Forbidden Love | Teen Ink

Forbidden Love

March 25, 2011
By Br0k3n_BaBy_D0LL GOLD, Madisonville, Kentucky
Br0k3n_BaBy_D0LL GOLD, Madisonville, Kentucky
10 articles 2 photos 4 comments

Favorite Quote:
Nothing strengthens authority so much as silence

- Leonardo da Vinci

I am tranquility. I used to think that I was perfect, that the world would bend to my will, I thought that I could have anything I wanted, at least I did intell I saw you, Standing by a vintage Harley with your friends. Black, un-washed, shaggy, curly hair and cat like green eyes. A leather jacket with faded blue jeans. You were wrong for me in every way, but I think that’s what made me want you.

I am chaos. I didn’t plan on anything special happening, just hangging out with some friends. A few goth looking girls lounging around our bikes. I wasn’t really interested in the run-down park, untill I caught a glimpse of you, perched on the edge of a stone water fountain. Your almost white hair trailing down your perfect, slim figure to your hips, and big blue eyes peering from beneath long lashes. A white cotton skirt showed off your long slender legs and a pink blouse showing your milk and honey skin. You were so different from the normal girls I hung out with, you were smart and fragil, but for some reason I couldn’t take my eyes off you.

I could see you looking at me. I blushed a deep rosey red and smiled a little. You walked twards me slowly as your friends drove away, girls on their backs. You got close and asked me my name.

“Irene”, I almost whispered, butterflys invading my stomach and smiles invading my face. You said your name was Seth. I don’t know if we sat in the park staring at each other for minutes, hours, or days, but the next thing I remember I was sitting on the back of your motorcycle, with my arms around your back gripping your jacket so hard my knuckles turned white, having more fun then I ever had before.

You took me back to your place, you asked how old I was. I said sixteen and you laughed a bit. You were eighteen you’d dropped out of school on the ninth grade, you said I looked older. You had a small apartment on the top floor of a dingy looking building, the kind my parents wouldn’t have let me near, the kind I used to be afraid of. Your room was dark with little furniture, but it was comfortable. We talked for hours. It was far past my curfew. You offered to take me home. We stood to walk out the door, but first you93 leaned in to kiss me. It was unexpected, it was exactly what I’d wanted, it was my first kiss, it was the best kiss, it was everything. I felt my heart beat quiken and tried to keep you from hearing the thumping escaping my chest. I looked into your green, gem stone eyes, and knew that I had fallen under your spell. Memorized, hypnotized, and in love I stumbled through my front door, my hair ragged and wind wiped from your bike and your kiss still lingering on my full lips.

My house was huge and filled with flowers; and crystals; and furniture imported from India, Asia, and Cost Erica. The humongous yard was covered in lush gardens, and statues of un-clothed and armless Greek women. My mother was asleep, so I went into my bed-room and laid my head on my fluffy pillow. My bedding was silkey and the color of a silver cloud. I changed into a flowing white nightgown that reached my ankles and made me look like a ghost, and then I slept.

The next day I went back to the park hoping you would be their, and you were. You were there waiting for me. I smiled at you. I was wearing a pair of jeans, and a soft, cream colored top. When you saw me, you kissed me lightly. You looked like you hadn’t slept, you had dark circles beneath your eyes. I walked with you hand in hand untill we came to a small café in the trees. We ate and talked about our favorite books, and music. We laughed at each others jokes, you had the most amazing laugh. That night you walked me home, I shivered in the cold so you put your jacket over my frail shoulders. I liked the way the fabric felt as it rubbed against my bare arms. You left when I got home, ducking and cutting through the yard, so my mother wouldn’t see you.

One day we went to the beach late at night. We buried our feet in the sand and splashed in the moon bathed ocean water. We built a sand castle with seashells for windows and then watched it be torn down by the waves. I was sad to see it being swallowed by the ocean, but we both knew that we the way it was supposed to be, and now we could build another. We stared at the full moon trying to make out a face. You picked me up and spun me around as I laughed. You held me in you strong hands and we danced on the beach as if it was our ball room, the crashing ocean waves our music, and the burning stars our candle light. I sat beside you, leaning against a palm tree watching the ocean roar like a dangerous lion, the shore its terrified pray.

