It hurts more then a thousand knives peircing directly into my soul. He is dying. My Light is dying out. Iv had this same dream every night since the very day i could remember. I can see him so perfectly. This sweet misunderstood boy. I came across him on a dark night when i was coming home late from a friends house. I was more afraid of my mother than if anyone hurt me. Alone. Fourteen years old. An innocent child to many. But i fell in love that night. As soon as i came across familiar hooded hoodlum standing on a lone corner. I kept my eyes down and my guard up but i stole a glance backwards as most curious little girls do.
I looked directly into the face of the boy i had seen so many times. Only he was not a boy. He was an eighteen year old man. He looked me directly in my eyes and smiled. Perhaps i was staring? But it was strange for me. To come across the boy of my dreams. Only it is not very pleasent. You see, in these dreams, he dies. Over and over and over again. The same way. It never fails to come and invade my more sereen thoughts and escape in the cold chill that shoots up my spine.
I walk back to him on this dark and dangerious night. He is dangerous i know but i also know him. I stare strait into his hazel eyes.
"Briar," i say. "My name is Briar Woods."
He smiles. And god does it light up his pretty features. Though he peers down at me from his black hoodie i already know the exact detail of his face. he has a beauty mark under his left eye. His lips are a bright, pouty red. Theyre color is natural. He has the most beautiful almond shaped eyes. His skin not pale but not dark.
"Light. My name is Light Hart." and i am taken aback by his voice. Scratchy and rough but memerable. A voice i will dream about days from now. His mother must have had the intuition of a thousand saints because the name she has chosen for him is perfect. It fits him so well. It is funny when a person is named angel and turns out to be a demon from hell. But if his mother is a saint she is a bad one because he falls for me quickly and so do i, him. This eighteen year old and i a fourteen year old. In this age, age is not but a number but an ever changing identity.
A forbidden love of all loves.
Several nights later i am haunted by dreams of him. But they are not dreams. Nor are they nightmares. They are both. They are niether.
But then he appears on my doorstep in the middle of the night with a crisp rose in hand and an empty expression. I dont know how i knew to wake up and come to the window. He doesnt even knock, yet i know he is there. I feel his presense. And i go to him despite my now screaming instincts to stay away from the probably dangerous boy. There is only but a hint of a smile on his pretty face. Other then that it is empty.
He gives me the rose and i smile. He follows. And then we talk. Just like that. I find he is alone in this world. His parents abandoned him when he was sixteen. He never saw his senior year. A shame because he was an honors student. He is a drug addict i later find. I'v come across him many times when he is out of it. he stumbles and babbles about things of only his memeory. It is tough for me. To be so young and to care for him. I do love him. That is without a doubt in my mind. If there were only two things i knew for sure is that there is a god and that i love him with every cell in my body.
Light is homless. He has few changes of cloths. Iv spent so many allowences buying him cloths though on every account he returns them and puts the money under my pillow. For months he would not tell me where he stayed. On the streets? In a box? I had to know. But he would not speak of it. Until he came to my house in a panic. He was high. On what drug i would never know. But light, he was beautiful. And to see such an intuitive person throw such a mind away made me want to nearly cry.
He was hallucinating and freaking out. And of all places he came to me. Like most girls of my age were, i was young with too much information to deal with. I was too smart for my own good. I was in love but i was smart. It was hard to fight my intuition but it was hard to deny my love for this troubled boy. I took him into my room. Enclosed in walls clad in boy band posters and dressers decorated with old teddy bears. A Virginal room. A sactum of innocence. So young i was. He sat on my bed and hugged his knees and rocked himself. He smelled of marajuana and a mix of other illegal substances. but not to a piont where he stunk but to a piont where he became intoxicating to be around. I wanted to freak out. I was young and scared. I thought he would kill himself if i didnt get him to stop.
I hugged him crying, pleading with him to let me take care of him. Begging him to not leave. But i knew deep in my soul that he would be up and back on the streets again. He hugged me back. Held me close. Cried with me. I was finally able to get him to lye back onto my bed and calm down. He was nearly calm beside the barley noticible tremors that ran through every inch of his body. I held him so tight i wonder if he could breath. I kissed him and for a while he kissed me back. And after a while the tremors stopped but by this time i was too deep in. I was moving to fast. He pulled my shirt off and i let him without arguing. I would give him anything so long as it stopped him from going back out there. He was gentle with me. but i knew that somewhere he wasnt in his right mind. The Light i knew, The one that wasnt high but sober would never have laid with me. No matter how much my feelings were hurt. Id feel so rejected and unwanted but then he'd come back to me after maybe two weeks or so and hold me a little more closer then he normally allowed. but that was it. He'd refused me so many times.
I lusted fo him. Being in adolensence it is something that comes to you. Many people called it a stirring. When sexual urges come into play in a young persons life. It is a confusing time also. There is so much confusion when it came to him. And in that night he takes me. Being a fool i feel loved. Wanted. Every emotion tied to his simple caresses of my body. I want him more then anything. I spend this night pouring my feeling onto him. Giving him all of me as iv wanted to for so long. And from experience i will tell only the truth. It hurts at first. Its foriegn and is nothing any fantisy can compare to. it is a feeling that can only be learned from experience. It can never simply be imagined.
