I have them. Forming part of me for so long, sometimes I believe the parallel stories I've said. It never was cause for concern until we met. Until I loved you. Taking the part of me I showed, loving the scars, accepting what you thought was all of me.

Sometimes, I lie awake at night afraid to sleep; Giving something away would mean losing the most precious thing I have. I fear the nightmares that would make me scream things that are never to be whispered. I fear the unknown caller on your phone.

Would you stay if you knew? I've said so many times that it's all gone --It's been years since then! Yet, the signs are there. Those secrets are coming back...You might not.

A taste so light, it hardly fills

Sweet enough to send you thrills

fullness of flavor is not thoroughly tasted

always left to want more

Each time a different piece

Getting close but not close to end it

Every time lighter than before

Draughts getting deeper not wanting to cease

Until it is there--

Rich, sublime, sweet, tangy--gone

Eyelids closed, I drank in his beautiful features. Dark hair contrasted his red lips, and pale skin. Perfect nose. Snuggling closer I breathed him in. Closing my eyes, I remembered our night together. Laughter. Games.

Opening my eyes a bashful giggle escaped my lips. He had been perfect. I kissed his cold lips before getting up, smiled and streched. Death made them all even more beautiful. A standstill of perfection. This one would be great for my collection.

Opening the door to my study, they all greeted me, quietly, their glass eyes staring adoringly at me.

"Hello boys! I brought you a new friend to meet." A half crazed sigh building in anticipation of the preparations ahead.

"Let's get to work!" I said, as I sharpened the knife. He was the most beautiful of all. After all, men did want to be admired...

When you are withered and old,

I will give you your dreams.

even if hanging by the seams.

Love is not for those that seek,

It only comes when there’s a need,

and after that, there’s only grief

gleams of other lives just brief

I pay, I pay, and pay again

a reward that never comes

A promise that will never be

A feeling, late to show.

Still, I’ll wait and wait again,

Seeking that love that comes

when all seems lost but there’s a need

even if dust is all it becomes.

When you are withered and old,

I will give you your dreams.

Even, if hanging by the seams...

A part of my arm felt like it was on fire, trying to move I felt painfully aware of the throbbing everywhere. Eyelids felt glued shut and my brain felt eerily fuzzy. I licked my lips. Chapped and cracking. Slowly, my eyelids began to cooperate. Two men were sitting in front of me, one a gun in hand, dozing off, a bottle of tequila sitting empty by his feet. The other paced around barking orders into his phone.

“Where am I?” I tried to sound out but all that came out was a pathetic dry and rasping whimper. Swallowing I realized how swollen my throat was. I tried getting up until I realized...I was tied down to a chair. Heart pounding I finally began to see the real picture. Arms and legs were taped down to a plastic chair that looked like it was about to give way any minute. My arm, the part that felt like it was on fire, was covered in blood and a deep gash was staring up at me. Looking at it made me realize how much pain I was in.

Fear gripped my heart and reason went flying out the door. I began trying to “break” out of the flimsy chair, that happened to be sturdier than what it felt like. It wasn’t until the legs of the chair bent and I fell on my face that the man on the phone came to see me.

Pulling me up by my hair, he ignored my yelps of pain.

″Buenos dias mi amor,” He said. Good morning sweetie. Tears began to well up in my eyes.

″En donde estoy?” I asked hoarsely. He responded by laughing again.

″Como? No te acuerdas? Hmm eso que la pasamos muy bien anoche!” He was talking about having a good time with me last night. I went back and drew a blank.

“Let’s see if you remember with this, mija.” He said with a grin.

″Tavo! El Tequila.” He yelled at the other man, who was awake now.

″Ya no hay. Lo usamos todo anoche.” At this, the man left my side and menacingly approached Tavo.

″Ve por mas guey!” He said lifting him up by the collar.

“I am sorry, mi amor, it seems the party will have to wait. While we wait for the Tequila we can talk a little more, no?” He said, touching my hair. I pulled back not wanting his filthy hand to touch my face. The slap came so fast. Out of nowhere. Again, I was on the floor on my face and I tasted blood. He pulled me up again by my hair.

“Let’s try this again, Okey?” He said ignoring my sobs. He put his hand on my hair and caressed my rapidly swelling cheek.

″Mi amor, I don’t want to keep hurting you but you have to tell me, donde esta tu papi?” Papi. Suddenly I remembered I had not been alone.

″Donde esta Julian?” I asked anxiously. What had they done to my boyfriend? The night before, we had gone to celebrate our first anniversary together. A beach party with our friends later. Nothing we didn’t usually do.

″Quieres que?” He asked

″Donde esta Julian. Que le hicieron, mal nacidos!” I managed to gather enough courage to call him a name. He got up, fearing another blow I flinched. He didn’t do anything. He went outside and whistled, a short loud call. A few minutes later, Julian walked in --Without a scratch.

“Julian! What are you, are you okay? Did they do anything to you?” I tried getting up, only to remember I was bound. My attacker only laughed.

″Ya, dile guey!” He said while chuckling.

