He was 19 when he lost his wife . . .
They took her during the night
Those bastards
They took in the night for their fun
A few drunken idiots
Who didn’t like him
And who always lusted over her
They took her for their fun
Real sick fucks
Real sick
He met her when they were both 11 years old
She used to dance gracefully
And sing beautifully
Everyone loved her
Everyone that met her really loved her
They couldn’t help it
She was light
In the darkness
She was pure
In a world full tainted souls
She loved so truly
So deeply
And for some reason
She loved him
An angry boy
With a temper
A degenerate
A boy without a real home
A broken child
Almost a beast
But
That wasn’t how she saw him
No
She called him her Sun
And all she wanted from him
Was to shine
Well,
That was before they took her in the night
He doesn’t want to shine now
No
All he can do
Is rage
He lost his Sunflower
And he loved her truly
As much as a broken boy could love something so beautiful—so precious
He loved her with his bones—with his soul.
Everything he was loved her
But . . .
They still took her in the night
And they had their fun with her
And then they left her in the woods
Bloody and bruised
But
She was strong
And she walked on
Limping badly
Tears streaming down her face
The moonlight illuminated her red hair
As well as the blood that was on her face
She said one thing over and over again
His name
She said his name over and over again
As if she was in a trance
They told him that she didn’t stop saying his name until . . .
Until she was gone forever . . .
He screamed in the hospital
He punched holes in the white walls
Everyone looked at him with terror
As he became a wild animal
All he could see was the color red
She was the only goodness he had
She had been the only light inside of his soul
She was the only moral code he knew
Now
He was unleashed
He was rage
He was pain
He was suffering
He was injustice
Well, he found those men
And what he did to them . . .
He’s 30 now
And vengeance didn’t make him feel any better
Revenge only works once
And afterwards
He was still broken
Still full of rage
Still lonely
The pain never ceased
She was in every dream
Suffering in every breath
Hatred in every step
He was a monster
Carved by the world
Molded by man
A monster of God’s creation
Thrown down into hell
To become Satan’s
But
He doesn’t believe in all that
He only ever believed in her
Shining seemed like an impossible task
After she passed
But
That was all she wanted from him
She loved him the way that he was, a degenerate
But she knew he could be better
She knew the demons he fought with
And figured light was the only antidote
She had a vision of what he could become
And . . .
In his dreams
She reminded him of that vision
She would tell him to believe in something again
Anything
It didn’t matter
As long as he believed in something
But he always woke up cold
Alone
And the dreams just hurt
He hated waking from them
To join the world that molded him
He hated all the eyes that saw him
A fire burned inside
It burnt his bones
And took hold of his soul
There was no redemption here for him
Or so he thought
But
Life is a mystery
Everyone must stand alone . . .
Even a hollow man can find a home . . .
And when he heard a gentle voice calling out his name
He followed it
Not knowing where to go
Or what to do
Only knowing that someone was calling his name
It might’ve been the wind
It might’ve been in the mind
It might’ve come from outside of our idea of space/time
But the voice led him to a little home
Out in the woods
He walked up to the door
And gently knocked
He heard sobs coming from inside
And two voices
One voice
Told the other not to answer the door
The other voice
Brushed her off
And he heard little footsteps approaching . . .
When the door opened
A little red-headed girl stood there
And a blonde lady, around his age, probably,
Sat down at the table
A bottle of wine in front of her
Her eyes, red and puffy
He looked at the red-headed girl
And then to the older lady
They had both been crying furiously
“Who the hell are you?” the little girl asked him, with a fierce bite in the way she spoke
“I-I heard my name . . . it led me here.”
“No one here was saying your name, pal. Now close that door on your way out. It's as cold as death in here,” the lady said. She winced at the word ‘death’ as she said it.
“Sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to disturb you. It’s just—. . . are you two okay?”
“We lost daddy yesterday.”
The older lady got up and escorted her daughter away from the door.
“Quite, Violet,” she snapped at the girl. “He doesn’t need to know that.”
“But, he asked us?” she asked, innocently.
The man stood there, frozen
Something was happening to him
Something out of his control . . .
“I lost my wife,” he said, his eyes blank. “A long time ago now. It feels like yesterday, though.”
He looked at them and they were both staring at him, waiting.
“She visits me in my dreams every night. Doesn’t matter how much I drink, I still dream of her . . .”
“Maybe she is trying to tell you something?” the little girl asked.
“Maybe . . .”
Then the little girl, violet, with the bright red hair, sprinted up to him and hugged him with all the strength she had.
He was taken back.
“Violet!” the lady yelled in protest.
“I’m sorry that your wife died,” she whispered to him, her face buried in his stomach.
“I’m sorry you lost your father,” he said, looking down at her.
She started to cry at these words.
He looked around for help but the blonde lady just shrugged.
The little girl kept her face pressed against his stomach as she cried, squeezing him tighter.
Her strength surprised him.
He looked around again, searching for an answer
“It looks like y’all could use some more firewood?”
“We’ll be fine,” the blonde lady said, crossing her arms.
“Yeah . . . I reckon you will be.”
He looked down at the little girl hugging him tightly, grieving greatly.
“What if I came back tomorrow?”
The little girl let go quickly, and looked up at him. “You have to!”
He smirked slightly. Then looked up at the lady, who was shaking her head.
“Is that okay?” he asked her.
“You have to come back!” the little girl answered for her mom, who sighed loudly.
“I suppose it’s fine. Just bring wine. Okay? You are welcome if you bring wine. A lot of it.”
He nodded.
“And you have to tell us about your wife!” the little girl added.
He felt a lump grow in his throat and a rock sink in his stomach.
He swallowed the lump down and took a deep breath.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll try.”
And that was the day that he stopped seeing red.
CH 1/6/25
Comentários