More Like A Relapse
Hemoglobin
She threw the covers off of her, rolling out of her bed and landing lightly onto the carpeted floor. She took a moment to allow her eyes to get use to the darkness of the cloudy night. Quickly, the girl threw on some clothes she had laid out beforehand, checking twice to ensure she had what she needed for the job.
Carefully, she made her way down the stairs, avoiding as many creeks as possible. She slid past the front door, and she was free.
To the neighbor’s yard, a dog darker than the night itself became alert of her presence. Its ears perked forward, head raised, and tail wagging. The girl smiled to herself when she heard the jingle of the canine’s chain come closer, until the chain was taunt and restricting of the dog’s further advancement.
“Hey, baby,” the girl whispered to her four-legged friend, crouching down to meet the moist tongue and unpleasant warm breath. She could almost see the dog’s honey brown eyes glistening in joy of seeing a life long friend. How heartwarming. The teenager loosened the dog’s collar, petting the black beast lovingly, and stood to walk away. After only a few steps, the dog began to follow her like a duckling would its mother.
“Midnight,” the girl called melodically, stretching the name out for its full two syllables. The dog increased its pace to keep up, tail held high and waving like a banner. Its emaciated body practically floated over the pavement it supposedly trotted along on, but the girl had never really believed this dog to be just any dog.
This was the spot. She veered off the road into an area, a pond, rather, surrounded by trees; the body of water not much larger than a medium-sized house. The dog followed diligently, unafraid of the foliage. The girl went as far in as would be necessary. She sat down on the wet, dead leaves and called to the dog, opening her arms for the energetic quadruped to run into. Again the animal licked the adolescent’s face excitedly, almost similar to a toddler bribing someone to be told a secret. How heartwarming.
The girl took hold of the dog’s collar and petted the canine once more, whispering over and over again, “You’re so beautiful. Beautiful.” The girl then took hold of the animal’s muzzle, placing one hand on the back of its head and opposite to the side of the other hand. The black dog whimpered, as if it knew what was coming. Soon enough it would whimper no more.
She laid the corpse down gently, as if she were laying a baby in its cradle. Her friend’s final resting place. But she would not let her friend rest in peace. The girl took from her side pocket a pair of latex gloves, and fitted them onto her hands. Next, she drew out a razorblade dispenser and unsheathed a blade. Working slowly and as precisely as possible, she cut the black dog from its collar bone down to the last frail bones of its protruding ribcage. She cut again, horizontal lines to make the loose skin similar to two flaps. Warm blood oozed slowly from the deep gashes and onto the leafy ground. The girl wiped away what blood she could until she saw the cage of her prize: the ribcage. The white bones and the hard tissue that connected them. She again began cutting until the tough tissue gave way, and was pliable under her hands.
The bones moved away, much due to the great effort exerted in moving them, to reveal a fist-size ball of muscle. Red, almost purple, with sporadic blue veins decorating its clump-like features. She cut away at its connected arteries until the mass was free of the body. Holding onto the once-beating heart with both hands, she looked down at the face of her old friend. The friend she had witnessed the birth of. The friend she had killed.
“Thank you, Midnight. I love you.”
The body sank to the bottom of the deep pond. The strike of the weight against the dirt underneath stirred somewhat, encasing the memories along with the delicate, massacred corpse.
♥♥♥
She waited in the room patiently, a red bag at the foot of the chair. Her mother had asked about the carrying case, but no questions had been answered. The girl turned to look at a man when he called her name, beckoning her to walk down the hallway into his office. She kept the conversation light and as short as masquerades could allow, but even Broadway had to come to an end sometime. The psychologist inquired about the bag she had brought along with her. The girl was silent a moment.
“What of your confidentiality rights?” she asked.
He cited them, beginning to eye the bag curiously. The adolescent sighed, standing from her chair and undoing the draw-string bag. She brought out a plastic, Ziploc bag, in it a mound of salt which seemed to be clinging diligently to a mass.
