Under Const'n

As I wait here alone,1

She is there (always there),2

Walking and haunting the Night....3

I wait by my window as the world softly sleeps. Almost that time. The people around me, they have no idea how she drives me mad....drives me into a delightful and dizzying dementia with the coming of each night. She tortures me....with and without her presence. I loathe her. And yet I silently wait--eagerly, hungrilly--for her standard arrival. For I know that she will come. She WILL.4

She comes by whisper, arrives by the shadows on my walls. Slim shadows take form, the form of a woman....a breathtaking and utterly sadistic creature, given the unbidden duty of haunting my dreams.5

"Hello there, little girl...." she coos, like a mother. So much more like a mother than like the deranged lover that she is.6

She stoops beside me, chin reaching about the height of my belly. She stares at me, her eyes BLACK, black as the dead. I would die before breaking that stare, the horror welling up within me causing by heart to strangle me. I begin to shake slightly. Her white skin seems to glow behind shadow, she grins closed lipped up at me. Those dark lips, I want them to be on me. And yet, I fear them above all else.7

She moves as if to stand, and STOPS halfway up. Tearing brutally the back of my shirt, those nails bite horribly into my skin. It hurts. With a stregnth that seems beyond her, she tears the neatly pressed buttondown shirt from me completely....but I know her, know the multitude of stregnth that she posesses beneath her perfect hourglass frame. My tie falls bare over a modest bra, she turns me around and throws me down on the carpet. I try to scream, but it is trapped somewhere between my lungs and throat. I attempt to struggle as she sits on top of me, but somehow her weight presses me down, holds my face and arms against the floor. A tiny dagger--pulled seemingly from nowhere--catches the light [light from WHERE, is the question], as she brings it down slowly, slowly.....from my right shoulder blade she makes an incision diagonaly; simultaneously cuts my bra away, my flesh--the outer pant-leg of my left hip, all the way around to my thigh....OH! IT HURTS! But as it does, the pain fascinates me. It is warm--no, hot! Falling first in droplets and then in rivulates, soaking the carpet beneath me.8

I can hear her let out a breath in a mocking chuckle.9

She lies on top of me, pressing the bare flesh of her stomach to that of my searing own. She holds me down, and chin rested tenderly on my shoulder, whispers in my ear, "well...what would you like to do now?"10

I grin inwardly yet put on big, fearful eyes outwardly, because I know what's coming next. She grins, very much on the surface, standing, pulling me up with her.