Bluehound
07-17-2011, 12:01 PM
I wondered later if I should have taken her heart. After all it was probably Lilly’s love that I really wanted. But instead I have her brain and that’s the part that contains who we truly are. All of the memories and experiences that go into making up a whole being. I ponder if Lilly’s reminiscences of me are still in there, caught forever like a time capsule. All of our flirtations and kisses? I hope so because sometimes I doubt my own recollection of those events.
I keep Lilly’s brain in a bag, in a velvet covered box, under my bed. I like to take it out sometimes, to caress the ridges and bumps, formaldehyde is her perfume.
But, achingly, I still crave love.
Tessa is a very sweet girl who works at the library and I think she likes me. She always seems pleased to see me anyway and has a very beautiful face. I have begun to wonder if her heart is pretty too. How it would look nestled in a bag next to Lilly’s brain?
I can imagine touching them both at the same time. One smooth and red, the other pale and ridged. The idea excites me.
We are on our fourth date today but I don’t think she knows it, she continues to put away books and help people – though she does keep smiling at me every time she passes. In the end, the thought of her heart pounding against her ribcage becomes too much, so I rush home and spend the evening practicing.
Tonight will be the night - I’ve decided I cannot wait any longer.
It’s late when I wake up fully clothed on the bed and very dark outside. I find my way to Tessa’s home; it is close by and very easy to get to her. I place my hand on her chest feeling the rhythm there. It’s at first sluggish and sleepy, then speeding as she begins to wake. Before she has fully stirred I use the chloroform to send her back to delicious dreams, I would hate to see pain or fear in her eyes.
As she sinks back down she smiles at me again. She wants to be with us.
It is a messy job but acting as quickly as possible, I take my prize.
I’m home again and finally feel whole. My face is wet with tears and formaldehyde as I pray that we will be like this always, our love and memories frozen.
Finally, I drift into a contented sleep, while Tessa’s heart cools against Lilly’s cold brain.
Morning light slices the curtains and hearing my landlady calling me from the kitchen, I place my treasures gently back under the bed.
I sit down at the table as she plonks the ritual bowl of cereals in front of me, next to the morning newspaper which has already arrived.
“There’s been another one of those murders “ she announces, as if I could have missed the screaming headline “two beautiful girls now and both of them... mutilated.”
She whispers the last part as though it were a swear word.
“Oh? “ I reply as I pick up a spoon and notice my distorted reflection in it.
“The one last night was not far from here, what if they come after me next?” I catch a hint of excitement in the expressed fear.
“Don’t worry” I say as I look at her rounded middle aged frame, without a hint of art or beauty to it, ” I don’t think there is much chance of that.”
“Why would someone do it, kill those girls, just for body parts?” She asks.
I twirl the gleaming spoon from side to side and watch my dark brow as it crinkles in thought. “Why?” Some part of me has asked that before, but it is a small part alone in the dark. I can feel it stiring now, telling me to "Look, look at yourself . See what you have become."
Hurriedly I plunge the spoon into the bowl – dispelling both the image and the question.
“I couldn’t say” I answer with my best smile “Any chance of some eggs this morning?”
I keep Lilly’s brain in a bag, in a velvet covered box, under my bed. I like to take it out sometimes, to caress the ridges and bumps, formaldehyde is her perfume.
But, achingly, I still crave love.
Tessa is a very sweet girl who works at the library and I think she likes me. She always seems pleased to see me anyway and has a very beautiful face. I have begun to wonder if her heart is pretty too. How it would look nestled in a bag next to Lilly’s brain?
I can imagine touching them both at the same time. One smooth and red, the other pale and ridged. The idea excites me.
We are on our fourth date today but I don’t think she knows it, she continues to put away books and help people – though she does keep smiling at me every time she passes. In the end, the thought of her heart pounding against her ribcage becomes too much, so I rush home and spend the evening practicing.
Tonight will be the night - I’ve decided I cannot wait any longer.
It’s late when I wake up fully clothed on the bed and very dark outside. I find my way to Tessa’s home; it is close by and very easy to get to her. I place my hand on her chest feeling the rhythm there. It’s at first sluggish and sleepy, then speeding as she begins to wake. Before she has fully stirred I use the chloroform to send her back to delicious dreams, I would hate to see pain or fear in her eyes.
As she sinks back down she smiles at me again. She wants to be with us.
It is a messy job but acting as quickly as possible, I take my prize.
I’m home again and finally feel whole. My face is wet with tears and formaldehyde as I pray that we will be like this always, our love and memories frozen.
Finally, I drift into a contented sleep, while Tessa’s heart cools against Lilly’s cold brain.
Morning light slices the curtains and hearing my landlady calling me from the kitchen, I place my treasures gently back under the bed.
I sit down at the table as she plonks the ritual bowl of cereals in front of me, next to the morning newspaper which has already arrived.
“There’s been another one of those murders “ she announces, as if I could have missed the screaming headline “two beautiful girls now and both of them... mutilated.”
She whispers the last part as though it were a swear word.
“Oh? “ I reply as I pick up a spoon and notice my distorted reflection in it.
“The one last night was not far from here, what if they come after me next?” I catch a hint of excitement in the expressed fear.
“Don’t worry” I say as I look at her rounded middle aged frame, without a hint of art or beauty to it, ” I don’t think there is much chance of that.”
“Why would someone do it, kill those girls, just for body parts?” She asks.
I twirl the gleaming spoon from side to side and watch my dark brow as it crinkles in thought. “Why?” Some part of me has asked that before, but it is a small part alone in the dark. I can feel it stiring now, telling me to "Look, look at yourself . See what you have become."
Hurriedly I plunge the spoon into the bowl – dispelling both the image and the question.
“I couldn’t say” I answer with my best smile “Any chance of some eggs this morning?”