She held the bag out and dropped the heart on the man’s desk.
“I am very ill. Fix me.”
Carefully, she made her way down the stairs, avoiding as many creeks as possible. She slid past the front door, and she was free.
To the neighbor’s yard, a dog darker than the night itself became alert of her presence. Its ears perked forward, head raised, and tail wagging. The girl smiled to herself when she heard the jingle of the canine’s chain come closer, until the chain was taunt and restricting of the dog’s further advancement.
“Hey, baby,” the girl whispered to her four-legged friend, crouching down to meet the moist tongue and unpleasant warm breath. She could almost see the dog’s honey brown eyes glistening in joy of seeing a life long friend. How heartwarming. The teenager loosened the dog’s collar, petting the black beast lovingly, and stood to walk away. After only a few steps, the dog began to follow her like a duckling would its mother.
“Midnight,” the girl called melodically, stretching the name out for its full two syllables. The dog increased its pace to keep up, tail held high and waving like a banner. Its emaciated body practically floated over the pavement it supposedly trotted along on, but the girl had never really believed this dog to be just any dog.
This was the spot. She veered off the road into an area, a pond, rather, surrounded by trees; the body of water not much larger than a medium-sized house. The dog followed diligently, unafraid of the foliage. The girl went as far in as would be necessary. She sat down on the wet, dead leaves and called to the dog, opening her arms for the energetic quadruped to run into. Again the animal licked the adolescent’s face excitedly, almost similar to a toddler bribing someone to be told a secret. How heartwarming.
The girl took hold of the dog’s collar and petted the canine once more, whispering over and over again, “You’re so beautiful. Beautiful.” The girl then took hold of the animal’s muzzle, placing one hand on the back of its head and opposite to the side of the other hand. The black dog whimpered, as if it knew what was coming. Soon enough it would whimper no more.
She laid the corpse down gently, as if she were laying a baby in its cradle. Her friend’s final resting place. But she would not let her friend rest in peace. The girl took from her side pocket a pair of latex gloves, and fitted them onto her hands. Next, she drew out a razorblade dispenser and unsheathed a blade. Working slowly and as precisely as possible, she cut the black dog from its collar bone down to the last frail bones of its protruding ribcage. She cut again, horizontal lines to make the loose skin similar to two flaps. Warm blood oozed slowly from the deep gashes and onto the leafy ground. The girl wiped away what blood she could until she saw the cage of her prize: the ribcage. The white bones and the hard tissue that connected them. She again began cutting until the tough tissue gave way, and was pliable under her hands.
The bones moved away, much due to the great effort exerted in moving them, to reveal a fist-size ball of muscle. Red, almost purple, with sporadic blue veins decorating its clump-like features. She cut away at its connected arteries until the mass was free of the body. Holding onto the once-beating heart with both hands, she looked down at the face of her old friend. The friend she had witnessed the birth of. The friend she had killed.
“Thank you, Midnight. I love you.”
The body sank to the bottom of the deep pond. The strike of the weight against the dirt underneath stirred somewhat, encasing the memories along with the delicate, massacred corpse.
♥♥♥
She waited in the room patiently, a red bag at the foot of the chair. Her mother had asked about the carrying case, but no questions had been answered. The girl turned to look at a man when he called her name, beckoning her to walk down the hallway into his office. She kept the conversation light and as short as masquerades could allow, but even Broadway had to come to an end sometime. The psychologist inquired about the bag she had brought along with her. The girl was silent a moment.
“What of your confidentiality rights?” she asked.
He cited them, beginning to eye the bag curiously. The adolescent sighed, standing from her chair and undoing the draw-string bag. She brought out a plastic, Ziploc bag, in it a mound of salt which seemed to be clinging diligently to a mass.
She held the bag out and dropped the heart on the man’s desk.
“I am very ill. Fix me.”