Skip to content

Creative writing: Her Darkness

I sat in the darkness and let a lit cigarette lie stiff between my lips as I admired the wounds scarred deep within my naked skin.

Artwork by Stacy Kamencik.
Artwork by Stacy Kamencik.

A timid breeze teased a hot midnight air which soothed the burning spots where only moments ago She’d scratched and torn at my flesh.

The air felt good. The inflamed pain even more so.

The battle between us was over; sealed with a kiss amidst the sweat, the heat, the violent bliss. Yet Her Darkness was set to rise once more and drag us into war.

Smoke trembled from my mouth as I closed my eyes, bowed my head and prayed to God.

God answered my prayer, spoke to me, gently prized my chin from my chest and pressed my neck against my shoulders til my head pointed towards the air. Here I could look in His eyes and He in mine and I could see and I could feel my request granted.

Cigarette extinguished, smoke faded, the burning wounds She had carved into my skin soothed by the hot midnight air.

I closed the door behind me and the floorboards cracked and shrieked beneath my feet as I crept through the house and up the stairs.

There, She slept. Beautiful and naked except for a single small sheet so thin it revealed every graceful curve, every haunting scar, every tender movement of Her body.

She lay stiff.

And then She twitched.

Her Darkness had arrived, and once more I would try to protect Her.

She had once believed She could never be saved, yet that would not stop me from trying.

Minutes descended into hours as I lay awake beside Her, wrestling Her from each nightmare and holding Her until She fell asleep again and fell back into another.

She had once believed She could never be saved, yet here I was, still trying.

Published inUncategorized

Comments are closed.