Seppuku "God knows¼"
Those words have followed her throughout her life.
"God knows," but what exactly does he know? Some say everything; "God knows all."
Others simply believe he knows what he needs to know. Taylor didn't care really, but the words were
always there to remind her. The words kept
her from going outside the lines, until now. # # #
A deep crimson soaked the desert tan carpet. Taylor
stood rigid at the delta of the crimson's source. A
long knife quivered in her hand, from it beads of blood slowly dripped into a small pool
beside her foot. The pool joined quickly the
larger reservoir that soaked the desert tan carpet. Joining
as if pulled to it by a force yet unseen.
She smiled briefly, not knowing exactly why. She
could hear the blood as it pumped from the gaping hole she had caused. "You did it this time Taylor," she said
as she peered down.
Lifting the knife to eye level she spied her reflection through the cobwebs of
blood and dabs of flesh. Those streaks of
crimson that hung true to the stainless steel, hanging there as if to grasp on to the last
hope for life. They brought a snicker past
her lips, the irony she thought.
She brought her free hand to her tresses. Combing
them with her fingers, she delicately ran them through her auburn tints. She teased her hair for a moment, then stopped. "Could never do anything with it
anyway," she complained.
In a rush the world around her dimmed, then returned. Her head felt light, as the tunnel of her vision
narrowed ever so. Darkness enveloped her,
tighter it ran its grip over her.
Taylor fell to her knees. A distinct
squish accompanied the dull thud of her knees as they sank into the blood soaked carpet. Blood crawled up her exposed thighs like fingers
exploding from overturned earth.
"God knows¼" she mumbled beneath her breath.
The blood continued to stream from her wound.
Gently brushing her hand over it she could feel the warmth of her palm as it
penetrated her. Then, the cool air of the
vacant room penetrated her, as it reminded her of the shadow of death.
On her knees, alone, she was fading into another place. Her heartbeats grew louder, resonating from her
chest. With each beat, blood would pump from
her wound. Past her ears she could hear the
rush of blood like rapids upon a raging river.
Every sense was heightened, heightened to a level never experienced in life, only
in dying. She felt more, felt the cold of the
room as it gripped her. It was not harsh like
the unyielding hands of a man, but gently as a mother's touch on her child. Her eyes saw the dead as they wandered about her,
waiting for their father to retrieve them to a better place-if one in fact existed. With them she would be soon and they welcomed her,
this too she could sense.
She could smell her death also; she crinkled her nose at the carrion odor. Although her flesh still warm, the decay beneath
it came to the surface, came to her keen senses. Taylor
didn't smile; the growing ache in her abdomen prohibited it. But she was relaxed, as the arms of death cradled
her.
She thought more too. Thought about
the life she had lead, the path she had walked. A
Christian life, one filled with honesty and devotion to her father. For what, she briefly wondered.
Everything moved in slow motion, as if she were watching a picture show. She stepped away from herself. Her face was pale, her eyes sunken deep into her
face. Black hugged them in an empty lake of
death. Her parched lips quivered, she
whispered to herself, "God knows¼"
Taylor scoffed. She looked down at the
gap in her abdomen, the blood poured from there like an opened dike. Her body slumped forward; the folds of her skin
stained a bright crimson, contrasting the pale skin that pushed away from the opening. She was ugly, uglier than she had ever thought she
could be. In the eyes of God she was ugly,
she could never live in his light. In the
eyes of her parents she was ugly, she could never live up to their aspirations. In her own eyes she found herself to be an
attractive young woman, and in the eyes of others she was more. In the eyes of one, she was much more. Her thoughts drifted but the shock of the moment
brought her senses back. The sharp gutting
pains ripped though her. And the empty
feeling of her shell as the blood continued to drain from her, pooling beneath her on the
desert tan carpet.
Feeling the wings of angels caressing her, she smiled. Their downy soft quills rubbed gently against her
bare skin. She also felt the sharp tongue
of demons as they licked at her supple skin. They
left ulcers upon her and the quills of the angels began to bite into her. The time was nearing; she would go forward but to
where was unclear.
"God knows¼"
Taylor folded back into herself. A
bolt of pain jolted her, straightening her spine as she released a deep groan. She grew weaker as the crimson stain on the
desert tan carpet widened. "God?" she whispered. "If you know, then why?" Taylor grabbed at her abdomen as something moved
from her. "Finally," she said. On the broad pool of crimson lay a bulb of blood and
flesh, a child, a child yet unborn.
"God knows¼" Taylor fell forward; the weight of her body pushed
the crimson wider as her flesh was painted in gore. In
her hand she held the small bulb of flesh that had fallen from her womb. "Is a sin, to bear a child." Taylor cried as she rubbed her bare fingers. She felt a rush of air exit her lungs, never again
to be filled. Her world brightened, then
flashed the red that covered the back of her eyelids before all fell black.
I
cannot live in a world governed by such a beast. And
when I move on, we shall meet and you will know. I
hate you and will never forgive you. As I
lay down my life, because I cannot face this child or myself, I do it in the name of
Christ. You betrayed me and I will betray you
by taking your temple and desecrating it. I
do this out of hate, out of malice, and I do not forgive. © 2001 L.J.
Blount |
