Trust me you will want to read this one entirely! Enjoy 🙂
A couple was over at our house couple nights ago and the topic of me locking all the locks all the time came up. If I am being real the reason I am always doing that, is because the longer I can keep the attacker out the longer I can plan my attack. Where do I start, what angle do I need to be, how high will I have to swing, will I need something solid, or will my knife throwing/jedi skills be enough to take on this MOFO. What if its more than one. How good are they with guns, do they even have guns. I don’t know why I think like this. I’m also that mother that doesn’t allow sleep overs for her children I guess I just don’t want to ever leave them vulnerable. I also do not let them play outside unless I am there or I can see them. And when I do allow them to play in our backyard, they have a timer on and they know the escape route whichever way the stranger or some one they know comes in the yard, or through the house. I know I am insane. I shouldn’t be this crazy but you know what its something I stand strong on and will not budge. In saying that I would like to share with you guys something very personal to me and pretty much explains a lot of maybe why I am the way I am when it comes to this.
The italic font is the stalker obviously. Some people get confused though…..
A bright white glare stares back at me, as I reach across and pull back my curtains. The bitter cold slips through the cracks, while I watch the children build a snowmen. Across the way, a man daring and old, gives me a wave, dropping an envelope. Shakily I dress, shoes, hat, gloves last, I carry on over, to where he once stood. After a tear shed, and my shivering stops, I recap, SAD and SHAKEN I, ghostly guided again, I can’t face the pain of remembering his grin, Forced to a sofa, his crumbled letter in hand, my eyes swollen, my heart breaking once more, I read what he wrote me, his imaginary plan.
“- My darling I’ll be back to get you, we’ll ship to the shore, the one where my mother and father were born. We’ll go for walks, and have talks, you’ll see, for you will always be so happy with me. No more tears for you, my dear, do you hear, we are at the end of our troubles, for this I swear. You are my lady, my flower, my power, that holds up my love at the top of your tower. Your innocence lighting the way, we were meant to be. Don’t hesitate darling, you know we are right, to go on with our lives, we can concur this fight. Come see me in the morning, by our pile of wood, I’ll be dress in black; I’ll be wearing a hood. Please respond to my letter, don’t ignore my pleas. For I can make our fantasy come true by Christmas Eve.”
At first he faced like the blank stares, the what are you doing here look? To risking his morals in breathless dares, and lowering his eyes on my left foot, Then over to my right, why suddenly breathing my air?
HIs interest changed so fast, it blew that spark, tumbling words whispering in my ear, “Cars out of gas, lets walk through the park, lets take a stroll on this day every year, this sold to us time, to rhyme with fear.”
My eyes so onto his game ,with fright they chased the glances for I need some direction. A dead flame is awakened, overpowered by shadow, sucking out my air as the heat grows higher. My chains start to rattle, I can’t get loose, I’m kept, and tied to a predestined atmosphere, whatever is left, That which I hold most sacred in my heart, the half unsheltered, returns to the start. Where I was before I became ripped apart.
“You dared away my morals, you keeper of sin, my black horse whom love can’t be hidden within. Five days of thoughts I had connected with you, then nights of dreams of how to drop you the clue. Many years gone by, I felt the warmth on and off, hugs and kisses, your well place lips so soft. My inner beating hails high don’t stop- don’t move, this isn’t real life; you have nothing to prove. But now I take a stand, in hopes that you command, to have my hand and move to a foreign land. So we can explore all that there is, inside of us each, the side for many decades we’ve been told is weak. Let us enjoy all the pleasures and treasures we seek.”
That was the last letter before being consumed, lurking in the dark, he met his doom. Hit from behind he fell to the ground, silence was his friend; no one heard a sound
Memories still come and go everyday, his presence a fog that will disappear I pray. I was stuck in a hole waiting for hours, for someone to find me, un-deflowered. The flashes of red and blue, swarmed my side. Thank God we found her, is she still alive? Streaks of black circled around my eyes, that night my kidnapper mysteriously died. One day, I will be free, haunted no more, by the stalker who buried me on the shore.
Tasha Geller ©copyright 2004