This started to become my routine. Everyday I would get up and go to school, then come and spend the day and night with you, then you would walk me home quietly, slipping away before any one could see you. I liked the dangerous feeling I got as I snuck in the house, the adrenalin that rushed through my veins. In the time we were together I learned about how your mother had died when you were only a little boy, you never told me what happened to her. I told you that my dad had died when I was younger to. I learned to like the vibes from the screming music you listened to, while you started to enjoy my slow instrumentals. I started to stay up past my bedtime and listen to music instead of sleeping, and you started sleeping insteas of staying up and listening to music. I guess we both rubbed off on each other. I guess we both became more alike, but when to oppisit forces come together, their will always be concequences.

We walked down the twisting dirt roads at a market. You walked off to talk to a friend you just happened to see. His name was jared. I picked up some peppers and placed them in a bascket, but as I reached down a bony hand grabbed ahold of my arm. I jumped. The hand belonged to a women who wore a viel over her wrinkled face and was short and old. She wore rags and no shoes on her feet.

“your love is a mountain you wish to climb, but you will forever be forbidden”, she said in a cold, stern voice.
I didn’t know what she was talking about, I was scared and confused, but now that I look back on it I should have understood. I should have known. Maybe if I would have understood then I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you so much that I couldn’t make things right.

You came back over to me and you must have noticed that I looked a little shaken, because you put your arm over my small shoulder and whispered lets go. We left on your harley and I wore the light pink helmet you had bought for me. I loosly put my hair up, so it wouldn’t fly away in the wind. I layed my head on your back loving the warmth. You took me to an old abanndon mansion. This has to be my favorite memory of us. The roof was caving in and the light grey paint peeled from the sides. The shudderes hung loosely, prepared to fall to the dark, un-mowed lawn during the slitest breeze. We snuck through the thankfully unlocked back door, and ran through the house. We broke the arms off of porclen china dolls so they would seem more real. We threw wine glasses and crystals to the floor just to hear them shatter and watch the glass make rainbows. We ran up and down the stairs listening to them creek under our wieght, and busted the windows so we could hear the wind howel out side. We went upstairs to empty rooms and screamed and laughed, because we liked the way our voices echoed. We ran through the dirty rooms playing hide and seek like kids, I came up behind you in the dark and put my hands over your eyes, then you chased me through the house. I raided the closets and tried on old dresses and costumes, a Grecian gown, a dress made of dried flowers and leaves, I wore a shinny garment that looked like it was worn on the red carpet, and an orange kimono. You clapped as I walked out of the enormous walk-in closet like a run way model. We put on hats with bows, with pearls, with feathers. Hats that were black, green, blue, and every color you could imagine, thousands of beautiful hats. I put a pink feathery hat with a purple flower on the side on and you laughed. I trailed into a room with no furniture but a couch. You came behind me and rapped your arms around my waist in the pitch black darkness, and whispred in my ear, “I love you.” I kissed you and fell asleep on your chest as we laughed about the day, and I played with one of our broken china dolls.

The mansion became our sanctuary. We would go their everyday after I got out of school. One day we found a library in the mansion. It was covered with books, and books, and books. The way the shelves reached the ceilling was incredible. Somedays I would read a book aloud and you would sit memorized in the storie like a child. You said my voice was memorizing, you said you’d never been read to before. Some days we would take paint and draw upon the walls. Your artwork made me smile, the way you drew you lines so fine and perfect, but never quite accurate. The way you would paint my face upon the wall and change the color of one eye, or the shape of my lips, saying you couldn’t paint me the way I really looked, because you could never make anything as beautiful, of course I didn’t believe you though. Sometimes I listened to you play the guitar as I sat on your lap, and sometimes I would sing the song the wind sang, my mother had showed me how to hear its whispers. Sometimes we did a lot of things, but always we would end the night on that dusty couch that smelled of mothballs, and cheap perfume in that pitch black room, and I would talk with you and fiddle with a broken china doll untill I fell asleep.

