Dark Notes

by Pam Godwin

At seventeen, I don’t know a lot about the world, but I find that being unwanted and unhappy is harder to endure than having nothing to eat.

My chest tightens. The prettiest ones have the ugliest insides. But I’m pretty, aren’t I? I’m told I am, less so by people I trust and more often by people I don’t. Maybe my insides are ugly, too.

She’s exactly the kind of woman I’m drawn to. A woman who flees when hunted and comes alive when she’s caught. A woman who bends beneath punishments and seeks acceptance in her humiliation. A woman who bites at a heavy hand, only to melt around the unforgiving grip when it cuts her air.

Nothing is inconceivable, and everything is possible. The proof is in the magic of music.

He’s not just a cat. Schubert is the last gift my dad gave me before he died. He’s the only living form of love I have left to wrap my arms around.

It’s universally known that the more forbidden something is, the more desirable it becomes.

“Sometimes you love people you shouldn’t, and in the endless space of that love, nothing else matters.”

My infatuation might be ridiculous, but it’s no less real. I’m completely and thoroughly hypnotized by her.

I want to connect with a man the way I want my music to connect with an audience. Emotionally. Profoundly. Innately.

She’s in my veins, fiery and weightless. She’s in my head, like a whisper of promises. She’s in my heart, softening it, mending it, and making it pump again.

I swear her heart is wrapped around mine, stretching and purring and rubbing against the walls of my chest. It’s exhilarating and terrifying, the way she sneaked inside me so swiftly.

I want you. I wait for you. You have me.

I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want her. Not just her body. I want her everything. She is the strongest emotion I’ve ever felt.

Smiling is as much a part of me as the clothes he picks out, the pain he pleasures me with, and the music he resonates in my heart.