Flash Fiction: Window Glass
(originally from April 2008)
The rain pelts the window glass, but all I can see is you. You stand in front of it, fastening your shirt and blocking out the view. The cold white light illuminates the deadly smirk on your face, and shines in the depths of your eyes; cold orbs that have forgotten me already.
You turn away and walk out the door. You hurry to your car and leave me on the floor like a broken doll, my clothes removed by the unkind hands of my new owner. Why is it that a child’s first game is to strip their newest toy naked? Does it start even at that tender age, the desire to take everything away, to see what lies underneath and assert their dominance?
I climb slowly to my knees. Now I can see the muddy rain splashing on the glass. Large drops wash over the roof and bring down the dirt, leaving filthy streaks. The rain is just like you; something beautiful and pure that ruins as it walks by. Something I thought I wanted that has left behind its sick pollution. Something that should have been good but wasn’t, betraying the very hearts that longed for it.
My skin is pale and the blue veins run beneath it like slithering snakes. I can see each one as the blood courses through my body, keeping me alive. I suddenly want to end it all but am too afraid. I lack the courage to cut into that pale skin, to set the writhing serpents free and watch their crimson tears leak onto the carpet, like fallen rose petals. I am too afraid to live, but too afraid to die. A broken doll abandoned by her new master.
As I stare at my skin I can see your fingerprints, dark smudges left behind in colors of blue and black. Tender spots of pain, the marks to prove where you have been. I long to wash them away and cleanse myself of your lingering scent. And so, though it hurts, I crawl to the door and out into the rain. The drops land on my body like cold slices of reality. They shock every place they touch, like a hurtful lover. The water runs over me, and I hold my arms out, begging to be clean. But the rain is just as dirty as I am, and instead of washing away your touch it leaves its little trails on my flesh, streaking me like the window glass.
That is what I am, a dirty pane of glass that anyone can see through should they try, but no one does. No eyes have ever tried to see what lay on the other side, only used me to admire their own reflections. And still I hold my brittle smile and I show them what they want to see while praying that they never notice the cracks slowly spreading across my silver surface. Tiny crevices that grow larger with each passing year until one day I’ll shatter into pieces at their feet, no longer useful.
The thunder rumbles and I lay on the ground, my body numb from cold and pain, but I know that there is no end for me. Tomorrow it will be the same and then tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. Each day racing onwards while another sliver of my soul dies, leaving me empty and alone, until sweet oblivion finds me and I finally break; nothing left behind but shiny shards. And then you’ll finally be forced to look past yourself and into the dark room beyond, into the depths that were so long hidden behind what you wanted to see, and then, only then, will you finally see me.
I dunno. Nothing autobiographical here or anything. Just some fun.
Fav song of the moment – “Hell” – Disturbed