-The Wild Flee-
She smacks me because she can’t see him. He doesn’t like her. He runs. I cry for him.
“Stay!” I scream. “Don’t you dare leave me! They’ll kill me! I swear to you they’ll kill me! You’ll be sorry! Sorry when you see my rotting corpse, you filthy little fuckhead!” She pushes me to the wall and has a knife to my throat.
“There is no one there,” she says through her teeth. “No one. Do you hear me?” I nod slowly. She brings the knife down. Pieces of her dark brown hair are in her face. There’s a green pepper on the cutting board. My face is red; more with fury than the palm of a frightened mother’s hand.
He doesn’t care? He’s never left when I needed him. Oh, and I needed him so bad then. Why, he could have taken the knife and stabbed her so many times… But what if he ran then and I’d be the only suspect? That rotten little prick would have used my very own fingerprints and wiped the blood on me when he finished! Lucky for the little coward he ran before I could get my hands on him! I could grab that knife and track him down before he got two blocks. I’d saw his fucking legs right off his goddamn yellow-bellied body then use them to beat the ever loving shit out of him. That’d teach him a thing or two. Teach him to run out on a battle.
The woman. She’s saying something. Pills. Pills, I don’t want to take pills. They take me to hell. The devil himself dissolves in my throat and takes me over. He makes me say things and do things that really are perverted and vile and the man and the woman only smile and say, well, that’s much better. He straps me down, squirming in my very skin. He staples my mouth, stakes my spine, knits my hands, and laces my mind.
No pills. I’m wild; I’m supposed to be wild. The wild hunt, the wild stalk, the wild… flee.
“You know why you don’t see anyone, right?” When the evil is already in me, it makes me answer that no one is there. It makes me lie. The woman is handing a glass of water to me. Pill is next.
My eyes dart to the door. That scoundrel got away. I’d hold that pill beneath my tongue and tear through that door and down the street and when I find him I’ll claw his Godforsaken eyes out and shove the hellhounds down his throat.
The woman squeezes my chin and looks into my eyes.
“Why is no on there?” she persists. My eyes darken as I tear them from hers, towards the open door.
“’Cause he got away.”