Love is Blind

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Love is Blind

Price

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He didn’t know what it was like. He couldn’t have. He couldn’t have known what his ugliness had done to her. He had never felt anything deeply, never gripped onto the last flicker of a flame, never held onto hope for dear life just to have it coldly snuffed out.

 

At the time, she couldn’t fathom that this was the work of the same man she’d loved so very dearly. Standing alone in the pitch with tears falling onto a still warm candle, too fearful to let go, Michaela prayed that it might flicker back to life at least long enough to run for the safety of light which, in reality, she knew did not exist.

 

Barefoot on cold cement, Michaela turned to look hopefully back over her shoulder but was met with the thick, merciless stillness, filled with no hope, no sense of proximity or direction, no stability nor love, and nothing to hold onto, just stagnant suffocating air. There, she stood frozen, with wax candle growing cold in her hands as she slipped to the floor shivering.

 

Michaela was naked, stripped of pride, belief, love and trust. Daniel had thrust her into empty, echoing aloneness because she had given all of herself. Now her everything was gone. He had turned his back on all of it, relegating her to the icy vice-grip of nothing else in her world that mattered as much.

 

Not a soul knew that she was locked in a basement below ground. No windows would save her come daylight. No one; no family nor friend, no love was coming to her rescue. Solitary penalty, she thought, as hope spilled down her cheeks.

 

A chill slid up her spine seizing her throat and a distant scream split the air, growing louder and more intense, until it surrounded her. Michaela twisted her neck turning to look and hoping her eyes would adjust, but then remembered how she had come to this moment, in this solitary place, and realized that the screaming came from her.

 

Michaela dropped the candle and sobbed into her hands. She wasn’t prepared for this. This will be certain death. The though registered like she had ingested a gallon of molten lead gone cold. She curled upon cement wondering how long it would take, how long she would endure the torment of starvation, isolation and black vacancy.

 

Even dying, little piece by little piece, isn’t as horrible as knowing how much I loved and invested in the one who sentenced me to it. How long until I die for this sin, she wondered, and then implored the Heavens, screaming on her knees, “Exactly what is the price for blind love? I trusted my heart”!

 

She pictured him now, laughing among friends, with self-righteous indignance, speaking as though she deserved to die for this; for the crime of believing in Daniel and loving him more than life. “Love is blind,” she whispered into the stillness.

 

Michaela knew that his friends and acquaintances were equally enamored, albeit differently. They too had no idea that the good man they accepted in the warmth of friendship would someday reveal himself; the monster inside would make itself known. Maybe they will be the ones to discover my bones here, she thought, knowing they would only meet the same fate.

 

Having worn out the last of her will, she closed her eyes, whispering into endless nothingness, “Now I lay me down to sleep”…

 
  

by Wildfire8470

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©December 5, 2017 at 6:05 PM

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Tags:  Tuesday Teasers, flash fiction, blind faith blind love, horror, allegory, unrequited love, murder, death

 

Forecast: Tuesday 8/12/2014

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  Forecast for Tuesday, 8/12/2014

 

Brain Fog Guy

Total and utter brain fog
increasing in density
with a good chance of
zero-visibility brain fog
continuing through the night.
All avenues, in and out,
are closed for the duration.
Nevertheless, write recklessly
and with complete abandon.
Your pen knows how to
get you there safely!

Sincerely,
Wildfire8470

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07/29/2014: The Hard Way

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The Hard Way

Jazmine stared out the window reviewing her actions of late. I’m new to being His slave all the time, she thought, He should have accounted for that, but even she couldn’t let herself off that easily.

Sir Reginald had been patient with her, at first. Their first twenty-four hours had taxed her more than she expected. Still, Jaz was disheartened that he’d been so courteous their first night. He turned down the bed, snuffed out the candles and laid her gently on the bed. She lay in expectant anticipation imagining his large, rough hands seeking all the places that pleasured her beyond measure… until she heard him snoring.

She suffered through the next day with nerves causing her to lock her jaw. Sir Reginald was kind that she had slightly over-cooked the meal, which she served as graciously as she could, but he noticed her stilted gait and clipped responses through clenched teeth. He tried to explain that night, but she was strained beyond recovery,

“I wasn’t neglecting you, Jaz. I meant to give you much-needed rest,” He said without guilt.

“Rest,” she questioned with a screech, “You! You! You!”

Before she could find an appropriate expletive, He scooped her up and banished her to an empty room.

Even now she cringed, picturing herself lifting the milk pitcher and hurling it against the wall behind him. Milk splashed him, soaked the walls and shattered glass scattered, sticking to him and littering the floor. She knew this would take a grand apology.

“Total subservience. Absolute obedience,” she whispered to herself, moving to the door he had turned the lock on, “He must forgive me.”

She knelt leaning face-down prepared to accept her fate, knowing she deserved whatever he would do for punishment, I learn the hard way, but I do learn.

 

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The Wedding Date

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The Wedding Date

Don-The Wedding Date

Delia was in love with Don on sight even as a little girl, though she would sooner have bitten her own tongue off than admit it.

Originally, he was the boy next door and she, the victim of his incessant teasing. When he wasn’t pulling her pigtails or getting her in trouble at school, he would punch her arm good-naturedly, but always a little too hard.

She smiled softly now. For all these years he made sure she would think of him constantly. The bruise on her upper-arm was testament to that. It stubbornly remained there throughout grammar, junior, and senior high school.

She couldn’t have imagined, feeling more than disdain for Don, and was relieved he didn’t know what she thought of him then. Now, post-college graduation, the two stood outside the local market staring in disbelief.

“Delia?” He asked as his eyes raked her appreciatively.

“Don? Is it really you?”

“Yes,” he laughed, “You’ve changed.”

“Thanks, I think,” she quipped.

“Have dinner with me,” he said, “We have a lot of catching up to do.”

“I don’t know,” Delia stalled

“Let’s take this one night to get reacquainted. C’mon. What do you say,” he asked with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Remembering that it was pointless to argue with him, she agreed warily. As she turned to go, he spun her around, kissed her deeply, socked her upper-arm and said, “I’ll pick you up at nine. We’ll get married tomorrow.”

Delia stood gasping; trying to catch her breath as she watched his solid frame walk away. She called after him, “You’re joking, right?”

“You’ll have to risk a date with me to find out,” he said with a wicked smirk.

Contrary to years ago Delia smiled brightly in spite of herself, whispering, “Happy Valentine’s Day to me!”


By Wildfire8470

 

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