Natural American Sex

Natural American Sex

She screams "It’s your mother’s birthday, wouldn’t it be nice to give her a call?" I say I will and I don’t. She screams "Remember to take your pills every four hours!" I say I will but what is said is not always what is done. She screams "Sing me a song Ryan, you’ve got such a beautiful voice!" I say I will when I am finished my work. Then she says, ever so softly, "Why did you come home so late last night?" I can’t answer Laura’s question.
* * *
I watch the sphere form from the tear made by the mouth of the blade. I watch it seep and flow, turning within it, and with each revolution the drop increases in diameter. There is a slight sting from the blade, but my interest in its liquid offspring makes me forget any discomfort. Sweat would indicate tension concerning my decision, but the sweat is absent. I know exactly what propelled me to this point. There’s no need for me to count to three, to take a deep breath, or anything. I am calm, ready, excited. The blade tears cleanly down my arm with a fire that forces my heart to nudge upwards, jostling my brain in clear protest of my actions. It is different than I thought it would be; the pain makes me dizzy and turns my stomach. Again I am forced to languish in the beauty of the stream pumping from my arm. It is not a part of me anymore but a broken water main just set to surge. The loud pumping flow takes me by the arm and twists, forcing me to the ground. I shudder once, and then I am still. Laying here on the cool tile, whispering nonsense, crying softly, and watching the elegant red spread puts me at peace.
“This is exactly where I want to be.” I hear myself whisper as my tongue begins to lose feeling and work against my throat. The room is slowly turning around me, the arm undulating next to me, the black covering my eyes, and in this moment I find enlightenment. My eyes close only to bounce open again a second later in a faded memory.
All I could see were cold blue lips as I cracked my eyes to the morning sunlight. I’d always imagined I’d be kinda sick at the sight of a dead body, especially if it was my girlfriend, but I didn’t get sick. She was close enough that I could have kissed her without moving; close enough that my breath made the curl that found its place on her cheek rattle in contrast to the eerie stillness of her body. I don’t know if it was because I was still tired, or I just never really loved her, but her being dead wasn’t enough reason to get out of bed. The voices outside my apartment were, however, reason enough and I moved over Sarah so quickly that her body fell to the floor. I figured whoever was outside may not have heard the creaking complaints of the bed springs, but they had to have heard the body as it made its dull parade hitting the floor so I slipped under the bed. All I could see from under the bed was her arm in front of me covering most of her face. Hairs like blades of grass flowed from her wrist to her shoulder; they were light brown and looked frail. We were nearly face to face, so close that my breath’d be sure to wake her if she wasn’t dead. In the dreadful silence I watched the hairs on her arm shiver in unison with my stuttered exhale. She couldn’t have been dead long because when I breathed in there was no stench. Her skin smelled just as good as it had when she was alive. The voices began talking again outside my apartment but I still stayed tense. My eyes moved up Sarah’s skin, mapping her freckles like stepping stones on an empty streambed and she was surrounded by blue: blue sheets hanging off the bed, blue vein protruding like a subway near her hand, I could smell the sting of her perfume and I knew it was from that blue bottle on her vanity, and even the morning threw blue light into the room through the window beside the bed. The blue consumed me and I think maybe that’s what happened to her too. She was too blue and someone found out, someone important; and that someone sent an equally blue man with a gun to send her into a blue oblivion. Frozen in my place under the bed as I pondered I heard the sirens begin to roar. I saw the lights in my head going from red to blue and back again. "Why do we fall in love?" I asked myself over the growing noise. Finally the sirens began to drown out my thoughts and I had to yell it out again "WHY DO WE FALL IN LOVE?!" I could see the letters echoing off the walls and out of the window to the waiting ears of the raw American public. The sirens stopped but I knew that the lights were still moving. The wooden sound of a giant centipede making its way up the main stairwell in the apartment building brought me to action. I moved Sarah over and slid out from under the bed. Desperately each object in the room proved too obvious a hiding spot for me so I turned to the only place I figured I could fit. I pried opened Sarah’s mouth with two fingers from each hand; she was starting to get stiff. It was hard at first, but the harder I pulled the easier it got and eventually her mouth widened enough to allow me entry. Her face was sickly broad and hid her beauty but it was the only place left. I put one foot onto her tongue and then hesitated. I could taste the bottom of my shoe on my tongue, rubber and all. I reminded myself that Sarah couldn’t taste anymore and proceeded. I began to force the toe of my shoe down her throat. Again it was difficult at first but her throat eventually relented and the rest of my bottom half went in easily. They were trying to break down her door, I could hear them. The police would be inside soon and I needed to become nothing quick. I placed my hands on the inner rim of Sarah’s mouth and began to pull myself down into her, bringing her mouth closed and size back to normal as I went. Finally slipping my head through I began to fill in the appendages where Sarah used to be. I had always been bigger than her by just a bit so she fit somewhat well. I let my hands flow down into the slimy depths of her fingers, allowed my lips to fit into her cold ones, felt my mid section find a clammy yet comfortable place in the wet mess, and I became Sarah.
