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Thu Nov 10, 2011 11:37 am

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Two Night in 1973

Colossal electric monster worms of iron move from place to place, eating as they please and spitting as their allowed not being harmed by the harsh weather. A cold April night, two hours before midnight, and without fear nor hesitation she walks past 2nd Avenue. This, as the teardrops of the grayest and saddest clouds, up above, reach her pale skin ...and in the split of a second her body temperature slowly start to drop below ninety degree. New York City, a city of laughs, city of cries, city where as the sun rises dream began to die. City of concrete, concrete jungle where she lives, where she sleeps, city where her beauty thrives within each passing day. But tonight, in this cold rainy night, she will meet and greet, without realizing this, her own death sentence.

Her golden blond hair reached my eyes from across the street and stroked me like a ray of sunlight on a hot summer day. Her beauty took my breath away. She, and endangered species, paced quickly to her net to be safe and sound, home, away from the world, where nothing or anyone would be able to reach her. Her eyes, the color of a cloudless sky, and her lips where just two more of the things that made up her flawlessness... and that made a man like me willing to die for. And her smell, her aroma was sweet but at the same time pleasantly sour, her smell was like no other. But this is just a memory. A memory of that night she met that man who torn her in both mind and spirit, a memory where my Cattie could not have outrun her own destiny.

(Knock, Knock, Knock) “Coming!” she yelled from inside her apartment, not knowing that the one behind the door has been watching her every move for the past three weeks. (Knock Knock) “Who’s there?” She asked from behind the door hesitant to open it at this time of our. “Delivery...” she hears a man respond back. “At this time? Seriously?”She complaints. “Sorry Mam, I know it’s late, but it was the only time that it could be done.” He replies. “Ok, hold-on a minute.” She goes into her bedroom and grabs her robe so that she can welcome the man inside. She opens the door, but to her surprise he was no delivery man. He was the shadow that had been following her down the street, every night, for the past few weeks. The shadow of the man who would leave cigarette buds on her bedroom window as he watched her sleep in the middle of the night and the shadow that from now on would haunt her thoughts for as short as she may live.

He stormed into the apartment as if this was his own home, as if he knew every single corner of it, as if he was meant to be there. She dropped to the floor in all the commotion and all that she asked was for him not to hurt her... “Please, don’t hurt me.” She begged but he ignored her cries and her pleads and continued with his task. She fought. She fought with all her strength but the stranger was even stronger then her. He carried her into her bedroom and tied her arms and legs to each corner of the bed. She kicked him and quickly he grabbed her by the neck and whispered “Ssshhhhhhh...Cattie baby, you don’t have to be afraid of me. But how couldn’t she? Torn, Cattie was torn in every possible way you can imagine: emotionally, mentally, and physically... torn because then man who had just left had made of her body as he pleased. Dirty. She felt dirty and all she could do was cry in the corner of her room wrapped around a white sheet, unable to let it go as if it was the only thing that could protect her, as if her own home was no longer enough because the walls surrounding her had betrayed her.

Said to be a liar by her own family and friends she was brought to me to be diagnose. They believed she was crazy. They did not believe her. But how do you not believe your own child... your only child? How do you not believe your little princess had been used the previous night by a complete stranger? How do you mistake pain as a sing for the need of medical attention? Cattie, my patient Cattie, my victim Cattie, my lover Cattie... she walked through my office door and right then and there, from the expression on her face, I knew she recognized me. She ran out into the stair and went up to the roof of the 28 floor building, all as she screamed over and over again: “You stay away from me you monster!”I ran after her, when I finally reached her she was standing at the edge of the roof looking down into the wet pavement. “No...” I yelled “please don’t do this” I begged. Ten minutes past 7 o’clock and I realized it was another night in 1973 in which I would admire her precious beauty, only this time it would be the last time. “I’m sorry.” were the words I could make out from her lips from a distance. As if she loved me too even though I knew she was terrified of me, she despised me, as if she knew ending her life was the only choice she had left that would end her suffering as well. A tear made its way down her right cheek and right then and there I remember all her screams, all her kicks, all her cries for help. Right then and there I could see in her eyes all the pain and humiliation she had gone through. “Cattie, I’m sorry.” But sorry were just words that I did not mean because I enjoyed every single moment I’d spent with her the night before. Sorry did not cut it... my Cattie jumped and then I awoke when I knew I was never going to see her again.

“This is your fault!” I yelled into my reflection in the mirror “No, this is your fault Jones.” The mirror replied back to my surprise. “I’m going crazy...” I whispered as I sat on to the floor of the men’s bathroom “...How can you be so calm?” I asked not caring that I was talking to myself. “How can you be so paranoid? I don’t blame you... you just killed the woman you said loved.” The mirror responded. “I did not kill her!” I yelled out the top of my lungs. “Did you not? Then why did she jump in front of your very eyes?” he said. Full of anguish and rage I screamed towards the mirror and punched it so hard that it shattered into a million pieces. Knowing that within me lived an evil that reflected in every window, in every mirror, in every shining surface... I ran out of the bathroom and up the stairs, on to the roof, thinking of my Cattie, my victim Cattie, my lover cattie and how she was now dead because of me. I could not bear to know this as I looked down into the same wet pavement she did a few minutes ago. I heard his voice call out from a piece of glass buried on the surface of my skin in the hand with which I hit the mirror. There he was... my reflection.

“What in the world do you think you’re doing?” he asked desperately.

“I’m going to join her.” I whispered as I laid my hand down one last time.

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