One night we sat on the couch and you ran your fingers through my hair. You coughed, and I adjusted my self on you chest. You’d been quite all day, kind of distant. It was snowing out side. Puffy, white flakes falling to the ground and forming a blanket over the earth. It was the middle of winter, just two more days until the roads would be completely blocked off. A branch patted against the window. I could hear your heart beat and I hummed along with it, you didn’t mind. We sat their for along time.

One time we got in a fight, yelling at each other as I stormed out of the mansion, tears slipping down my cheeks. I don’t even remember what we were fighting about now that I look back on it. Maybe it was because you were looking at another girl, or because I had complained about you not letting me finish my home work, or maybe we just started yelling for no reason. The only part I really remember was when I sat in my room crying, and heard a tap on my window. When I pulled back the curtain you stood on my lawn smiling at me with bouquet of flowers in your hands. Not roses or carnations not the normal lovey dovey flowers, but a bouquet of lilies. Beautiful lilies, almost as beautiful as you.

My mother was very understanding. She never asked about my being gone, honestly I hardly think she even noticed. She paid to much attention to her flowers, and the gardens, and trying to make her pertectioin charms to ward away evil, I feel bad fore her now, knowing that none of her charms worked, because if they had worked they wouldn’t have let the god of chaos step right through the front door. My mother never spoke, she feared if she did she would off set the balance of nature or something. She was tall, and slim like me. I looked a lot like my mother. She had taught me how to hear the wind, and how to make a bird land on my hand. She had showed me how to right with quil and ink, and how to grow the most beautiful flower. She taught me to cook, and to read. She taught me to use magic and songs to heal any wound and how to spin a wheel of thread. She was amazing and extremely talented, but never did she speak, she seemed to dissapear without a trace and become parts of the air sometimes, and I wouldn’t see her for days.

One day I got out of school and you weren’t waiting for me out side. You’d been their everyday for almost a year. I walked away from the brick building and went to the place were I knew you would be. On the old couch, in the pitch black room. I knew you would be their, and you were, but something was different. You looked sad, tired, maybe you looked hurt, I couldn’t read your eyes. I sat next to you and didn’t say a word in the darkness, as I let my eyes ajust you turned to me slowly as if youd just relized I was hear. You leaned over and you kissed me suddenly. It was a soft kiss, on my cheek, it was light and your breath smelled of mint and sweet, red roses. You stood up and pulled me up with you. You held my hands tightly, so tight that it almost hurt.
“your beautiful”, you whispered. I just smiled at you and felt my cheeks blush. You ran one hand through my hair, brushing your cool fingers against my warm cheek.
“your hair‘s so soft”, you whispered to me lovingly.
“and you have beautiful eyes”, I said looking deeply into the endless pools of green.
“do you know what my name means?”, your face was inches from mine, and you held my wrists above my head against the wall.
“chaos”, I said it so fluidly that it dripped of my tounge like honey, “do you know what mine means?”
“tranquility”, you were hesitant to awnser, but when you did your voice sent electric shocks up my spine.
“and who is the mother of tranquility?”, I laughed a bit with my eyes closed, you breath hot against my face.
“peace”, you voice coated the air like mollasis, “and who is the father of chaos?” I hesitated before I awnsered, but the words tumbled from my mouth uncontrollably.
“The devil”, I’d known the answer, known you didn’t want to hear it and now my heart beat on time with yours, fast and powerful like a lions. You kissed my lips long and hard and pushed my arms again the wall, so hard that it hurt. You kissed me so long that I gasped for air.
“I love you”, you whispered one more time, and then you turned and left. Their was something in your voice like longing and helplessness. I could barley see the features of your face, but I swear I saw a scar running along you cheek. You left me that night. You left me alone in the pitch black room, with the old couch. You left me there to fall upon the sticky, old carpet scrapping my knees and cry. You left me to hear the wind play sad songs and to feel my heart shatter into pieces, just like the arms of the broken china dolls, my soul broke in half. So real, so pure. Pain so perfect and scares to deep to be seen. Memories that I saw in that china dolls eyes, memories or maybe the future, memories or just the past, I will never know what it was that I saw in her eyes, only that it stabbed me like shreds of glass and burned me like the open flames of a candle. I will only know that, the tiny china dolls mourned with me, and they refused to let me forget you.

