whoa wicked
My mind often wanders to the depths where I hide all that is bad and inevitable, where I don’t feel like facing. Thought processes and irrationality alike strike like little pinpricks of pain inside my head. I try to focus on other aspects in my life, though, to ease the pain of my overwhelming ability to overthink and analyze.
Instead, I deliberate on how we all live. Myself? Careless and inattentive. Brash and egocentric. Latterly, I sought ways to repair the fragmented shards of my disposition. I strained to mend noxiousness, but in my pursuit of justifiable morality, I found something wholly mystifying. I saw something just a tad eccentric. I found amity in another being.
Elegant and poised in her day-to-day endeavors, she was raw with unwavering passion. With her well-founded awareness, she crippled individuals in her wake. Murky ringlets hung from her crown like the willow wood plaited into improvised wattle fencing around her now-abundant garden. Ashen gray eyes flickered with interminable absurdity as if existence curved to her will and she acknowledged it. Her drollness, though, undoubtedly, left you with a soft curve of the lips. My encounter with her made me inquisitive about my absolute reality.
Presently, I have composed my contemplations for what I aim to do. Hankering for something to bring a level of tranquility to my mental strain, I shuddered in trepidation. Despite my disinclination, this was obligatory, or so I assured myself. Without further tentativeness, I thrust the doors open.
The room was enveloped in a subdued silence. Disconsolate eyes flicked over my facade with little prudence or reservation. My own evaded the sole pair that lingered with antagonism. With indefatigable strides, I aimed for the main intent of my formal attendance, but was ceased unceremoniously by a hand to my thorax.
“Just who the fuck do you think you are? You know you have no right to show your fucking face here.” Poison oozed from his words like venom from an angry serpent. Barely restrained fury burned from his touch. My body held rigid. “You gonna say something, huh?”
“Tom.” Another man whispered harshly. “Sit your ass down. Have some respect, man. This is not the time for this bullshit. Let the man pay his respect to the deceased.”
Tom sent a swift, narrowing glance at the doddering man. “No chance in hell.” Shrewd eyes aimed at mine. “This man killed my sister!” Spittle was propelled ubiquitously.
The dejected older man began to speak up, “Now, son-”
“No!” Tom’s voice rose. “I know he did it! I don’t know how! The cops got it all wrong; I just know it. I know this fucker killed her! Get the fuck out, you sick bastard!” A hard, shift shove was delivered to my shoulders as two brisk gentlemen detached the indignant. Tom puffed out his chest.
A different, gruff voice spoke out this time, “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. This family is in mourning; you are causing a disturbance by being here. I have been asked to escort you out of this private service.”
With masked exuberance, I leaned into Tom’s ear in passing, “She lacked a heart long before I cut her open.”
