MySpace a place for friends

untitled by nick gebhart

Part 1: Monologue Of An Increasingly Diseased Mind…
Tomorrow was to be a magnificent day, of that I am sure.
Remember... whichever path you take, that path was destined to be taken. Your subconscious allowed you to execute the said path, therefore it was meant to be executed, so execute it!
I have not seen sweet Clare for the better half of a year. Although she has pained me to the point in which my only catharsis was bloodletting, unbeknownst to her, she is still precious. No love is sweeter than the one I share with her.
It is seldom a casual love. We are as siblings. Quite to the point, I saved her life, as she did mine. Because of this, she is a goddess in my mind. But she may never know my true passion, for she is not entirely mine. A good friend by the name of Anthony is the one who shares a casual love with my dear Clare. Yet can such a casual love reach consummation in only the ingress of the very first moments? Lechery!! Lechery!! I wouldn't stand for it if it were not my dear Clare, and Anthony, who is quite the good fellow. Surely, I am devastated vehemently by her deflowering, but is it not asinine to dwell on such a silly thing? Yet I continue to dwell on her ignorance. Every advancement of comfort... evaded. She is now lost to my cause.
But all I must focus on now is tomorrow. Tomorrow is all that matters, for I'll see her again. I long to witness her warm and loving embrace again, and share with her a kiss that tastes sweeter than the sweetest nectars. Such a deprived soul as mine, how could I not anxiously await any form of love or attention, especially from Her?

Part 2: Dirge For A Lucid Morning
Awakening, Damien Blythe wiped away the tears that spilled out from the nightmares of the yester-hour. It was such an amazing reality that he was to be reunited with Her, he could not think clearly. As a matter of fact, his mind wasn't clear at all. He questioned whether today was too good to be true, but instead he concluded that today was too true to be good. It was as if this was still a dream and he wasn't really there. This mystery was quickly discarded as he started anticipating today's events. Finally... his dark soul had awaited long enough for due nourishment. He completely forgot of the horrible pain she caused unknowingly, but this remained as a spark in the back of his mind.
Having gotten ready in a rush, he dazily walked back into his bedroom to retrieve an important item. He opened the drawer of his nightstand and collected a penknife. The action of retrieving this item was subconscious, causing ignorance of the fact he even had it. He placed it in his back pocket. The catalyst for this subconscious action was this: quite compulsively, he never left home without it. A handy tool it was, other than a lighter which was doused by traveling through a washing machine. Such a noise as a solid object going through a drying cycle was not unlike the chaos in his mind. The day became less and less clear and it seemed more an more like a dream. But he was nevertheless caught in this dream with great rapture.
As he situated himself in his vehicle, his heart grew heavier and heavier in advent. How he longed to see her again... oh, how he longed... it was only a few moments away. Only a few moments…

Part 3: Requiem For A Moment
He approached the township of his beloved Clare, and nearly drunk with ambition, he passed a few red streetlights. For the scarlet color only reminded him of Her... the blood-red essence of his passion. As the proximity between these two souls closed in faster and faster, he suddenly became callous to emotion. Utterly numb to the delight in his heart. The day became a pure dream…

The day became a pure dream…
The day became a pure dream.................

In reaching the residence of his darling, he began to shake slightly. Every nerve was shaking for the ultimate catharsis, the day in which every bout of catatonia and melancholy would be justified. Every somber night drowning in tears purged by the very person who was about to absorb them... justified. He could just imagine her silky hair that was a celestial contrast of auburn and bright ebony…
He walked up to the front door, every second a sluggish and infinitesimal moment that seemed longer than a year... at last he had arrived. The door slowly opened, and thus he became once again exposed to her beauty. He took in her gentle yet somehow vitriolic smile, and followed her to her bedroom.
Another smile was exchanged. The room was a soothing collaboration of red and black.
As he was noticing the wonderful contrast of colors, an embrace came upon him.
Such a warm embrace…
Then he began to shake again, every nerve emitting a deft lamentation. As he embraced her with warm affection and a tight hold, his arm wandered idly to his pocket. Shaking with more frequency than ever before, his arm idly returned to the back of the dame in which he so lovingly held.
He began to smile brightly, with a faint hint of insanity. A quick flick of a switch, and a deep, powerful stroke across the back of her neck caused her to breathe her last breath, sounding just as panicked as the day he saved her from a similar destiny. He felt the warm blood pour over his hands, like a sweet sweet amphetamine that soothed him to his ultimate catharsis.
He stared gently into her eyes that turned a vapid shade of gray, as every last bit of life drained from her precious body... he then clasped her lifeless hand around the penknife and with a graceful stroke he joined her in this eternal matrimony of death.
Such a cold embrace…




THE END.