I still came every night to the pitch black room, with the old couch, and I would wait for you. I would watch us and what we could have been in the tiny dolls eyes. Days turned to weeks, and weeks dragged on into months, but I never saw you. I tried to be proud like my mother and never speak, never cry, never scream, but words escaped my mouth like flies. It was like they had laid their eggs in my belly and I was coughing them up in the form of sound. I would stare out the window into the darkness and I chopped the hair that you had told me was so beautiful, id only looked beautiful for you. Now it hung limp in my shoulders like a dead animal. I read to the moon and sang to the stars, but even they could not fill the empty seat beside me. Always so alone, and always broken.

I sat in my apartment alone and waited for her to come through the door. Wishing I would see her face, wishing she would be waiting outside on my Harley, but she wasn’t. I didn’t ride my the motorcycle, I hated the way it felt without her on the back her hands clutching my leather jacket, and her hair whipping threw the wind. I would wander through the streets at night and hope to see her. I would get in fights in dark alleys, but never really try to win. Id throw plates at the wall, remembering the way we ran through the deserted mansion. I needed the girl I’d left alone in the dark room, with the old couch, but I knew I could never have her. I could never have her love, I would never have her, without hurting her.

I screamed one night. Waking up on the old, dusty couch. I couldn’t take it anymore. The dreams of you were to much to bear, the nightmares of you were to painful to endure. I fell to my knees and I screamed out to the god of the underworld, I called the name of Hades into the night. I clutched my chest and I begged him to do the deed that no other, but the lord of the dead, and the devil could do. I begged him to cut out my heart, to rip it from my chest, to stop the beating. I said id give anything for him to stop the pain, and he heard me call him. He heard me scream his name, and he accepted my offer. He cut open my chest with a rusty knife, and ripped the heart from my body, I saw him holding it in his hand, bloody and beating. If only I’d known what id given to him. I should have known better then to make deals with the devil. I should have known better then to trust him. Hades was a tricky man, a man of power, and a man full of hate, and when he ripped the still beating heart from my chest, he ripped the heart of my lover out with it, the heart of his own son, and he threw our hearts to the monsters of the underworld and let them feast upon our love. The dogs of Hades himself, the mangled and twisted souls of the wicked, and the insane. They ate our flesh like candy, licking blood from their fingers, they ate hoping it would bring them back, make them feel alive, but their souls were far to rotten to be brought back, not even the devil himself could repair them.

The scar on my chest was only one of many, I knew it would never go away. Hades had sworn to take my heart away and I was stupid enough to believe that he would stop the pain. There was no heart beat beneath my chest, but I still felt the unimaginable fear, and the burning that you‘d left with me. I could feel it in my breath, when I breathed, when I slept. I could feel the empty hollow pit, were my thumping heart had been. Hades did give me something though, he gave me a new dream. Know I dreamt of the rocky, ghostly gates of the underworld, and the fiery gates to his home. I dreamt of the monster dogs that had gobbled down my heart. The pain of him cutting open my chest. It wasn’t a pleasant dream, but it was better then dreaming of you. Better then dreaming of you leaving me, anything was better then dreaming of the things I couldn’t have.

I went home after Hades cut out my heart. I was tired and weak. I walked through the door to my big house and my mother sat spinning silk. When I walked through that door her thread snapped in half. She looked at me with angry eyes. I shed a tear, but her eyes seemed to say, “how can you cry if you have no heart?” she mocked me with her silence and she disgraced me for what id done. Id betrayed her. Id fallen in love with chaos, id let the devil take what was hers. She looked at the way id chopped off my hair in disgust, she looked at the thick eyeliner, and the burns on my hands from opening the gates to Hades, I couldn’t lie to her, and I couldn’t ask her for forgiveness. I never could have lived up to her, she wanted me to be like her, but I wasn’t peace, I wasn’t peaceful. I knocked a crystal bowl of a table as I left the house, the look in her eyes told me that I shouldn’t come back, that she didn’t want to be my mother any more.

