Blackthorn

by J.T. Geissinger

“Being chopped to bits wouldn’t be good for my mental health, either.”

“Never be ashamed of the things that make you different. That’s where your true power lies.”

You never forget your first love. Especially when he’s also your worst nightmare.

No greater fool exists than a teenage girl ensnared in the trap of first love.

“He doesn’t take Visa. Just put everything in the casket, honey, and we’ll deal with your mental trauma later.”

“I don’t hate you, either. Not even a little bit. Not even a particle.”

“Oh, those eyes. Those lovely, spellcasting eyes. How they’ve haunted me. If only you knew the power they’ve always held over me. Maybe then you wouldn’t be so cruel, little witch.”

His pause is long enough to be uncomfortable. Then, his voice low and his gaze intense, he says, “Does our daughter know who her real father is?”

“Look at me.” “I’d rather eat glass.”

“Good morning, fair Maven. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?” “There’s no need to talk like you’re in a Shakespeare play.” “If that were the case, I would’ve said ‘good morrow.’ Isn’t it a little early to be scowling so hard?” “My retinas are trying to recover from the glare generated by this giant disco ball you live in.” I reach the front porch, stop, and gaze up at him. He’s standing one step above me and so is taller than usual. He seems to enjoy it, however, gauging by how much easier it is for him to stare condescendingly down his nose at me. He says, “Is that a smile?” “No, this is just what my face does when I smell something stinky.” “Oh good. For a second there, I thought hell had frozen over.” It’s a contest to see how long we can keep our faces straight. He wins when I start laughing. Grinning, he says, “What’s that awful noise you’re making? You sound like a herniated donkey.” “At least I don’t look like one. And stop flashing those expensive veneers at me. I’m blind enough as it is.” He makes spokesmodel hands at himself. “These teeth are natural, as is everything else about me.” “Except your ego, which was grown in a lab. Are you going to invite me in or what?” He morphs from teasing to solemn in a snap. “Oh, that’s right. Dracula needs an invitation to enter someone’s home. Please, Princess of Darkness, come in.”

“I think it’s got all the appeal of a mausoleum.” “So you like it, then. Feels like home.”

You can tell me why you came until you’re red in the face. Again, I mean. It still won’t make a difference. I won’t help you until you take your hair out of that hideous braid.” Insulted, I raise my hand to my head. “It’s not hideous. It’s utilitarian.” “Between that and the shapeless gunnysack you’re wearing, you look like you’re about to go churn butter somewhere. Or reshoe the old mare.”

“Beautiful things shouldn’t be hidden.

“I’m going to kill you in your sleep. I’m going to sneak in through a window in the middle of the night, find something pointy and lethal in this antiseptic glass box you call a home, and plunge it straight into your chest, over and over, until you’re so dead, you’ll never remember you were ever alive.” “Really?” “Yes!” “Hmm. Sounds serious.”

“There she is. Hello, stranger. I’ve missed you so fucking much.”

“Please stop gloating. It’s giving me indigestion.”

“Fuck, I love it when you’re homicidal.” “I’d say I love it when you’re silent, but as that’s never happened before…”

“How did you know I blocked your number?” “Same way I know how to make you come.”

“I suppose it depends on your definition of trouble.” “Have you been arrested?” “No.” “Have you been injured?” “No.” “Are you being held at gunpoint by a band of naked circus clowns demanding you hand over your sensible shoes and hideous clothing?” “No. Stop trying to make me laugh.” “I’m sorry. No, that was a lie. I’m not sorry. I love your laugh. It sounds like sunlight.”

“When are you coming back over to my house for another hate fuck?” “Never!” Ignoring that, he growls, “Because I’ll make sure to put clean sheets on the bed. I haven’t changed them since you were here. I love having the scent of your skin all over me.”

“I know why you’re calling.” I pause to take a breath because he sounds smug again. “It’s not for that.” “Of course it is. You’ll have some other fake reason to trot out first so you can save face, but it’s totally for that.” He pauses. “‘That’ being a euphemism for sex.” “I know what you meant, you wanker.”

“If I told you I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember, would you believe me?”

“But if you’re still here, I’ll consider it your tacit acceptance that you’re mine, and I’ll never let you go. Not even if you beg me to. And you will, Maven. Once you know everything, you’ll beg to be set free. But it will be too late. Once I claim you, you’re mine forever.” His eyes are dark and endless as he repeats my words. “Not even God can keep you safe from me.”

“I have chosen sides, Father. I’m on the side of science, which never encourages war, rape, murder, genocide, or human sacrifice in the name of dogma. I’ve read your ‘holy’ Bible. Cover to cover, as a matter of fact. It’s an indefensible work of fiction that espouses violence and intolerance. Your god isn’t a just one, and he’s not deserving of worship.”

insert eyeroll GIF.