"I remember my mother......"
Smooth blonde locks of shining golden hair appeared before Kitten's
fingers, a smile fading into view. Green-blue eyes, much like Kitten's,
blinked back at her, as her mother's loving presence graced her path
of vision. Kitten smiled, touching her mother's face.
"I remember you so well...... like it was
The face began to dissapear, as a small child began to giggle. Bright
hair, like her mother's, curled into tiny ringlets of a baby angel.
Tears formed in Kitten's eyes.
".....Everyday I cry for you..... everyday
A cloud of red smoke filtered over her loving family, as a cruel growl
eminated from within it. She could see her father's bloody hand, outstreatched.....
which quickly morphed into an arm of another man.... one wearing a long
black trenchcoat.... his red eyes gleaming from behind, Kitten realized
it was the face of her ex-fiance, The Criminal. Kitten cringed, wiping
his face away. The arm remained, another face taking form... one holding
a barbed wire bat. His sandy-blonde hair and rough smile caught Kitten
odd, it was Jem Williams. His smile turned into an evil grin, as the
abt raised over his head. Kitten threw her hands above her head, as
he suddenly warped into her father, weilding a meat tenderizer.
Kitten sat stright up in the frigid cold water in the bathtub. She had
forgotten she had fallen asleep in the comfort of what was supposed
to be rest and relaxation. he trembled slightly, not in fear, nor in
pain.... but in anger. She hated how the men in her past had followed
her into her dreams, interrupting everything peaceful in her mind. Her
mother and sister were the only things left in ehr ife that she enjoyed
remembering. And yet the terrible faces of those who had tried to hurt
her... or took a peice of her happiness away, came crawling in through
her ears. Kitten stood, wrapping a robe around her body, the goose pimples
under her skin laughing at her sorrow.
"........But crying for you, mother...crying
for you, sister..... only brings me grief. For the souls of the damned
and confused haunt me like angry hornets. For some reason, they all
want me to wither and rot...."
~"...... Maybe I should ust fall apart. Maybe
if I just wither away into nothing, Bigg Rigg would finally have a sense
of peace. And then sit down and have a family. Then maybe Orchid would
quit whoring around, and the Angry Italian won't be so.... angry. Maybe
Jem will get ahold of Anarchy, and change it into something memorable.
He would be happy if I died, right? The Criminal..... Chris.... my ex
fiance. He is probably drinkin' beers with Steve Jason somewhere, both
laughing at my insecurities and the pain I have to live with everyday.
Jonathyn.... I've dissapointed him many times... I feel I have never
done enough..... and now the angels of magick good and true mock me,
telling me to get off the pity-pot. Alas, I am so utterly alone, and
so utterly misunderstood. If only I could find someone as brilliant....
or.. insane as I.... I could truely find peace. Am I seriously that
hated? What could I have possibly done to deserve so much hate?...."~
Kitten picked up her brush, looking at herself in the mirror. Her
hair was past her chin, now. Almost touching her shoulders. Her black
understrands mixed with the red ringlets, as she stroked the brush through
the wet chunks. Tears still clung to her eyes, as if to hug away all
the drama in her life.
"Do I deserve it moreso than the next
guy? I talk just as much shit as the next person. I make accusations,
and I cause a lot of hell. But I know I am not the biggest and baddest
to stroll into people' lives. I knwo someone has said worse, and I know
someone has caused worse. But if so, then how could I possibly be worthy
of so much trouble and so much hate? Is there any love? Does anyone
have love for me?...... Kitten?... Lillith Groves? Is anyone in this
god-forsaken green Earth who wishes to throw me against the wall, rip
my shirt off and kiss me?.... Or just merely be a pen pal?.... "
A sigh raced through Kitten's chest cavity, as she pondered, attempting
to understand the wretched ways of a society she had always tried to
immitate.. or tried to impress. She dropped the brush, and allowed it
to tumble onto the floor. She turned on the water, running hot water
to warm her withering fingers and pale, cold cheeks. She splashed water
onto her skin, and found light pleasure in becoming warm and alive again.
She looked down to the marble sink, to find crimson bullets slapping
against the stone. Her eyes widened,as she looked back to the mirror.
Dripping from her irritated tear ducts, were teardrops of red liquid
life. She had been in pain for so long, that the constant tears had
dried up, causing her eyes to become drained of moisture. But Kitten
wasn't worried, she wallowed in each tear that had fallen from her mother's
eyes. The ones she had gotten in compensation for her father's deep
red hair. She had her father's temper. And it was one thing she hated
about herself, and most feared. Expecially since her father was a murdering
hellraiser, and she had beaten him at a young age. Kitten walked to
the floor-length mirror, and dropped her robe to the floor. She studied
her body, even as the red petals of her passion and pain fell to her
"......That must be why. The only gene
in my system holding the temper that fuels my fire taht came from my
father...... is why I must be hated. They said I have my mother's beauty..
they said I have my mother's heart, humor, and charm. But the one thing
from my father is what must burden me from a normal life. From friends,
family....... love. As overpowering it was on me, it mus be even moreso
upon others. My pain must drag others down.... as my fire burns them
from the inside out. I guess that is something to fear..... but I wish
I could control it. I wish it could be put out. But I have my mother's
determination. So the flame in my hell will never be extinguished. I
shall always be in hell. I shall always be in pain.... I shall always
Kitten stood, still examining each muscle and scar she had earned on
her body. She definatley was something to look at, even though her bronze
skin had faded into white over the past year, being secluded and hidden
away from the life outside. In her own trauma, she couldn't bear to
witness the happiness and sorow of normal people. She was above it and
beyond it. And to feel pain or happiness that a normal being would feel,
would never be enough for Kitten to feel.... and she would find jealousy
in the simplicity of their lives.
The camera began to fade away, catching a glimpse at the figure of Kitten
ino the fading candlelight of the bathroom. Her red hair still dripping
with bathwater, cascading over her buttocks, and pooling under her on
the floor. Her forever prison sentance in the torturous depths of her
mind clouded all reason.... or any hope of finishing her setance.
......What if that sentance was the key to Kitten's weakness.....
or to her happiness? I suppose we shall never know.