I went to the room and I picked up a chin doll. It was one of the dolls that we had broken. This one has a missing eye and cracked face. She had a missing arm, that had jagged edges were it had been busted off. Her hair was black and dull in two pigtails that had become frayed and loose over the years. Her red kimono was ripping and dirty. Her little feet and dark red lips were the only things that were untouched by time. I looked into her eyes and whispered to the little doll,” will you let me see my lover?” The little china doll must have heard me, because I could see you in her porcelain eye. You were walking down the street, there was a bump in your nose like it had been broken, three scars running down your cheek like you had been scratched. You were coming back from seeing your father. When he called you to him, you never argued. You weren’t happy and you had such sad eyes. Their was a silent whole where your heart should have been. I looked away from the porcelain eye, the doll seemed to laugh at how weak I was, she seemed to smile at me with a witch like smile.

The week dragged on and one day I found some money on the side walk in a gutter. I thought it would be fun to see if any one would notice my empty chest if I went some where crowded, so I made a reservation for one at the pultra corvus. Pultra corvus is Latin for the beautiful raven. They were a very expensive restaurant that I had only been to twice. When I walked in that nigh I was amazed at what I saw. The linen table clothes, the beautiful centerpieces of white lilies that reminded me of you, the glass eyeballs hanging from the ceiling, and the strange symbols carved into the blood colored walls. The restaurant served strange foods like squid and deer, and eel. I ate well for the first time in moths and chuckled when people came close to me and gave me a funny look. I spent the all my money and left broke, just as I had been not to long before I came. I stole one of the glass eyes from the ceiling before I left, id give it to the little china doll.

I walked through the cobble stone streets alone. Under the street lamps, threw a tunnel, pass the train station, toward the mansion, ducking from the pouring rain. Hair plastered to my neck, clothes clinging to my body, knees quaking with cold under the short skirt. Leaves cracking behind me, I turn around, I scream, but there’s a hand over my mouth. I cant see the strangers face, he is only a shadow, a ruff shadow. The shadow pushes me against a brick building, scrapping my arms and face. I sob, but no-one hears, you don’t hear. There’s a towel over my face and I feel dizzy. I cant stand up, im falling. Falling, or dreaming, or maybe waking up, I don’t know. The next thing that comes is sleep. Deep, un-conscious, dreamless, sleep.

My eyes flutter open gently. I feel wet, and tired, and sore. I go to move my hair away from my face but my hands are bound behind my back. Im tied to a post looking through a dirty window. Im in the pitch black room, with the dusty couch. Only there is light. The light burns the magic from the room a drop at a time, it steels the beauty, and the mystery. I go to scream, but a cloth is in my mouth tied behind my head. My wrists burn from struggling with he rope, but I keep moving them, now they are bleeding. This was the first time I’d ever seen the pitch black room. The floor boards were warred and old. The dusty couch was a deep pinkish red, with green embroidered flowers, and the walls were green with wood borders. Their was a fire place that I had never noticed it was old and made of grey stone, coal smoldered in the left over ash as if it had just been used. The dusty window was smeared and had thick glass. It looked out to the forest, embroidered by the cast iron fence. The grass was so tall that it devoured the trees, with weeds and wild flowers. Spiky plants and poison oak layering the ground, guarding the mansion, a watch dog on command, warning the intruders to stay away, but all its howls ignored by glass bottles and empty soda cans. I let my mind wonder about the yard, imagine the very floor boards of the room arching their back and screeching at the infernal light. My day dreams were interrupted by a creaking hinges behind me. I tried to speak, but with the bitter cloth in my mouth I could only manage protested moans. A man in black, the shadow, came around so I could see him. His face was masked and his clothes covered his body. His voice was low and rich.
“he was right you are pretty”, the shadow said, I could tell he was old, “you should get to talk”, he pulled the disgusting cloth from my mouth, but I still didn’t speak. He took a hand and ran it threw my hair, his hands were hot and for some reason they reminded me of you. The shadow man was almost nice in away. He was protective, but he seemed as if he could explode at any time. I wasn’t afraid of the man, even though he had tied me to a wooden column, and let the light destroy our room. He laid a stack of books on the dusty couch and opened one to read. He read all day until the sky turned pink and purple and the sun fell behind the trees, he read until the stars woke up and the moon opened his eyes. Book after book he read, but I wished that I could hold the books in my hands, let the words drip like honey from my own lips. When he finished the stack of books he held a tin cup of water to my lips and I drank. He put a cracker in my mouth and I ate. He sat and watched me, as if I may turn to dust and disappear. He watched me sleep all night, he watched my breath escape my lips, he watched me until his eyes burned my body.

