Breathe in, breathe out... you can do this.
The room spins...the lights glare out a little to brightly
A multitude of strangers, dressed to the nines
glitter, adding to my discomfort.
Drinks are flowing, laughter pervades the stuffy air.
You can do it. Just breathe. Remember this is not for you.
Not for me.... then why am I here?
But I know that answer, I am here for him. I have always been here for him.
It’s just his family, I tell myself again. His HUGE family.
Its Christmas, the lights sparkle off the tree.... and I feel lost.
Music blares, a happy facade. The party is in full swing.
I cannot find him, no one talks to me. Should I ask?
I see his parents, His mom is a whirl of activity....
talking, setting out refreshments. She is in her zone.
His step dad, stands drink in hand comfortable, letting his wife lead.
Someone’s uncle steps on my dress... and I barely catch myself.
Air, that is what I need. Out on the veranda, The city glows in front of me.
I lean out on the rail, hoping for a glimpse of stars,
However, the sky is devoid of light. Unlike the rest of the world.
I turn to head back in....
Someone grabs me roughly from behind
I feel the bite of metal against my temple
I freeze, unsure how to handle this.
A pungent odor burns my nostrils as he commands me not to scream.
I am pushed inside, I read the reactions of the strangers
Fear and relief.
Fear, there is a gun, a blunt piece of metal, a weapon, being used for harm.
Relief, it is not them, nor their families in direct danger.
The gunner, commands silence, and to be taken to the head of the house.
I finally find him, he is frozen, a look of shock on his face.
It changes to one of anger, and frustration.
The mother glides forward.... the step dad trails warily behind.
A brief exchange, this is the wrong house....The wrong address.
They want his dad.
The gunner turns his weapon
"Make the call, or it will be him next."
I am drowning in red, how dare he?
I turn my eyes, I am prepared.... he will never again threaten this family.
No matter what the cost.
Eternity passes, I have become a statue,
oblivious to the world, or rather my world has become the trigger finger.
Then slowly I see him relax... things are going his way.
I strike, my body slumps as if in a fainting spell...
My hand flies, crashing into his gun hand
the grip loosens.. the gun sails in the air....
My foot comes out. And the man is down.
I kick the gun as far form me as I can.
I wrench out my knife, pressing it into the flesh of his stomach.
Someone’s aunt dials the police.
I collapse shaking.
And suddenly I am falling, I flail arms extended.
My eyes open, I am lying in bed.
I sigh, a nervous laugh bubbles out of me.
A dream, just a dream.
As I stand the knife falls out of my hand... it is covered in blood.
And my party dress lies rumpled on the floor.
I pick up the dress and hang it away.
And toss the knife in the trash on the way to the bathroom
After all dreams shouldn't rule your reality.
August 8, 2008 at 6:15pm is when this poem was written.
