Rabbits

Sitting at the counter of the coffee table, she looked over and saw him sitting there in his baby blue button down dress top and beige khakis. He saw her looking at him and he winked at her.  She looked down into her coffee, black, deep and drowning, like there was no bottom.  He walks over. She glances away not wanting to be engaged in conversation with a complete stranger.  She hated people.  He kept walking. She got up from her table but before she could leave the money he said, “I know what you’ve been looking for.”  She glanced at him, remaining silent. “I have it.  Follow me.”  For some reason, unbeknown est to her, she did. She followed him. She followed him down the coffee shop, walking over the making out couples laying on the ground, under the tables, necking and holding each other. She saw the little babies inside in the bellies of the woman, she wanted to warn them what would happen if they kept doing the nonsense that she saw, but she couldn’t form the words. It didn’t matter anyways  because the man was walking down the street and stared at him in the back seeing into his body, into his being. Seeing such a bright colorful rainbow she didn’t know what to make of it. He smelled of insomnia and butter beans. He looked around at her, following slowly behind. “Quicker, now. We haven’t much time.”  She quickened her steps in the urge to find out what she so wanted. He lead her pass an abandoned warehouse, a street full of daisies, a lady outside washing herself in the kiddie pool, her wrinkled body sagging down into the red water. She felt like flying. She didn’t know what you do with herself anymore. She followed him further and further into the deep woods past the candle store, watching as he blew kisses to the wolves and pretended to shoot the bunnies, watching them drop as if the pretend bullets had really just penetrated their fragile bodies. She glanced at her watch and saw that it was 2am.  2am, she was barely breathing, being lead almost against her own will into the maze of atrocities and visions of rainbows and colorful butterflies. Finally he stopped before a bright white rock, the intensity of the sun.  He pulled out a knife and slide the sharp metal across the pallid skin of his palm, not reacting to the cut as if it didn’t hurt. This is the stuff dreams are made of, she thought to herself. He seemed to have heard her. “Give me your hand.” he ordered her in a soft whisper. She handed him her hand. In her mind, she knew that this whole thing was crazy, something was definitely wrong, but still curiosity drove her on to find out what the man had been talking about. She wanted to know what would draw her from the inside world of her mind to the outside palace of this strange mans dense reality. What would make her get up and follow a unknown for hours upon hours, not saying a word, granting his every request, doing his every order.  He cut her hand. She also, much to her surprise, didn’t react to the cut.  She felt the numbness inside of her begin to mingle away with the pain and the endorphins. He took her hand and rubbed it on the glowing rock. She watched as the blood began to consume the rock, redder and redder it got until finally she was staring at a mold of blood. The blood moved within itself, swimming and taking itself prisoner. She stared in fascination, not knowing what to do or what to expect until the man stepped, stepped, into the blood mold. She let out a small gasp as he was consumed by it all, melting, no becoming the blood mold itself. She stared for quite awhile, not believing what she was seeing.  From inside the blood mold, there came a deep voice. “Fear not, my dear child, for I am what you seek. I am what you are. I am what you want. I am your everything. Join me. Join me in this blood world that I have created for us. Come with me, my dear, and let me take you into a land of red wonder.”  She continued to stare. She realized that all she had been doing was staring for quite awhile. The sun was beginning to dawn over the horizon and she saw the blood red skies begin to appear. Again, it spoke. “Come with me; you need me. I need you. Together, we can be one.” Then suddenly the blood mold began to move, inching toward her as she remained rooted in silence to the ground, unable to speak, as usual, and unable to move. The blood mold stopped right in front of her. She averted her eyes, blushing. For what, she did not know, all she knew was that she didn’t want him, it, to see her do so. “Touch me,” came the voice from deep within.  She stood paralyzed. “Touch me, please, I need this.”  She tenderly and cautiously reached out a hand to touch the blood mold. Once she did, her whole world turned red. The skies turned a blood red, the water turned into crimson rivers and lakes, the trees began to sing, the rocks began to dance, the animals disappeared into the ground, as if quicksand had taken them under.  There was nothing, there was everything, there was dying, there was birth, there was nothing, nothing, nothing,  nothing but red!  Red was all she could see, red was all she could do! She began to cry from the intensity and suddenness of it all, and lo behold, she was crying tears of blood. Not her blood. His blood. “I have you now, we can be together, my pet.” He began to suck her, little by little into himself. First her fingers, then her hand, then her arm, then her shoulder, then her legs, until all that was left of her was a backwards bent head staring into the sea of red. In that moment, she heard the babies from the fucking mothers being born, the old lady bathing in a pool of red scream as she died, a wave of sudden ferocity cover the world. The screams of the bleeding, bloody mothers and the guilt ridden fathers filled her ears as the last trace of her body was sucked into the blood mold and she began to dissolve into the red.

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