beccaxfaith

It’s 9:07 p.m. Showtime. They don’t know that I know, but I do. I’ve been on to them from the beginning. They think I don’t hear the perverse echoes of their voices wafting up from the alleyway. They think they’re hidden as they bend the shadows of dumpsters and homeless cats for camouflage. I hear their laughter in my head as they noiselessly scale the crumbling bricks to my fourth floor flat. My face pressed against the cloudy windowpane, I fervently wait; they won’t outsmart me this time. And then I hear a knock at the door. It’s them. I know it. But do I answer o

Sharp blue-gray eyes rimmed in countless layers of kohl and mascara scorn me; they pierce through me full of judgment and self-loathing. Manicured fingers rap the marble countertop. A white-knuckling grip steadies her as she leans over the polished sink, her face as close as a lover’s. A subconscious sigh and suddenly she jerks herself away, but still a moment too late. Her breath, thick with guilt and the lingering plateful-of-food scent fogs my brutally honest face, incriminating her. This abrasive front, her scrutinizing shell, peels away like last year’s paint as she collapses to the tile. Tears snake

Tonight, I am tracing the lines the shadows make on the walls of my bedroom and marking them to match the enflamed block-letters of my clock. Sitting to examine my masterpiece, I notice the only shadow I can never imprison; it moves like me, swaying gently as it precariously perches on the edge of an unused bed. The shadow keeps perfect time as I twitch slightly at the onset of an optimistically set alarm clock; time to make the coffee, Brazilian roast, your favorite. Impatient, I examine the irregular stream of caffeinated elixir as it fills the carafe to the two cups line. As it crosses the finish line I mash

Malpractice There she is, bound by a crisp cocoon of white sheets beneath a tangled lacing of IV’s and miscellaneous wires. A mangled mass of auburn curls explode from the bloody bandages circling her head like a horror-film halo. She has more needles in her arms than the most insatiable heroin addict. And yet amidst the chaos of test results, the buzzing monitors, the whispered worries, she wears a strangely knowing grin. How can she smile so? She must not know the state she’s in, her ragdoll body   invaded with tubes and antibiotics in a futile attempt to provoke a response, anything to show she is st

I laugh nervously as your eyes flash with momentary annoyance. How easily those words fell from my lips, the habit I can’t shake. Funny how some things break easier than others… But I press on, trying to amend my transgression, my fall from grace. But no amount of banter, of sweet smiles and rosy kisses, Will lift me up from where I’ve fallen. Because you do not forget, you will not, I see it In the frustration that wrinkles your forehead. You force a smile at me, but your happiness is gone, It lies there on the floor beside me, the memory of me. Falling was never so painful…  And now I begin to understand T