Anna and Alexis and The Triggering Man

[Dame Renaissance]

I'm a wolf. We're a werewolf. But she hides me on this shore. She protects me and hides me with shame. She hides the beautiful beast and terror that i am. But when she's alone. When we're alone. Such terrible things can happen. But I need these things. I know she needs them too. If she were to leave me i would no longer exist.
I'll sit on my shore and tell you what we've seen together.
Her mother was a teenager, and still is. She drinks alot, she takes drugs alot. Anna sees her mother's beast. But she does not feel for it, oh no. It hurt her too bad. She remembers banging her fists against the door of the room her mother's friend locked her in when she was three. SHe remembers her tears, her screams, her sore toes from kicking wrong; she remembers how her mother and her friend were laughing histerically from behind the door. She remembers their pupils from across the room while she sat in the corner all day, not being spoken to or feed. They pooled liquid dirt in their whites.
She remembers being held down, being screamed at by her mother, being told she would let her up if she asked nicely, if she would stop crying, stop hyperventilating, stop trying to push her off. She remembers how this was as close as she ever was with her.
She remembers being force fed the food she hated, until she threw up, then being made to eat more, and to have cold baths because of being sick.
She remembers waiting at home, alone, until three and four in the morning, worrie sick that her mother was never coming back. And on school nights, no less.
She remembers learning to cook too young to feed herself. To feed her morther's hangovers from the weekend binge.
She remembers her brother having sex with her, touching her in front of his friends, them all laughing as she cried and screamed.
He turned in to a good man, he was young and she thinks he's forgotten, or that he hopes she was too young to remember. But she loves him still, even when he acts like an ass.
She remembers the man who came in to her cubical at school when she was 5, how he dropped his pants. How he could have done so much more.
She remembers the bullies, at school and at home. The insults for being who she wanted to be, rather than what she was told to be.
She rememberspretending to want to go to university, when really she wanted to be a writer.
She remembers how her mother laughed in her face when she told her.
She remembers giving up on her grades, she would prove her wrong, all she would do is write.
She remembers the boyfriends she didn't really care for, how they must not have really cared either because they didn't notice her scars.
She let me out a lot then. Out on them, out on herself. It was silly of me. I've dressed her entire body. There is no piece of flesh she can't cover up, even on the hot days.
She remembers ther bad boyfriend that played with her mind.
The friends who pretended not to see what was happening.
The family who never even noticed.
Now she's left that world. She only has me. She has people who try to hold on, but there is only so much ledge. And she'll step on their fingers if they try to pull themselves up.
She screams in her head because she can't take the loneliness. Then she screams because she can't stand the company.
She met a boy a year ago, just like her. But he didn't see his pain, he didn't see what he was doing as self-destruction. But she could see it, I could see it. So she suffered with him, quite well, for four days. Four great days. And paid for it with a lot of pain. She relapsed, so to speak.
He's gone now, but she's waiting for him to come back. She needs to warn him about himself. Then she needs to run away because he's a triggering man. The Triggering Man. But so beautiful. He told stories so well, they could just sit together, go for a walk arm in arm. They both hated onions. They had both been hurt by the same person. Both socially masochistic. She could see his pain and for once she wanted to say everything, when she would barely ever said two words to anyone. She would have been good for him. They both believed in one anothers' dreams. They were both so enthusaistic about supporting each other. But neither relised they had become lovers. So they said goodbye and walked away.

Now she's stuck in my world. Jobless, no human contact - not deserving human contact. She dreams of Alaska and the stories that come to her, crying to be told, and of someone who can cling onto that ledge even with her shoe on their fingers.

[Warmsoul/Jeanie13]

((((((((((((((((( Dame Renaissance ))))))))))))))))))))

With tears, I send a warm hug your way. Thanks for sharing.

Warmie