But that night i have the nightmare again. It will never let up. He does not know about it. I never tell him. And when i wake up in a cold panicy sweat, i am alone. And this is a feeling so impossible unbearable. The only metophore i can use is that it feels like the truest of believers being denyed into heaven by god himself. It is a feeling of confusion and rejection and impossible pain. It is like the person dearest to you has simply watched you die without sheding a single tear. But i will say no more then that. I cannot explain it anymore then that. You will simly have to imagine it yourself. Only when your imagination brings you to endless tears as i had been at the time you will get the gist of what i am saying.
And i look for him after that. I do not get pregnant as so many stories would say and i do not gain a desease. Maybe god has looked out for me? Maybe not. Later i will find that i am infertile. but years pass. The dreams continue. I am entering my senior year of high school when i see him again. The same boy who i meet in the night.
He is there on that same corner. High? Yes. He has changed. his lips have turned white. his hair less lively. Those pretty eyes bloodshot but he is the same boy. And i walk to him. Alone. He looks at me. The empty face again. No hint of a smile. i walk to him and he sees the expression on my face. The pain of so many years of a corrupt and confused child. He knows my intentions. I walk up to him quickly and as soon as he is in arm distance he flinches from me. My first thought was to hit him and push him. This sickly man with the eyes of the boy i loved. It has only been three years. but time can be a player of great strength or a relentless enemy. And my hand is high in the air preparred to strike this broken boy but i cannot. Because the sad sorrowful truth is that i see him still through the eyes of love.
"How could you do that?!" I lash out at him anyway despite the hesitation i had before. I hit him weakly on the shoulder and still he staggers back. I cannot control myself. I cannot control the pain it causes me to look in his blood-shot eyes nor can i control the anger that rushes through my long broken heart. But he accepts my strikes and does not wimper though i cause him great pain in his weak and abused body.
"how could you leave me huh? When i needed you!? I loved you so much!" Another strike." I gave you my body!," Another hit. "I gave you every last bit of my soul!" I slap him dead across the face and he fall to the ground. He lands on his knees and hands. I have forced him to the ground with my cruel fists, pounding anger, and perpetually broken heart.
"I gave you everything. I let you use me and you leave me. in my bed alone with nothing but the essence of you on my lips and you do this to me?!" My voice breaks and i drop to my knees along side him. Though i want to consoul his pain i cannot compose my self. There is to much. Too much anger. Too much pride. I will not hit him again. I get up. But i do want him to know what a broken heart feels like. I cannot stop the words from sliping with the air between my lips.
"I hope you kill yourself." And like that the vision fades. I sit here again on his grave as i have done so many times. I always sit on his grave. Read his head stone. Think. This is the only place i can remember it with perfect clarity. In all other settings the memory is imperfect. Blurry. Wrong. because in so many other places my mind protects itself from the pain. Here, it cannot.
It hurts more then a thousand knives peircing directly into my soul. He is dying. My Light is dying out. i had the dream as soon as i left him on his lone street corner. I go home and sleep with anger, love, pian and fear in my heart and i awake with cold sweat and clammy palms. I rush out in my pajama's to find him. And i see him. In an alley not far from his street corner. He is dying. Light is dying. I hold him close in my arms. It is the dream iv had so many times. But it is no longer a dream. he says my name.
"Briar..." He trails of. His eyes are vacant and stain. his body covered in line shaped scars that were the only heaven to the hell of his own. I have never been in a hell more worse then in that moment. And for the rest of my life i have to live with this memory of hell. unlike heaven, you always remember hell.
"I have always loved you." He says. These words changing nothing.
I actually look forward to dying. I anticipate going to hell. I will. I know this for sure. Iv told the only man iv ever loved to kill himself and thats what he did. He over dosed. He killed himself. And to add more fire to my hell, i found his only belongings in that very alley. Nearly a thousand love letters he has failed to send me in the last three years. One for each day of our time apart. They said things that explianed to me questions id thought id walk to the end of the earth to recieve an answer to. He didnt want to corrupt me. He took it hard when he found himslef lying next to me the morning after we made love.
He never wanted to invade my young and innocent life. So he hid from me. He didnt want me to ever know of him. He wanted the best for us. For me. Beside the love letters, there were at least nine hundred dead roses, some of them just dryed up stems that he didnt send me along with the love letters. And three journals. one for each year. Iv read them over and over and over again. they tell his life story all the way up until the day he died. He wrote a suicide note. i will note read what it says. I have not read it since the first time i had set eyes on it though i know each word by heart. And to put the icing on my cake of tortue, Light cut himself. Everyday with a razor sice the day we met. I Ended him. And therfore, i should burn in hell for my eternal afterlife.
His grave reads,
Hear lies.
Light Angel Hart
1889-2010
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