“Tell me what?” I screeched. Dread filled my stomach and I could feel as if my heart sank to my feet and jumped back up my throat.

“Charlie, you know I love you...” He began.

“Tell me what?” I screeched again.

″Si tu no le dices, le digo yo! Este guey, el fue el que te trajo aqui.” Disbelief came over me. It was like a bucket of ice water had poured over me.

″No es cierto! Julian! No me mientas. Ayudame!” I began angry and finished pleading.

Kneeling he tried to unbind me.

“Charlie, just, just tell them what they want. Just tell them where your dad is and we can all go home.”

“Why do I need to tell them where he is? Why did you bring me here!” I began to scream.

“Ya sacala de aqui guey! No sabe nada.” A stream of curse words ensued between them. The other man arrived with the tequila just then.

Clapping his hands in anticipation, the man practically jumped to where Tavo was with the bottle. Opening it, he took a sip and then focused on me.

“Mira, Mamita asi esta la cosa, tu papito, he owes me a lot of money. I need him to know, time is running out. Yo he sido muy paciente, but my patience is running out. Donde esta ese hijo de la ch--” He was cut off by the beeping of his phone.

″Mira! Es tu papi!” He teased me as he showed me the caller. It was my father. He stepped outside for a minute and came back too quickly, unholstering his gun he shot my foot. I began to scream as pain shot up my leg, blood spurting everywhere.

″Ya tienes tu prueba de vida. Tienes 10 minutos.” He said through my screams; Julian came close and tried getting me to drink tequila, to numb the pain.

“No! get away from me!” I tried to say in between sobs and screams; Managing to put the bottle down my throat I began sputtering and choking. The vile thing burned my nose and throat bringing back a similar scene from last night. Tavo pouring it down my throat while the other man stuck a knife in my arm trying to get me to talk.

When Julian finally removed the bottle I gasped for air, managing to choke on even more.

“I’m sorry baby! I am so sorry. We’ll get out of here and--” A shot rang out and he never finished his sentence. He fell, a bullet hole showing through his head. I kept screaming. It seems it was all I could do. Scream until my lungs gave out.

“Callate!” The man yelled. He was still on the phone. A smile crept up his face. Looking at Tavo, he signaled with his head towards me.

“No!What are you going to do! No! Leave me alone! Help me!” Preparing for the worst I began to think of all the times I could have been better. I felt my legs and arms loosen and I saw Tavo had cut away the bindings.

“Llevala con el Doc...Ya sabe que van.” I was going to a doctor? A real one?

″Adios mi amor, and remember...” He came close and grabbed my face, hard, between his hands. ”I am going to be watching you, muy muy de cerca.”

Don't really know why I did it. It just happened. One day I was there, thinking --for it had become a regular habit, about escaping, going away or disappearing altogether. He was there. Losing his job as a chef triggered even more violence than before, so one day I let go, so I could be alone, and never dared think that one of my wishful moments of escape would actually happen. We had no children yet, so it was easy to forget about going back. It was easy to forget that he was waiting and that his cold stare would bore into me until my insides churned with anxiety. The cold wind was biting at my fingers. Looking at them for the first time since it happened, seeing the dried blood on them, I let my mind process what I had done.

Earlier that day, in a rare but wonderful event, work let out early. Excitement was in the air since the reason for this was a change in management. My cubicle neighbor -- a friendly, happy sassy man with a taste for other men wiggled his perfectly waxed eyebrows at me.

“Girl, you know this means early happy hour, right?” He was fluffing his hair as he said it.

“No, I can’t Mel, you know how he gets if I’m not home by the time he gets there.”

“Ah, yes your horrid man-candy, slash ‘sugar daddy’. Why are you still with him?” His usually light tone turned serious.

“Because, nosy, I love him. People don’t just quit when it gets difficult. Besides, he’s changing. This has been a good week for us. He cooked all week.”

“Honey, I am seriously worried about you. What if one day it’s not just a bruised eye or arm? You have to get out of there, we’ll go to the police and have his hiny arrested, and then we’ll go and have a fabulous margarita party!” I had to bite my lip to stop from agreeing. I loved him. He loved me. This would all get better, especially since we were thinking about getting married and having kids.

“I’m not leaving him Mel.” Mel threw his hands up in the air and gave a deep sigh.

“Fine, fine. When you’re ready, I’ll be here. Happy hour?” Laughing, I grabbed my purse and hooked my arm through his.

“Sure. Only one hour. I need to be home by six!”

“What are you sixteen?”

“I mean it.”

Feeling liberated, we went to our favorite bar, ‘Margarita Village.’

“Ohhhh, girl, it’s destiny, two for one today!” Mel began gushing over the menu while I fidgeted. We sat and began taking in the scenery.

“That waiter was totally checking you out. Why not, with your big brown church-girl eyes and dimples.”

