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Human, Woman, Wife, Mother, Daughter, Sister, Friend & Aspiring Unicorn Breeder


Words and Fists.

"And how did it feel?" she asked him. He thought he saw the hint of a smirk on her lips and, he swore, a flash of fire flickering in her bored eyes. Although how she could be bored was beyond him, but he supposed even the goriest of gore and the sickest of sick fucks became nothing more than "the daily grind" when you dealt with it on a never ending basis.

'Same fucking question, every fucking time' was the response on the tip of his tongue. His fists clenched involuntarily. He smoothed his palms out flat against his thighs and pondered the question, unsure if he had sufficient words this time.

Words tried to escape him, outrun his mouth. They always had. Maybe that was part of his problem, why he used his fists instead. His mama always told him to use his words, but he never did. Not at first anyway. It wasn't that he didn't listen, he just couldn't do it. Eventually though, (usually after fists had flown), he'd catch up with those words and they'd come spewing out of him like vomit. It couldn't be helped. Happened every time. Too bad it was always too late. Too bad it's what got him in the end... His stupid god damned words.

Still, he hated talking and he hated these "therapy" sessions. Would they ever end? This part of it all was even worse than the god damn procedure. He hated reliving it. But there'd be no worming his way out of this. He knew he would relive it again and again... and again. 

He let out a long sigh.

After several ear-pounding heartbeats he replied sarcastically, "Like hell."

She chuckled softly, "How appropriate."

"Well," he continued, irritation edging his voice, "if you want the honest to God truth, again, I suppose it felt a bit like my insides had been carved out." Fists clenched tight again, body filled with heat. 

Another smirk. "Honest to god truth?" Another flash of fire, then the shadow of a smile. "Go on." she prodded, nodding her head knowingly. 

Here the words came, spilling out. "When they strap me to the table.. first, always, there's the terror. But when they open me up, when they opened up my chest the pain replaced everything. It's like, it's like what a tooth feels like during a root canal, but with no sedative, no anesthetic. Nothing. Nothing to numb the... pain as brilliant as the sun." He stopped for a moment shuddering at the thought. "It felt like the tender pulp of my very being had been ripped out, excruciatingly slowly, and the husk of me was filled with molten lead. Burning away at my raw edges and poisoning me, replacing the sharp pain of my frayed nerves with something horribly unimaginable... pain. Pain. Only for me now it's not unimaginable and the fire inside, it never cools..." He trailed off, unable to continue.  

She shifted slightly in her chair, leaning toward him, "What a way with words you have. Almost hard to believe you're so quick to violence. Normally people with such tendencies are lacking in that department..." Her head tilted, inquiring. "And now?" she asked, one delicate eyebrow quirking up as if she didn't already know the answer.

"And now, what?" he shot back tersely. 

She smiled somewhat sadly, "How does it feel?"

"The same. The exact fucking same." He glanced down at his chest. It looked perfect. No scars, no nothing. But he could feel it. He'd never stop feeling it and he knew it. Tears brimmed his lids and threatened to spill over, but he wouldn't give them that. Fuck them, he thought, they can all go to... His train of thought stopped cold.

She stared at him, waiting for him to continue.

"When will this end?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

She laughed then. A cold piercing laugh that tangled up with the never ending heat that was once his soul. It was beyond anything humanly bearable.

"Oh I think you know the answer to that." she replied, icy laughter still tinkling in her voice. "When will it end? How did it end for your wife?"

Merriment lit up her eyes and he felt himself shrink in his chair. 

"Let me ask you, my dear client, how you think your sweet, young wife felt as you bashed her skull in with those fists that I see you've still got balled up, hmm? How do you think she felt when she realized her life was slipping away, knowing there was absolutely nothing she could do to save the budding human inside of her? The tiny soul you yourself put there. You really should have used your words that day, Jackson." -Was that his mama's voice he heard? "What exactly did you think would happen after he blew a hole through you after your sordid little confession to him? That you'd float up to Heaven on a fluffy cloud? Apologize to your wife and child and skip through the pearly gates together, one big happy family? Perhaps you shouldn't have used your words that day. I have to admit though, I find it immensely humorous that your baby brother secured his spot in Heaven for essentially the same thing... well, almost the same thing. That has to smart, huh? Your own brother offing you. Anyway, tit-for-tat and all that." Yet another laugh. "This is Hell, darling. There is no end to this for you anytime soon."

He sat, slack jawed.
Once again.

"The Doctor will be in to retrieve you for your daily soul-cleansing procedure tomorrow morning at 7:30 sharp and we will continue our therapy session directly after, so get some sleep!" she said cheerily, dismissing him to his coming nightmares with a flick of her hand.

He sat perfectly still, unable to move, wishing his fate far, far away. 

Turn of the century lithograph I bought (and love).
Pic of the Pic By: Me

Submitted to the Trifecta Writing Challenge
This week's word is the 3rd definition of "WORM"
**I didn't count my words, they just came out.**


  1. Replies
    1. Thank you so much! I had fun writing it. :)

  2. Sad. This is hell. Our worse nightmares come true. Keep on telling the stories. People need to know tit for tat. Very good.

    1. Thanks! I dunno why but I find it easier to write about weird, messed up situations. Maybe because I have more experience in that area haha. :P