Black Heart - Enter the Madwoman

  “What do you see?”
    “I'm falling… the sky is black and the moon is red. It's beautiful. There's no ground… I'm just falling into nothing. I don't feel scared, I actually feel strangely free. The wind is rushing through my hair; my eyes… my face… my arms… my legs… my body itself.. I can't feel them; but I can see. Wait… I'm starting to see ground.”
    "What does the ground look like?"
    "It's… brown… and… watery? It looks like… tea? An ocean of tea?"
    "Are you falling towards the ocean?"
    "Yes. Yes I am. Wait… something's changing… I'm… I'm standing… in a park… it's noise and there are people all about: a protest. My mother and my father are standing next to me… shouting… arguing against something… not to themselves… they don't even notice each other... Oh god!"
    "What's wrong?"
    "People in black are coming! They're taking them away! Mother, father! Don't leave me!"
    Suddenly, the young, tall and slender woman opened her watery pale blue eyes. Her breathing was ragged and her heart was frantic; but luckily she was back in reality; back in her therapy. She saw the worried eyes and the gentle smile of her therapist. She began to take deep calm breaths and she relaxed back in the armchair.
    "Loki?" asked the therapist, "were you thinking about that protest?"
    Loki looked down at the oak ground; her shaggy, neck-length, gingery hair veiled her creamy white slender face. She could feel streams of tears trickle down her face, onto her long and slender black jeaned legs. She held herself with her long and thin creamy-white arms. She began to weep -- she was damaged from the past.
    "Loki," said the therapist. "You've got to let that go -- it did not happen."
    "I know what happened!" protested Loki, "my parents were taken away. This happened a year ago! I was eighteen and this was in the Summer! This happened at Victoria park!" She stood up from her seat; tears still running down her face. "I'm not going mad! I know what happened! Why can't you believe me?"
    The therapist sighed. "You're making things up in your head. Your parents could have left you and your mind couldn't have comprehended it. Thus altering your memories to give you comfort."
    "My parents would never leave me!" snarled Loki. "Not my mother, and certainly not my father! They wouldn't leave me, nor my brother!"
    "Loki," said the therapist. "You're stressing out your mind. Please calm down and accept the reality of the situation."
    "I don't see why I'm even here if you won't believe me!" Loki wiped the sorrowful tears from her eyes. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be on my leave!" She began to walk out of the room in a fit of rage. She violently opened the dark oak door, and she slammed it behind her with a heart of anger. She stormed out of the accursed place, onto the dark and looming streets of the city. Grey clouds were swirling above: a storm was coming, two storms in fact. One literal and one emotional.
    Loki put her black hoodie up on her head of gingery hair; still enraged and weeping. She hated it when people told her that she was not right, probably one of the great reasons why she hated people.
    Her heart felt like it was ripped apart -- torn in two halves. Her therapist would always tell her that she was wrong, that she was “making it up.” Loki never attended a full session, not once in a year. She would always storm off; sometimes even claiming she had someplace to be.
    Loki was never known for fits of rage. In fact she was known for being the happy-go-lucky kind of crazy girl that would be seen outside at the crack of dawn wearing nothing but a horse mask and a leather suit while her friends recorded her dancing in the middle of the streets. She was always the friend who tried to make people happy, who was the shoulder to cry on, who was the person for a warm hug; but ever since the “mysterious” disappearance of her parents, she had been different (as you will get to see in this damnable story.)
    She proceeded down the streets; and she felt droplets of rain tapping against herself. It tickled the tip of her nose and it poked her hoodie-covered body. She was not in the mood for rain, nor was she in the mood for company. She kept her head bowed; keeping her gingery hair and her dark hood veiling her angered face. She tried to stop herself from crying, but it made her choked up and it made the cry flow like a river. Some people glanced and glared at her; but they went on their own businesses.
    Loki walked on, crying and choking up. She felt a gagging sensation in the back of her throat and a needle drive through her heart. The needle made her heart quicken and cry as well. She still walked on, trying to make herself stop. The rain was pouring buckets; the people began to disappear off of the streets, or they began to shroud themselves with umbrellas.
    Loki soon made her way to the stone steps of an apartment building: only five stories high and it was constructed with grey bricks, and it looked old, but it still looked strong and livable. She still cried her eyes out; it made them sore. She kept them squinted, barely seeing what was in front of herself. She sat down on the cold and wet step and she hid her face underneath her hands. She began to take deep and calming breaths, trying to slow her heart down, and to stop her eyes from leaking.
    The rain was pouring even harder; it drenched Loki's dark clothes and it made her gingery hair soak underneath her hood. She began to calm down. Her crying was washed out by the sound of the rain slapping the concrete floor. She took a deep breath; and she made her way into the apartment.
    The inside was dry; but Loki was still soaked with the rain, and it trickled off of her slender body. Nonetheless, she made her way towards the pale, dry stairwell. She walked up it; making a squishing sound each time she advanced up the steps with her black sneakers. She shivered and she shaked in her dark clothes, the water was clawing up her creamy skin and it made her cold as winter.
    She made her way up to the fourth floor of the building, where she found a long, beige hallway with dark green carpets. She kept her arms close to herself and she still shivered in her hoodie and her jeans. She slowly crawled down to the second door on the left; she leaned in and she turned the door open. She slowly crept into the room -- it was warm, and it made Loki feel safe: it was home, it was a sanctuary.
