Kaylee (xyourxsecretx) wrote,

The rumbling of clothes tumbling through the machines of steel. I would flip through the pages of this horror fiction legend to see when this chapter would end. My eyes peeked from above the book to watch my surroundings to make sure if I was still alone. Sort of hoping someone would come into this laundry Mat with a story to tell me. With something I can learn from. All I am looking for is a simple conversation that will change my life forever. I am craving the taste of intellgence and imagination. But all I hear is the television humming and the pattering of the rain outside the window. Making a rythem to each rain drop and my finger continues to tap to each beat trying to entertain myself with trying to follow the story of a murdurous clown. A clown full of red balloons and a snickering laugh that I swear I can hear in my mind whenever I read his dialouge. I always look around me once or twice to hope that clown isn't right above of me. Just watching me. Then I begin to desperately feel like I need someone right beside my side. I begin to need someone to be here with me as my heart begins to race of being so lonely in this laundry matt. This is what I do on friday nights, lay in Laundry matts until morning. I always found the laundry mat to be an interesting place to meet somebody, to have conversations with. I once met this woman who taught me pride and suffering. I never believe a world could be so bad until she told me the story of her abusive husband. She told me she had to run away from him. She was a runaway and only scrounged up a few cents to clean her clothes that reeked of mud. I gave her an extra twenty dollars and she smiled greatfully and left with confidence to find a better life. I smiled back at her hoping her life will find itself on its right path.
I continue to day-dream of all of the morals I have ever learned from this place. I put my book down as I watched the same clothes I would clean every night. Just for an excuse to be somewhere on a friday night. Since my roomate never was home and never planned to ask me to join her to go anywhere. You can say, I was always the one friend you would talk to once just for a fill-in. Never did I tend to mean anything to anyone. I am just there to make you smile for one hour of the day. I just watched the cycle continue itself as I just watched my life continue it's cycle.
It was about midnight when the clock's bigger hand touched the tweleve. Where a man busted through the doors and the bell rang twice to make me aware that someone was here. He furiously dropped all of his clothes on the ground that was ripped into shreds and painted in blood and mud. He opened one of the washer doors and threw everything in there as he was dripping wet. He frantically searched his pockets for money. He couldn't find nothing in his pocket but dust and lint. I thought I might as well help him. I walked up to the stranger and handed him seventy five cents for a full cycle. "Here mister. I think you need it." I smiled as I looked into his blood shot eyes. He looked at me once, then looked down at the money. "Here! Really, I don't need it."I extended my hand out a bit more. He took my hand and threw the money across the room. "I don't NEED your PITY money." He took his clothes out of the machine and threw them on the ground and grabbed his garbage bag as he began shoving the clothes right back in. "It wasn't pity money. I was just trying to help. I like to make strangers day."He kneeled on the ground quietly as he mused about the lace dress he was fingering. He picked the dress up and rubbed it against his cheeck. He closed his eyes and he smelt the memories that was marinated into the 1800's dress. He looked up at me, "Do you think maybe you can try this dress on?" the rage in his eyes cowarded in fear. He holded the dress out as I saw the blood stain's bring a quite pattern to the dress. The dress was so beautiful. I always dreamed of living in a victorian house, trying to breathe in such a tight dress like that one. I looked at the stranger as his eyes began to widen and began to go back to color. I took the dress from him, smiled, and told him I will be right back.
I put the dress on as I looked through the collage of college drama writen on the wall. I was on there a few times by the girls of jealousy. I could care less, I just slipped the dress on and walked out of the bathroom. He was standing there with a tux on and I wondered how he got the tux on ever so fast. He extended his hand out and he asked me to dance. We got on top of the tables and waltz around the room. I never knew how to dance. I always had two left feet but he made me feel like I was dancing forever. The way his hand would gracefully twirl me to the other side. The way he dipped me down so quietly, so softly. I felt like I was dancing forever.

