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Lily: |
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The bar was dark. It didn't matter much, I could see what I needed. Even when the flare of a lighter and thick clove-scented smoke caused my eyes to blink and tear, I could see my reflection in the mirror clearly over the bottles. And knew myself for what I was. The same wasn't true for my companions, they were too young to see anything at all. They tried and tested life, rejected and embraced ideals. I found them both amusing and tiresome at the same time. But they accepted me fully as the real thing, even when my clothes and actions didn't always mirror theirs. My life was darkness and darkness was what they said they wanted. Fools. All of them fools. That night we played a game, we always played games. I didn't usually join in, but this one, in particular, interested me. Smiling at my reflection in the mirror, I ran my fingers through my closely-cropped red hair, downed my Pernod and knew I'd win. "Earliest childhood remembrance, right?" The boy who called himself Hyde began. "I guess I was about three and I fell down and cut my knee. I watched the blood run down my leg and put a finger in it and tasted it and liked it." He licked his lips and smiled what I guessed he considered a wicked grin. "I liked it a lot and went back for more. Then it started to hurt and I cried. My mother picked me up and cleaned it off, the bandage had pictures on it. But I liked the blood better." One after another they told their stories, childhood woes of despair and pain, disillusionment and deaths, grandmothers' funerals and hospital bleakness. When they had all finished Hyde turned toward me and touched me, tracing the black rose tattooed on my shoulder. "Okay, Lily, love, your turn. What's your earliest childhood remembrance?" A smile twisted my mouth. "Interesting that you should ask, Hyde." My voice was quiet, pitched almost to a whisper, but they all stopped to listen. From behind the bar, Moon gave me an admonishing glance, but I winked at her and shook my head, sending her the message that it didn't matter. They'd never believe what I had to say. "Go on, then, Lily, tell us." I looked each of them in the eyes before I started and when I was sure I held them, I spoke. "One night, my first night of awareness, I wake to darkness and death and the dirt of the grave. How long I've been here, inhaling the corrupted odors of the surrounding dead, I don't know. But I know that I have to get out." I paused a bit for effect and Moon filled my glass. As I swallowed it and continued, the memories took hold and my voice filled with desperation. "I have to get out." I hissed the words. "Get out. I am suffocating. Dying again. I do not want to die. Not again. I claw through the cheap wood of my coffin, splinters piercing my tender baby hands, blood dripping onto my face and into my mouth as I struggle, giving me strength, feeding my desire. Finally I break out and tunnel through the compacted earth up to the surface. It's a long way, and I feel like I've been digging forever. My shroud eventually falls away in tatters, scraped away by the dirt. And when I emerge into the night, my second birth, I am naked, shining lily white in the light of the moon, squalling after life and the bitch of a mother who left me for dead." |