    She unzipped her drenched hoodie and she threw it off to the side. Her white shirt underneath was drowned. She sat down on the wooden stool, just waiting beside the door. She unlaced her sneakers and she kicked them off. Her black socks were soaked to the toe, she kicked them off too.
    She stood up from her stool; she proceeded further into her sanctuary. She looked about to find the most important thing in her life -- the only thing keeping her sane.
    "Boo bear?" she called out. "Honey? Where are you?" She still searched around; she made her way into her bedroom to see wrapped underneath sheets and blankets on a queen-sized bed was a body. She gave a sigh; she watched the body raise and fall down ever so slightly in its blissful sleep.
    Loki sat at the edge of the bed. She still admired the body, and some tears fell from her eyes, and they shattered on the bed. A smile rose upon her slender face; but her eyes were still glassy, but they looked so happy just to see the body asleep. She clawed into the bed, still wet with rain. She did not touch the body: she did not want it to wake, especially with the discomfort of the freezing rain. She tried to erase her breath, keeping it silent like the wind.
    The body turned towards Loki and it burrowed out from the covers, opening its shimmering hazel brown eyes. The body was a beautiful woman, around Loki's age. She had soft, pale skin; on her left wrist there was a black tattoo of an anchor; she had a beautiful curvaceous figure; and she had beautiful, long and wavy nutty brown hair that reached down to the middle of her supple back. She looked up at Loki with a warm smile, but it was soon gone: she could tell that Loki was upset.
    "What's wrong, Boo?" she sat up from the bed, and she hugged Loki so softly, and so embracingly, regardless of her soaking wet state.
    Loki wrapped her arms around her beautiful body and she rested her head upon her chest, listening to her heartbeat: it was a strange sense of comfort to the ginger. "I'm fine, Vada…" she muttered, closing her eyes, just listening to her heartbeat -- its tempo was increasing; Loki could easily deduce that Vada was worried.
    Vada stroked Loki's back to comfort her. "Please… Boo… Tell me what's wrong…" She seemed shaky, like she was the troubled one.
    Loki looked up into Vada's worried eyes. She softly kissed her upon her succulent lips, and she stood up from the bed. "I'll make us breakfast. I've been up for quite some time." She slowly walked from the bedroom; but before she left Vada said one more thing.
    "Loki, how long have you been up for?" she asked. "What's the time?"
    Loki sighed and she dropped her shoulders; she looked back at her worried love, trying to smile. Trying to keep a mask on to not make her love worry. "I'll be fine. What do you want to eat?"
    Vada stood up from the bed with sheets wrapped around her body. The worriment was painted across her face. She walked up to her love -- her head was only up to the ginger's chest -- and she hugged her tightly. "Please tell me what's wrong! I've known you for three years, and I know when you're upset. Now can you please tell me what's wrong!"
    Loki sighed; she dropped her head down, making her gingery hair veiling her face. "I can't…" she muttered. "I… I just can't… I… I love you." She gave her a gentle kiss upon her forehead; her breathing was heavy and ragged, it was even broken, like she was, like shattered glass.
    "I love you too," said Vada; gazing into Loki's sorrowful pale blue eyes. She leaned in forwards towards the shattered ginger and she kiss her upon her pale lips.
    They locked lips in a union of romance and beauty. Their hearts were as one and they made a beautiful picture together with this beauty of theirs; but Loki's tears trickled down her face. They were cold, and sad tears. Loki pulled Vada in closer to herself, still keeping her pale lips locked with her succulent lips in a passionate embrace. She tried to hide her sorrow with the passion, the seductive love; but Vada broke it apart. She stepped back from the kiss and she held her ginger tight to herself. She rested her head upon Loki's chest and she took a deep breath. She heard her heartbeat thumping in her chest: it was accelerated, agitated.
    "Loki," whispered Vada, "why can't you tell me what's wrong? Is it your parents?"
    Loki shuddered in worriment; she held the brunette close to her heart. "I don't want to lose you like I lost them." She kept her hand on the back of her head and she gently stroked it. The tears trickled down her face like waterfalls. The thought of losing Vada was piercing Loki's heart with sharp needles and foul claws. "I don't want to lose you at all… I love you so much… It's actually ripping my heart apart just thinking about it."
    Vada held Loki tighter; a few rogue tears fell from her beautiful hazel eyes. "Loki Michael Richard D'Alton, you will never loose me, I love you too. I promise. I will always come home to you, safe and sound." She looked up into Loki's eyes once more, into her very soul. She could see how she was broken, how she was shattered, but she also saw how she was still herself: funny, crazy, sassy, passionate, romantic. She still knew her love was still her love, and nothing was going to change that.
    "Thank you, Vada Rose," said Loki; she passionately kissed Vada's lips, soon biting them for enjoyment. When she quickly finished, she rested her chin upon the brunette's head, her hair was so soft. "And I promise I will never leave you too… no matter what… I will always be there for you, and I will always love you." She gently kissed the side of her neck, wondrously smiling. She wished that moment would never end; but alas, every moment must end, every song must silence, and every play must finish.