I holded her so tightly, I never wanted to let her go. I felt like I was craving for her attention. I watched her beautiful blue eyes turn into ice when I asked her to dance. How could this stranger trust a stranger and not be afraid? I wish I could tell her to never be afraid of me. But I have so many complications that I could never understand myself. I began to loose my paitence with dancing. My sides began to hurt, my wounds began to rip open and the blood seeped out of the tores and rips of my tuxedo. She noticed them as she slightly brushed her finger across my chest. "You're bleeding."She said quietly as if she didn't want to disrupt our dancing. "I been through a few battles. None that I have ever won."I smiled as if battles were something I was used to. "You want me to go to the twenty-four hour mart and get you some peroxide?"She asked me. My heart wanted her to stay in my arms forever so I can hear her heart beat ever so quietly. But the wounds that the blood kept profusely seeping out yelled at me to ask her to bandage me up. She agreed to go across the street and said she had the money to cover it. I wondered where this college girl had all of this money. My mind began to muse about her when she was gone. I thought who she was, where she came from, why she would be so open, so graceful, such a great dancer, how could she be so perfect for me? Who was this girl and what killed me is I will never know who she is. I picked up the book she had on the table as I began to read a couple pages. I put it after the twenty-sixth sentence because I never liked fake serial killers. What kind of clown could scare a grown man? What type of nonesense was that? She came back in with her dress tied down to the ground by the rain that made the dress heavier than it already was. She came sat next to me, and took off my shirt so carefully. "Don't these hurt?"She asked as she squinted her eyes imagining the pain. "All the time but think of them as stories. Every wound is a story that I will always remember."She smiled as she heard my words leave my lips. She got the linen cloth to wrap my wounds up. She poured some peroxide on a cotton ball and swabed my stories. "If you think about it, wounds never heal. They are always going to be apart of your body. Why would you be afraid of wounds? They let you know you're real."I told her as every swab was a sting that I just simply did not wanna remember. I was a lying fool to this girl. Ever wound she is cleaning is every fuck up I have ever done. I was a story book to her. An author making up his own character. I was a character that girls would fall in love with- like another Edward. That mysterious vampire- but if she would meet the author she would burn every book that she ever touched of mine. I never wanted her to know the author. She smiled as she cleaned me up and wrapped up the last wound. Her heart was ever so close to mine as I touched her hair and my hand brushed her cheek. How soft and delicate her skin was. How beautiful her eyes were. My mind was lost in her beautiful face. But the deed had to be done. She was the missing piece of my puzzle. She was the girl who will complete my creation. She had the perfect heart I always wanted. Took five years to find a heart like this one. So open, so quiet, so feaful. I came in full of blood and torn clothes and all she could ever ask me was for money. I watched her fingers tie up the last wound. She looked at me as she buttoned my shirt. She looked up at the time, "it was such a great time being with you. But I think I should go." It was six am and our legs were hurting from waltzing on top of tables. She got up and capped up the peroxide. I got up with her as I fell down slightly. "Don't hurt youself too much."She said genuiouly. She began to walk away as I came up from behind her. I holded the blades underneath my finger tips. "How do you think it feels like to die?"I asked her. "It must be wonderful."her hands began to shake but her heart stayed so calm. "Do you think it would be wonderful? I think coming to terms with death is the worse part. Having to know you'll have to say goodbye to every thing you loved? But love doesn't exist. It's only a hoax story books made you believe to spend money on pointless gifts to make each other happy."I holded her neck even tighter. My thirst for her heart turned into aderline that pumped through my viens. "Love is something beautiful to expirence. Just not all of us can believe in something like that."she stood still as my tux began to soak up the blood and rain. "When you die, you actually learn. You learn how it feels to live. You get to see the world for what it really is. You get to understand something that life could never teach you. You get to see the lies, betrayal being played right before your eyes. You get to watch the heart broken, you get to watch the abuse. You get to play god. But when you face death, you can actually feel fear. You can actually feel what it is like to be alive."I began to smell the condinitor in her hair. I began to feel her body being molded into mine. My heart began to grow for this girl. I began to tell my heart that I can't keep this girl froever. I began to remember the creation back at home. I'm creating the perfect girl. The perfect girl who can give me anything I want, have the mind I always dreamed of. Never will I have to feel let down, never feel rejected, never be beaten to almost death to feel love. I will be able to embrace the girl into my arms and tell her I love her without her emotionally draining me. I had the perfect girl. I had her, it took five years to construct but I stole every thing and murdered all forms of life to get this.- I took the brain from a 4.0 Harvard student( that proudly was on the deans list) that stayed up late with me in the library to talk to me about situations that nobody would be that intellgent to research. I stole the lungs of a 7am runner. Who got up every morning to go for a two hour walk. Who never smoked in her life, who never was around second smoke. Who ever she saw light up a ciggerate she would take the stick out of their mouth. She was the first girl to show me how my body feels to be alive. I took the skin from a plastic surgery whore. Who would look so beautiful at the age sixty. Who kept the classic look of being 20. She would walk around with the best confidence I have ever found in a older woman. As I put her in a pleasure shock- I skinned every piece of her until she commited suicide from the shame of her true idenity. I crafted the teeth from the dentist I used to enjoy. She was in dentistry and was an intern. She would alway smile so widley when she saw me but whenever she took me into her office she would explain to me how she hates the job she lives. She says a perfect smile can disguise the pain she goes through every day. The perfect teeth can be an advertisment that every one is looking for, the perfect disguise for what she really feels. I told her I could take her out of her misery. She asked me how- and I showed her how it felt to be in real pain and misery. I took every tooth out of her and placed them in my little box as she screamed for help with blood sufforcating her to death. I dug up the skeleton of my first girlfriend ever- the first girl I have ever loved. The 5'7 perfect posture girl with the perfect shape. The shape that wasn't so slender, and the shape that wasn't so wide. Whenever I layed next to her, our bodies matched up like the perfect puzzle. She was the first girl to ever teach me love. I will never forget that feeling. I ran away from her from fear.-
I listened for her last breath as I closed my eyes. I holded her neck even closer to me as the blade just slightly touched her neck. She heart still beat with the same beat as mine. I was so needy for her heart. The most important piece of the creation. The heart of beauty. "Are you ready to face death?"I asked her. "If you want me to."Was her last words as I slit her neck open. I heard her take her last breath as she slowly sank to the ground. Blood began to pour out of my hands. I picked her up and had her over my shoulder.

The feeling of misery fills up in all of our hearts, clouding our minds until we can't control ourselves anymore. You can call me selfish, but call me your god, your genie, your one wish. I am the genie who will take you away from this misery. To make sure you can never know how it feels to hurt again. I drive with adrenline through my viens. Tasting the fresh new blood that drove me to insanity.
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