Music Video {Maybe?}

It was a Saturday night. Mara stared at the shadows dancing across her crimson red walls.  Trapped in a space of nothingness, she began to curse the present and regret the past. Everything that had happened to her in the past few months began to surface back and the feeling of hate overwhelmed her. The feeling of sorrow. The feeling of wondering about what might’ve been…and never getting answers. All because of him. Of him, her, and their briefly ridiculous affair. What the hell were they thinking?1

Mara couldn’t bear to think another second. Thinking was all too hard these days, when he wasn’t in the life she led. When they were together, she never had to use an ounce of her wits. Perfection had always found its way to them, even if the world was ripping at the seams of humanity.2

And now, it was gone.3

All gone.4

Anger boiled beneath her skin once again and this time, she threw the lamp onto the hardwood floor. Instantaneously, it shattered, in a mass of viciously sharp shreds of glass. Not that Mara cared. If her heart was broken into microscopic pieces, the lamp might as well be too. 5

-----6

Wrapped in an ebony satin bed sheet, Mara spent another dark evening alone in her silence. Shadows still danced among the crimson and regret still filled her soul. Then, something caught her sight. She saw a man. A man she recognized fairly well: Her ex-lover. 7

His name was Gregg. God, it was good to see him again, she admitted. Even if nothing could be reminiscent of their past. He moved closer, inching his way to the bed. Mara could smell his scent, the scent of Kelvin Klein cologne absorbed in his skin and a cheap pack of cigarettes on his breath. Her brain became so intoxicated with his aromas. She knew them all too well. 8

She smelled them, the first time they had enjoyed each other. The first time he had told her he had wanted her for the rest of their time. The first time Gregg had confessed he longed for him family once again. And, of course, the first time she slept alone, inhaling what was left of him on her pillow. Yes, she knew his aromas all too well. 9

He tore out her heart and attacked the soul inside of her the last time the two of them were this close. Could she really be stupid enough to fall for this again? As she felt his breath of her cheeks, the pulse of her wrist and the beating of her heart became unbearably fast. The answer was yes. Yes, in fact, she could. She did. The kiss was so devastatingly close. Mara could almost taste it. One single touch of the lips and her heart would be calm; rested. Except, the kiss never happened. The man disappeared into thin air and she mourned in the lonely silence once again. 10

The spirits seemed to be illusions of her days and haunt her nights. The wanting that yearned inside of Mara was more than just temptation. More than sin. Much, much, more than the broken commandments of the bible. Yes, there had to be a higher spirit than God or Satan himself. Those two didn’t obtain the power to mess with her mind quite like this.11

And Satan couldn’t possibly be guiding Gregg’s soul.
His eyes were filled with too much lust.
His words with so much anger.
His grip with too much control.
No, not even the Devil possessed that kind of power. 12

Not even the Devil .13

Swinging her legs over to the edge of the bed, Mara sat up. Her eyes caught the framed memory on the nightstand. Grasping the air inches away from the face of his mistress, the hand remained frozen. She remembered the expression he wore clearly as glass. The longing in his eyes, the hurt that shone through, the debate that full forcibly played out inside his head. That poor, confused man’s head . So close, so far. And yet, they were tangible, but no one dared to touch, to feel, to feed their desire. Forbidden fruit , she had called it.14

Forbidden fruit was right .15

As her conscience became filled with bittersweet memories of the sour relationship, her eyelids closed as the world around her turned black. 16

He returned to her head…and never seemed to leave. 17

There they were again,
She tangled in the satin sheets, he in the ghostly shadows of her home. Of her soul.
   “What are you doing here?” she asks, whispering to hide her desire.
  “Don’t you miss me?” The evil grin plastered on his face made her eyes freeze.
   “You need to go,” the woman insists, “you really need to go.”
  “Ahh, but you want me to stay,” he knew her brain. Sometimes that wasn’t a good thing. “don’t you Mara?”18

No, I don’t want you to stay.
   Or do you?
Of course not.
   Then why aren’t you running Mara?
Because I want you.
   Really?
…Yes…