“I don’t have church girl eyes!” I protested while reaching for my hand mirror. Reflection staring right at me I began inspecting it. Long, light brown hair, pale skin, big eyes and perfect make up. Not even an eyelash out of place. That was how he liked it. I Snapped it shut and began focusing my attention to the waiter who was bringing our drinks. He was cute. Tall, dark and handsome. Dimple in his left cheek and bright blue eyes. Perfect contrast.

After three (double) drinks I found myself brazenly flirting with him. Perhaps it was the alcohol or the high I got from feeling unconstrained for the first time in a year. It got dark and soon it went from being just us two to about ten people who were just as drunk as us. Standing up I began a mental checklist, sort of a test of inebriation. Name: Charlotte Rambert. Stand on one leg. Alphabet. Touch your nose.

“Mel, we have to go! Sleep over tonight so he won’t kill me.”

“Darlings, my date beckons.” Bowing dramatically he said goodnight to all. A chorus of ‘boos’ and ‘awws’ followed us as we made our way out.

“Charlotte, wait!” Whirling to see who had called me, all blood drained from my face when I saw who it was.

“Greg! Did we forget to pay?” I was beginning to open my purse when he held my hand and placed a folded piece of paper in it. He winked and kissed my cheek.

“Call me.” He ran back inside and my knees began to shake—not from excitement.

“Ooh! Let me see, you got a number and didn’t even have to try that hard. See? Your drunk self knows best. Ditch your man candy and call him up. He was cute!” Taking the piece of paper from my hand he began inspecting it.

“It’s real too!” While Mel was gushing about it, a million scenarios about what would happen if Gerard found out about it began to play right in front of me.

“Throw it away. I can’t have it. I have a boyfriend. One I happen to live with.” Nervously I began reaching for it.

“Charlie, you flirted. It’s not cheating, it’s called having fun. You were drunk it’s not like you go out hounding every day, though you should. It would do you a world of good.”

“No, you don’t understand, this would set us back. I can’t. No. Give it to me.” I wrestled him for it and threw on the ground.

“Then I can’t go home with you. You know what, you’re throwing your life away.”

“Why are you saying that to me? You’re my best friend.”

“Exactly, that’s why! No one else knows about your horrid life but me. When someone is happy, they tell everyone, when they’re unhappy they don’t quit complaining about it. You make excuses for him and I’m done. I can’t see you go on this self-destructing life style. Yeah, he is hot but so what? Is it worth all the bruises? When is it going to stop?”

“You don’t know him. He’s a little rough around the edges but he—”

“He what? He doesn’t mean it? He can change? What? Because I’ve heard all this before since the first time he laid a finger on you.” Angry tears rolled down my cheeks as I turned on my heel and left Mel standing there, alone in the dark.

No sooner was my key in the lock, the door burst open and in all his intimidating magnificence, pulled me in. No hello, not even a hint of loving emotion. With a bowed head, lips stammering I asked him what was wrong and if he could please forgive me. Then it began.

“Where were you?” He asked in a cold voice, a threat hiding underneath that sentence.

“Mel and I went out for drinks.”

“Do you even know what time it is?” I didn’t. Glancing up at the clock I was surprised to see it was barely eight. I let out a small smile.

“You think this is funny?” He grabbed my arm.

“I have called everyone looking for you. Lucky I didn’t call your parents little girl.” Little girl. Of course. I was ten years his junior and he would throw that in my face every chance he got.

“Why are you acting out? Needing attention are we? Guess you didn’t get enough of it at home.”

“Gerry, please. It’s not that late and I’m tired. Could we please just let this go?” Obviously, that was the wrong thing to say. His face began distorting to an ugly rage filled grimace, vein popping on his forehead. The first slap startled me.

“Let-this-go?” He said in between blows, each one getting harder than the previous.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry Gerry, please!” I whimpered while trying to cover my face as best as possible. Walking backwards, I tripped and fell. He took it as a chance to begin kicking me. A sudden memory of my dad kicking my dog came back to me. I was the dog. The anger I had been hiding, denying and avoiding for a year erupted out of me. I kicked back and screamed. It took him by surprise so I was able to get up and grab the nearest thing available. A heavy iron skillet. I swung and missed.

“I am not your dog anymore. I loved you and I’m done making excuses for you. I’m leaving you.”

“No, you won’t.” The sudden rush of adrenaline that had come to me, left and the pan began to feel too heavy in my hands. His hands were at my throat in seconds and the adrenaline kicked in again and I swung, this time connecting with his skull.

He cried in pain and reached for the nearest thing, one of his very, very sharp kitchen knives. To be honest I only felt the first one, deep in my belly, he did it again, and again and again and the animal sounds emitting through my throat got fainter and fainter. I could no longer see him but I could hear him, crying and throwing stuff around. Quiet, then movement. Me. I was moving. Only I wasn’t. He was dragging me out the back door. He dumped me on the back of his car and got in. I don’t know how long or how far or even if I was still alive, my consciousness kept drifting in and out. Soon enough he was carrying me out and dumping me near a frozen pond and covered me with leaves. He turned around and walked away, drove away. All this peace and quiet was what I had always wanted. I was lying on the cold ground, dying. Funny, I never thought this was how I would finally be free.