this time are gentle and caring. I can feel the roughness in him. He knows about the pain hands can bring. He has seen the death it can accomplish and his grip is tender, light. I sit in the police car while the cop locks my car and gets my purse. I don’t know where he is going to take me but I hope it is somewhere safe. The car pulls away and I look out the window.
Where am I?
Who am I?
Why did this happen to me?
[This message has been edited by Maeve (edited January 08, 2002).]
[This message has been edited by Maeve (edited January 09, 2002).]