I sat in the stillness and the calm, feeling what it was like to be dead. I couldn’t breathe and it scared me; what was worse was that I couldn’t feel. It wasn’t like having a cramp, it was like I’d never felt anything before and I was trying to grasp what it meant. I was nothing. I couldn’t hear or see; my senses were nothing. The police officers finally made it into the room and, unbeknownst to me, had gathered around my body. I tried desperately to take a breath and against all odds I began to feel my throat opening up again. Raspy at first, I began to make my first struggles at breathing. Finally it came and my new body arched upwards violently, my eyes opened, and I took in all the air I could. I just kept on breathing until all the air in the room was gone, causing the police officers around me to shudder and collapse. They fell to the ground with a plastic sounding clatter. When I finally finished breathing I fell back to the ground and had an epiphany. I was naked. Full chested and missing my normal lower apparatus I was lost. I scrambled over the collapsed cops to my feet and searched the closet for some clothes. I looked to the bras and blouses and decided against them, fitting my own white t-shirt and jeans instead. I barreled out of the room and onto the stairs taking them 3 at a time and hitting hard on the balls of my uncovered feet; her uncovered feet. I was in a panic. I was in the body of a woman who I had found dead. I stepped onto the street and attempted to enter Sarah’s car from the street side door. I fumbled with the keys to the door of her brown paneled station wagon (a car much unfitted for her lifestyle), making the keys ring as I attempted to unlock the door. My hands still weren’t used to Sarah’s and I dropped the keys onto the white dividing line and bent over to pick them up. I was in a terrible rush and I didn’t know why. The paint was fresh and had gotten on my fingers as I retrieved the keys. I finally managed to open up the door and I started the car. I was off into the suburbs away from the mess I had left behind. The city rolled up into a bundle of rubbish as I made my way to my house. The pure wholesome aura of suburbia couldn’t shake the vile coldness that I still felt between my skin and Sarah’s. She began to feel like a tight sweater that you couldn’t take off because you didn’t have something on under it. I had a fear that my constant fidgeting would give me away. As I neared my house I began to look at my neighbors as I sped by. "Do they know it’s me?" Of course they couldn’t possibly know. There was no giant conspiracy consisting of white slate house dwelling suburbanites to frame me. I was safe for a moment and a confident smile found a home on my face. As my mouth widened to catch the smile, Sarah’s face gave like a rubber mask to fit its shape and creased. The familiar milk colored mailbox was ready to allow me to go by when I realized I was passing my house and I swerved. Sarah’s car dug through the lawn and waltzed its way through my front door, regardless of my attempts to turn its course. The stone stopped most of the car but the part I was in made it into the house. Regardless of the cuts and bruises my first objective was to find Laura, she’d know what to do. My first objective was realized in seconds as she came out of the kitchen to see what had just destroyed her front lawn. I clamored over broken glass, twisted metal, and slate glinting in the sun to end up at Laura’s feet. I looked up at her from my knees and she gasped. Her face blanched white and her eyes began to roll back as she began to reach out with one hand for any air that could be stuffed down her lungs. She could no longer support herself and fell onto the broken car hood. She clutched at her heart and began to breathe rapidly. She made noises and motions as if she were throwing up though it seemed as if she were trying to speak. I pressed my ear to her lips and heard a guttural whisper: I killed you…I drew back in shock, Laura had known all along. I stood there and watched as she kept gasping for air, getting weaker and weaker, until she stopped altogether. Her eyes rolled back again hiding her pupils and she lay still. I stood there for the longest time just watching her pale body. Any sadness was overshadowed by the shock of my wife’s final words. I placed Sarah’s arm over her head and reached into her mouth with her hand. I put her other hand over her bottom jaw and began to pull my Sarah suit off. The jaw widened like before and my head began its ascent towards the light. Her esophagus was tight and I made a triumphant wet sucking sound against its walls as my head was reborn. I forced her body down like she was a tight dress, shaking my hips as she went down. When I’d finally gotten her off, Sarah’s body snapped back into proper shape. I was covered in slime of all kinds and I was depressed. The two most important women in my life lay before me dead on a pile of pallid stone. What I did next was an easy decision. I went to my work station in the next room and calmly removed the box cutter. I looked to the top of the stairs and proceeded to take them one by one. I swallowed the lump in my throat and proceeded to the upstairs bathroom.

Police Report
Three bodies were found in a San Francisco home. The first body is of a Ms. Sarah Kane. She was found nearest to what used to be the front door of the house. Ligature marks on Ms. Kane are consistent with the hand size and epithelials of Mrs. Laura Brookestone. Ms. Kane’s neck also showed a blue discoloration. Cause of death is determined as strangulation. Mrs. Brookestone was found on the hood of the 1986 Station Wagon that was parked in the living room of the Brookestone residence. Mrs. Brookestone had clear signs of Thrombotic Stroke. Mrs. Brookestone’s blood clot had signs of advanced acceleration near time of death. Cause of death is determined as loss of oxygen to the brain due to stroke. Mr. Ryan Brookestone, husband of Mrs. Laura Brookestone, was found in the bathroom on the second floor of the house. Mr. Brookestone’s arms had self inflicted lengthwise lacerations. Cause of death is determined as intentional suicide. Case Closed.