To be quite honest, she had no idea why she had done it in the first
place. The barn was in flames, the roof collapsing in itself, and the stench
of burning wood was thick in her nose. Her hands tingled nastily from
where flesh was blackened and bloody. The atmosphere was chaotic with
the screams of the horses still inside the barn, burning alive.
She stared at her hands, realizing dumbly that her flesh was raw and
bleeding, that smoke was curling out delicately from beneath her
fingernails. The tingling was unnerving; she almost wished that real pain
would hit her, to make her suffer for what she had done. So that she could
feel something other than dark numbness.
How had it happened? Just her and Johnny in the loft, the horses
below shuffeling contentedly as they went about the daily ritual of eating.
Johnny had ... touched her. Slid his hands up her shirt, fingertips resting
lightly on her... She had kissed him. She had liked what he was doing,
even if she could hear her father's voice in the back of her mind, telling her
No.
Her shirt had .... fallen off. He'd taken off his belt and his shirt too.
She kissed him again and snuck a hand down his pants.
Now she stood outside the barn clutching the remnants of her shirt
to her bosom, her face ashen and her hands bloody. A scream scratched at
her throat, wanting to be released, but her voice was gone. I'm in shock,
she realized, and closed her eyes.
She wanted to cry. She hadn't meant to do it. Johnny, Johnny..
where was he? Seemed so beautiful.. so full of life.. so soft..
She sighed and felt a tear escape down her cheek. The horses had
stopped screaming now. Voices were all around her, insistant and
frightened. Two hands had her by the shoulders, shaking her. They were
asking her questions, stupid questions. She opened her eyes, hoping it was
Johnny who was shaking her and asking her stupid questions.
It wasn't.
Disappointed, she turned away and meandered aimlessly a few steps.
Her feet were bare; despite the inferno not far away, the grass was cool and
moist, soothing some of the scratches that nagged the bottoms of her feet.
Slowly she sat down, a wetness forming on her rear. She looked. A
puddle. She closed her eyes.
Johnny was kissing her again. Slowly, gently.. her hand had slipped
out of his pants, now wound about his back. He was touching her again,
and she kissed him harder to show how good he made her feel. She loved
him in the distant sort of way only a girl could.
The tingling in her hands became painful. She opened her eyes
again, hoping to see Johnny there holding them, but again she was
disappointed. Mother. She looked very old and worn, kneeling across
from her as she started to bandage her bloody hands. Her bloody hands.
A shaky cry escaped her and her mother looked up. She stared back
with bloodshot eyes filling with tears, the cry turning into a sob.
"J-Johnny.." Her whisper was ragged and hoarse.
Her mother's eyes liquefied and she swept her into an embrace. "Oh,
honey.." she murmured as she stroked her hair.
The cigarette. Johnny pulling away from her, laughing kindly at her
protest. He waved her back as he pulled a crinkled package from his
pocket - a condom. A shy smile crept across her face. She blushed and he
laughed awkwardly. She giggled nervously as he struggled to open it, then
handed it to her to try while he dug out a cigarette.
The cigarette.
"Mommy..." She sounded like a little girl. Her hands weren't
bloody anymore, wrapped in white gauze. Red peeked through here and
there, but that was okay. "Mommy, I.. I..."
"It's okay, honey. It's going to be okay."
She had given up on the condom and kissed him again. He was
surprised, but she did it anyway. Johnny dropped the smoking cigarette as
he kissed her back.
The straw caught on fire. Flames leapt about them. She was
screaming, holding on to Johnny, afraid to let go. He was high off his ass
and didn't know what he was doing. The fire ate away the floor. Johnny
started to fell and somehow, she caught him.
The f ire hurt her. She was holding on to his hands, promising she
wouldn't let go, screaming to God that she was sorry and she would never
do it again, if he would just not let her let him go. The horses were
screaming. The fire ate away at her hands, turning them black and red.
Tears burned at her eyes.
"J-Johnny... Oh god..." She curled into her mother's arms, hugging
her black and red hands to her chest. "Oh God.. Johnny.."
The end.
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