The next day he just looked at me. He stared and he stared. He watched and he watched. Then he came up and stood in front of me.
“do you know who I am”, the shadow man asked? I shook my head, refusing to speak. “I am your mother and your father, you friend and your teacher, I am your lover and your want, what am I”, he looked into my eyes and in an instant I knew. I knew what was my mother and father, and friend and teacher. I knew who could be my lover and all that I want.
“you are love”, I replied to him in my softest voice, “you are the prize that requires a sin and the eyes that seek the truth and treasure lies, you are the greatest trick and most common illusion, you are a god whose never worshipped, but always prayed to, you cant be anything else, you must be love”, I smiled at my knowledge. He looked into my eyes with a small hint of a smile, but he said not a word. “love why do you hold me hear, bound to a wooden pole and tied with thread and rope?”, I asked him.
“I bind you hear, because you have no lover, but your soul is not whole. Who holds the other half of your soul my dear?”, love looked at me with the confused eyes of an old and fragile man, eyes so pale and grey.
“oh I have a lover”, I said smiling wickedly and laughing with an earthquake, “my lover is chaos, the man who has no soul, the son of the devil and the god of the wicked, my lover is the son of Hades, the man who kills his wives and has no heart.” You looked at me wide eyes and looked out the widow at the twisting vines for a long moment before you spoke again.
“how could he love you he has no heart?” I laughed louder this time and the house shook, and thunder rumbled in the skies.
“he loves me because he has half my soul and I have half of his, he is not only chaos he is tranquility, and I am not just tranquility I am chaos, because I have no heart either.” You just looked at me and looked were my heart should beat. You didn’t understand it, and I knew why. You didn’t understand, because the god of love had never seen sorrow, the world had never seen it, love had never caused it. You pondered my explanation and you thought and you thought. You sat on the couch and waited for a long time. Eventually, you went behind me and you cut the ropes that bound my hands. You held the bleeding cuts on my wrists and the skin healed leaving only a pale scar. You snapped your fingers and turned into a dove, you seemed to bid me fare well with your eyes and then you flew away, out the open window, away from the mansion. I started to wave goodbye, but was shocked to feel my hair long again, down to my hips. I ran down the mansion stairs my weight making them groan, I ran out side into the rain, cool and light against my skin. A silky silver gown hung from a tree, a present from the god of love. I pulled it on, it fit my body perfectly, hugging my curves and kissing my skin. The fabric looked as if it was weaved by a spider and stolen from the sky. I ran barefoot through the streets, twigs scratching my feet, sliding on slippery cobble stone. My hair rapped around me like a scarf in the wind and thunder rang out through the clouds and lightning streaking the sky. People running out to their balconies to watch me in my flowing gown, twirling in the wind and laughing at the rain. I knew wear you were, I don’t know how, I just did. I ran up the apartment stairs, ignoring the metal railing. I let the rain lick my skin like a happy puppy. I threw open your door, and saw you sitting on your couch, lonely. You stood and jumped when I ran threw the door. I grabbed your hands my smile sitting proudly on my face. “I love you”, I said and hugged you “I sat alone in a dark room with no company but a doll, I let my heart be cut out by the god of the dead and was held hostage by the god of love, I made an earthquake with my laughter , and smiled at the thunder, I ran through the streets barefoot to find you, and im not letting you leave me again.” You looked like you were going to protest, but you didn’t. you leaned in and kissed me. You pushed your lips onto mine and filled my body with warmth. I rapped my fingers in your hair, your greasy, black hair. You put your hands around my waist, rubbing my lower back. You made me feel like my heart was still beating in my chest, and for a minute it was, half a heart, we both felt it, half a heart, another gift from love. I ran my fingers along the scars on your face. We fell to your couch and you whispered to me,
“I’ll never leave you.” the night drew on and you held me in your arms like you were afraid that if you let me go I would disappear. “Im not going anywhere”, I assured you in a soft voice. You loosened your grip on me a bit. You looked at my hands, at the scars.
“you went to him”, you whispered. You sounded hurt, betrayed. I looked down ashamed.
“I couldn’t stand the pain anymore”, I closed my eyes knowing I had disappointed you.
“you let him cut out you heart, and then he cut out mine”, you were so quiet that I had to struggle to ear you.
“but love gave it back to us, a half a heart that we can share”, I looked up at your face. You smiled at that thought, the idea of sharing my heart. You kissed me again on the forehead. I smiled at you brightly. “Did you miss me?” , I asked you with a laugh as you brushed your lips against my hand. You laughed, your beautiful, amazing laugh.
“no, not at all”, you said sarcastically, lips running up my arm, to my shoulder, resting on my collar bone. I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath, willing you to keep going.
We spent the night on the couch talking and talking. I read you the stories that I’d made up in my head in the times I had been bored and alone as I laid on your chest. I gazed into your eyes. I sang to the beat of the heart that was in my chest again until I fell asleep.

