Unforgiven
Part 4
By Heather
Think I, Think I'm unforgiven to this world
Think I, Think I'm unforgiven to this world
Think I'm Unforgiven*
Michelle
I wake up from one of the deepest sleeps I think I have
ever had. I had been having a
beautiful dream…Danny and I were at our new home at Laurel Falls.
He was pulling me down on our new bed, our new, beautiful comforter, and
had begun kissing me…so deeply…so sweetly…his words of love murmuring my
ear. He had slowly removed my
clothes, then his, bring his body closer to mine, almost uniting, but staying
far enough away, just enough, to drive me crazy.
His caresses had been making me hotter and hotter, his words seducing me
deeper and deeper.
It was a dream I had not wanted to wake up from.
I think of trying to go back to sleep, to finish my lovely dream, but I
know sleep will not come again.
I push back the dark gray covers and start to roll over,
reaching for Danny. I feel myself
toppling and I glance around…and all I see are bars. All I see are tows and rows of gray, condemning bars that
keep screaming my crimes at me. Over
and over again, they scream the same things at me.
You killed Mick…you killed Ben…you killed Mick…Mick…Ben…you killed
them both!
The voices close in on me; the bars get larger and larger,
looming over my head, threatening to crush my frail body.
I pull the dark, gray covers closer to my chin, in a childish attempt to
ward off the demon bars. But the
won’t go away, they won’t stop screaming!
You killed Mick…you killed Ben…you killed
Mick…Mick…Ben…you killed them both!!!
Terror consumes my body.
I feel my spine grow weaker, my stomach loops into a million knots.
I feel the bile rise in my throat as I hoarsely scream out.
Noooo!!
I didn’t kill Ben! I didn’t mean to kill Mick!!
Noooo!
I awake sobbing, crying out for my mother, my father, for
Danny, for anyone who will take the bad voices away. I keep having this dream, almost every night since I was
granted bail…all those weeks ago. It’s
always the same. But Danny
was always here to comfort me and love me.
I can tell he’s not here now. I wipe my eyes in a vain attempt to push the bad dreams, the
demons, the tears, the fears, away. I
push to hard and see stars. My head
throbs. The saltiness of myself
bothers me and I rise to go to the bathroom to wash my face.
I glance at the clock as I pass…1:15 am.
It’s been almost 9 hours since Danny ran out of here.
I flick on the bathroom light and look in the mirror.
My haggard, tired face stares back at me, almost scaring me because for
the briefest moment I had not recognized myself.
I grab a towel and soak it in cold water.
I bring the dripping cloth to my eyes and just press it close, holding it
against my hot flesh. The coolness soothes me, for just a moment, then my fears and
worries crash down on me again.
I lay the towel down on the sink and walk back into our
room. Picking up the phone, I call
the only person I know to call.
Ray
Step inside the light and see the fear of God burn
inside of me
The gold was put to flame to kill to burn to mold it's purity*
As a man of God and the cloth, I’m supposed to know how
to deal with these kinds of things. I’ve
been trained, hour after endless hour, on how to council people on a wide range
of problems. I’ve dealt with
troubled teens, troubled couples, troubled men and women. I’ve dealt with lies, deceit, adultery, drugs…you name
it, I’ve been confronted with it.
As a Santos, I have always known how to deal with these
kinds of things. You deal with it
“The Santos Way”. It’s the
way most familiar to me, the way I was raised to be, the way I was trained…I
think I even know better than Danny…what we should do.
But this is different somehow…it’s too close to home.
It’s too personal. I see the pain Danny is in and just like I always am, I’m
torn. I’m torn between the life I
know now…and the old life, the life I remember.
The one that is always waiting…at the edge of my dreams.
I want to reach out and help him, but I don’t know how.
I just don’t know how.
When Michelle called…the only thing I knew to tell her
was that Danny was safe and with me. I
couldn’t tell her the rest. That
her life is possibly about to crumble into her lap, shattered into a million
tiny pieces. That she’s powerless
to stop it.
At least I hope I put her mind to rest, at least for
tonight.
God help us all.
Danny
Took a chance at deceiving myself
To share in the consequence of lies
Childish with my reasoning and pride
Godless to the extent that I died*
Michelle called. I felt kinda
guilty for not calling her myself, to let her know I was okay.
Hell, it would have been a lie, but who hasn’t done that before?
My whole life seems like a lie.
I guess I just don’t know what to say to her.
I just feel so damn confused. Everything I believed, everything I held dear, was a lie?
Was my love for her real? Was
her love real? Is anything in this damn world for real?
Ray looks over at me, his eyes are sad.
His hands are clasped together. I
guess he’s praying. He says that
we really should go talk to Michelle about this, she was there, she knows, she
has a right to know about this.
Ray still stubbornly hopes that the letter is a lie.
I wish I could share his optimism. I
know it’s not a lie, somehow I think I’ve always known.
My head is starting to throb. All this thinking…and yeah, drinking, but only a little, is
starting to do me in.
I stand and agree, pushing my hands to my temples, hoping
to squeeze out all the dark, sadistic thoughts. I agree to go, even though I don’t want to go over there, I
don’t want to see her, not yet…I don’t think I’m ready. I’m not prepared for the emotions that are raging thru me
right now. I’m afraid of how I
will react to her.
*Unforgiven, by Creed, on the album My Own Prison