Flight

Flight

5/7/2011

Word Count: 1,400

         Today I have merged with the sky. I have moved ahead of the world. What has happened? Sleep has left my eyes. Dreams have joined my nights. Where have I turned and reached? Are my feet on the earth? Or in the sky? The stars are entangled in my cloth. I have lived my life whole life for this single moment. Nothing remains in my future now.

         I am Rouge DeRubis. I have finally succeeded in my mission of paying back my propriétaire, Monsieur Soir Teinte. As I walk down this solemn, judgmental hall, my onyx heels stab the floor. With each stabbing step, the floor screams in pain. Even the light cannot avoid my touch now; my sequins absorb any light and force it to shine as brilliantly as it can, without any regard for limits or power. Despite having been incarcerated for seemingly éternité, I am still as beautiful and deadly as I was before.

         My innocent chocolate hair is wrapped up in a bun, and my benign blue eyeshadow lies to my customers, allowing them to believe that I will be as passive as the ocean. Only the smart look past that facade and notice the deadly and venomous black I have equipped on me, and the fiery red I have blooded onto my clothing. My spider webbed gloves present an elusive beauty that intoxicates danger.

         I take several short steps, just to hear the floor scream in pain and terror again. It fills my blood with such joy and happiness, I cannot even begin to explain the assouvissement I receive from this pulverizing action. I wish men were this easy to trample. But I laugh. I realize they are. They listen to their hearts when they should listen to their groin, and listen to their groin when they should be listening to their hearts. I cannot believe men are so weak. History has always depicted them as the stronger sex, yet in reality, they are weaker than a newborn baby. A newborn baby can command an adult to be violently throttled from their dreams and attend to the babies. A woman can leave a man right at the peak and make them do the work.

         "Aujourd'hui, nous sommes ici pour le procès de Mlle Rouge DeRubis". I giggle like a little girl when I hear my name. According to Monsieur Soir Teinte, I was the Red Ruby of his collection. I shone like no other, and he could never replace me. If his brothel was the crown of his life, I was the jewel of the crown. I made him important. But he cannot give me all the thanks. He will never have realized it was because of him I am where I was yesterday. I remember it every time I have someone inside of me, attempting to give me a gift. No one could have gifted me like Monsieur Soir Teinte.

         "J'ai besoin de dix euros". That was all I asked him for. Seventy Euros. In reality, I simply needed a sexual amount of sixty-nine, but superstition kept me in its grasp and squeezed me to ask for seventy. He gave it to me, like no other man could have. He didn't thrust it, he didn't push it, he didn't simply force it. He sincerely did his best to allocate it to me. He was like no other propriétaire I have ever had. Most would have made me purchase make-up to further cover the bruises I sustained. He smiled brightly and gave me the money. This was fourty years ago. Fourteen thousand, six hundred and nine days. Three hundred fifty, six hundred thirty two thousand hours. Twenty one million, thirty seven thousand, nine hundred fifty minutes. After all this time, I'm sure he would have smiled that I remember.

         I did not mean to hear him. I really did not. I happened to be running from an angry customer, who demanded I do the most foulest thing with him, which I refused to do. Damn it, I was a princess. He could not force me. Anyways, I ran as fast as I could in my onyx heels, and found myself mesmerized by this Cathédrale. The Cathedral sang out to me like doves, and so I swam in there, despite the invisible currents. Once there, I found myself outside a box. I saw it held two doors, and like my life, I always picked the left one. I am so happy I did. I sat in there, and heard weeping. Before I could say anything, I heard him. After fourty years, I heard my Monsieur.

         Qu'ai-je fait de mal? Je voulais la protéger. Elle est ma petite-fille seulement.. What did he do wrong? Who did he want to protect? He had a granddaughter? These filled me with different emotions. Terreurs, amour, la déception, la curiosité, la jalousie, et l'espoir.. Terror, Love, Disappointment, Curiosity, Jealousy, and Hope. But I did not say a word. I wanted to, but I did not. He kept on sobbing. I learned that his granddaughter, Joyau, had been captured by a ruthless gang called the Épines. They had, to his knowledge, raped, molested, and beaten her to no end. It was because of his political career, which I shamefully knew very little about. I knew he had won many accolades, and I enjoyed watching him on TV while deviously blushing in thought of what lay under that prestigious suit.

         He thanked me as if I was his pious Father, and left me. I sat there with a smile. Adjusting my ruby scarf, and my innocent bun, I got up and prepared my ascension; my flight. I knew where this was going, why it was going this way, and before I left, I thanked God. He finally gave me my final customer in life, and for once, I did not have to take a pill, throw up, or be beaten in any way for it. It was the most romantic job of my career.

         Grabbing a gun from the black market, I passed by the Cathedral again. It was so funny. The word pourriture meant so much, and so little. Corruption was the lack of integrity or honesty, especially susceptibility to bribery, with a use of a position of trust for dishonest gain. The black market lay next to, not under, the Cathedral. It was as funny as the fact that the Prime Minister was the head of the Épines. I knew this for one time, I received a platinum order.

         They did not expect a thing, those poor boys. I came in, like their usual catch of the day, but they did not know that instead of catching a long, slender salmon, they caught a wild, thrashing shark. I shot each and every one of them, including the Prime Minister, and found Joyau. Her eyes had been blinded by powder, and I kissed each lid, as she trembled and cried onto my bare arm. I caressed her as if she was my own daughter, and led her out. I called for a taxi, and directed her in it. I knew the taxi driver, for he was also a frequent customer, and trusted him to take her home. I reminded him that I could castrate him within seconds if I found out he disobeyed my order. With that, I saw his rusty car exhale black exhaust. And in the midst of that blackness was borne an array of police cars. I laughed with a smile. For ending corruption, I go to jail.

         I finally hear what I wanted to hear. I was to be executed. I am excited. I am tired of this mundane life. I am tired of this mundane life. I was tired of this mundane life. I was excited. I was to be excited. I finally heard what I wanted.

         I was free to fly. I had no more obligations. I had nothing left.

         Today I have merged with the sky. I have moved ahead of the world. Sleep has left my eyes. Dreams have joined my nights. My feet are on the Earth and in the sky. The stars are entangled in my cloth. I have lived my life whole life for this single moment. Nothing remains in my future now.