We woke late, around ten. We hadn’t slept well in so long. The heat of you body was better then any blanket. We ate fruit and laughed all morning. We dropped grapes into each others mouth. Then we ran through the streets of the town, waking old couples that still slept in the late afternoon. We went to the mansion and explored it for the first time in the light. We dusted the cobwebs from the ceilings and dusted the books and the shelves. You chased me through the tall grass and thorny bushes playfully, as if we were children. When you caught me you picked me up and spun me around. We pulled the weeds from the old yard and then we road your motorcycle all night with no helmets. You mowed the yard while I planted flowers and by the end of the week our mansion looked as amazing as we felt. We were happy again. We were young and beautiful and we never wanted it to end, so we decided to go see your father, to make one more deal with the devil.

This time we wanted to be immortal, to be gods, to be able to love each other forever, and your father granted us our wish. Your father had never been proud of you, but he seemed to be satisfied with what we wanted, satisfied with me. He said that he would let us live forever, if we gave life to a child. This child would be the creation of good and bad. It would be a baby that would be his eyes in the underworld, so he could see the world that he wasn’t aloud to walk on. We agreed to your fathers terms and in nine moths we had twins a boy and a girl. our daughters name was destiny, and our sons name was sorrow . We named them after the struggles we had, the pain we went through to be together, the way our lives had been before we met each other. We named them after the way our life had turned out. Your father Hades gave us one more gift, that at the age of eighteen our children would stop growing and live with us forever, unless they chose differently. Our babies were amazing, and so beautiful. The way the would lie on my chest as I lie on yours, and read to the three of you. The way you would all fall asleep to my voice memorized in the stories. The way you would play a song for us on your guitar in the mansion and I would sing along. The way our children would sleep in metal cribs, and cuddle the broken china dolls, as we kissed in the candle light of their room.

Now our children are grown and fighting battles of their own. They stay with us sometimes, and sometimes with my mother in the heavens, sometimes they spend a year or two with Hades in the underworld. Yet no matter how many days pass, the months, the years, we still love each other. More every minute. We still laugh and run, and brake things just to hear them shatter, we still dance in the rain, and you still kiss me passionately before I go to sleep in your bed. I still read to you, and we still ride your motorcycle through the streets at midnight. Our life has ups and downs but in the end chaos and tranquility stayed together, and destiny and sorrow keep our legacy. Now the world has changed, and people have forgotten about love, and Hades, and peace. Forgotten about the immortals and the gods, but even in this ever changing world, the only thing that stays the same is our love.

That’s our story, at least that’s how I remember it…

The author's comments:
im super excited about this i wrote it for school and i think itrs really good!

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This article has 1 comment.

TerraTAZz GOLD said...
on Apr. 4 2011 at 9:03 am
TerraTAZz GOLD, Sapulpa, Oklahoma
18 articles 3 photos 86 comments

Favorite Quote:
Nobody goes through life without a scar.

-carol burnett

loved it! very well written! keep writing!