Beast 0.5

iv.

At the kitchen table. Thin, steady drip of the sink, bottoms of my feet are itching, flies squabbling. Dizzy orbits. Hairy black bodies, engorged like nostrils. Tapping at the glass, frantic for a light source. Probing. Slick on my skin. Congregating at the corners of my eyes. Studying the moon of my belly. My fingers are papery hives. Jittery, drumming on the tabletop. Head is thumping, thumping and then there's the punching at my gut. I think I'll rot here on this chair. I'll rot here in this kitchen. Breathing heavy. Itchy feet, itchy ears. The drugged, drowsy heat. Gotta stay awake, gotta stay awake or, godssakes, it’s gonna kill me. Drawn, flowerprint curtains hushing the sunlight, turning it yellow and crass as a whore. The shadows are lipstick. The smutty smears. My eyes are blurry. The TV is still off in the other room. Its face is black, mute. Don't think I could take another minute of the drunk, glitzy cartoons. The bulbed faces, fat caricatures, laughinglaughinglaughing. Hahahahaha. High giggling in my ears, just need to rest my eyes, rest my tired eyes. Let it pass. Flies sharp and tireless as syllables.

Fingers up my stomach.

Cleaning me out, some sloppy-gutted pumpkin.

Getting bigger, swollen head, swollen smile. Hitting me with these contractions. Clinging, lulling parasite. With its human hands and human toes. Bill's almost home. Walk in the door, kick off his shoes, smelling of gasoline and weed. Cheeks full, eyes bulging. His mouth like an anthill, the busy, abdominal words crawling out, always crawling out, to harvest me away.

This place.

This place is infested.

But don't tell no one. Don't wake it up. Be as still as possible, silent as possible and the beast, the queen ant feeds quietly. Gnawing on my heartbeats like apple cores. Plopping out its miseries; white, capsular eggs.

(i dont know what im gonna do, its in my head, eating my belly, inside out, creeping up my throat, sweeping eyes, whisperwhisper, dumb cartoon laughs in my head, bouncing around. and its tiny fingers wrapping around my intestines [hahahahaha], words words words, gotta do something, gotta cut out the bad parts like momma says to do. its poison, i tell you, poison. suck it out, hollow it out. cut it out. Bru[hahahahaha]ises on my arms, flies on the wall, beady, glassy eyes, watching me through their damp prisons)

hahahahaha.

th-th-th-that's all folks!

I get up. Gotta get up. The beast sags in my belly. Curtains transparent as baby heads. Cut it out. Weed it out. Twining, rooted fingers, penetrating like surgeons. To the sink, metal taste in my mouth. Air squeezing through my nostrils, constricted breathing. There's something in the living room, I can hear it. Bubbling, gurgling, burping. Mewling and puking. The gossamer spit-up, the nippled baby bottles. Crying, wailing, the fat, ticking siren, the perpetual cartoons. Eh, what's up doc? Big, shiny eyes, fat as unopened blossoms. Beast, beast. The hungry, pitted mouth. Nervous lips, clinging frost and the knobby gums. Cut it out. Pull it out. For God's sake, end the poison!

ha.

ha.

ha.

I open the drawer. Knives and spoons and forks, arrayed and stemmed. The demented light, spilling. Cut it out. Split it open, the wide-faced moon. The thick, splurging skin, pale radiation. Fingers curling like dragonfly bodies. Around a knife. Big and clean. Gotta hold it. Gotta cut it out. Doc, doc, dok, doktor. Spill me open, doktor with the white hands and the dapper gold watch. ha. Slit me open clean, like the whitest, tenderest throat. ha.

I hold the knife.

Hold it over my stomach.

Flies, murmuring.

Someone at the door, rattling keys, the sullen doorknob. Bill walks in. Sees knife, sees belly. His face undergoes a slow transition. The pulling lips, the sleazy eyelids.

The beast kicks gently.

v.

I hold the phone, bulky and cumbersome, dial the number. Slow breaths, unfocused eyes. Don’t think, just do. Ring, ring, ring – monotonous tones match the beat of my heart, slow. Grasp it tight, slippery fingers.

‘Hello?’ Weary, soft, wreathed in static – not how I imagined, not at all.

‘Ma?’ Swallow; bitter taste, dry throat.

‘…Who is this? Is this some kind of joke?’ Rise of bile, acrid anger – more her, this fire. I close my eyes.

‘If it is, its too damn funny…too funny,’ I sigh. Tired eyelids weigh more than mountains, can’t lift them. Gotta live in the black.

‘Chloe…is that you? Truly?’ Was that hope in her voice? Querulous, awful hope dragging the words down with anticipation? Couldn’t be right, couldn’t be her – none of this was right.

‘You remember me?’ Sandpaper tongue, cement teeth – so dry, lick lips gone fat and puffy.

‘…What? Honey, what are you saying? Of course, I do.’

Tears leak from swollen orbs.

‘Good. That’s good. Bye, Ma.’

Phone drops, striped red, bangs into the floor. The sound reverberates. The room spins to the echoes. Beneath it, the chorus: click, tick, click, tick, click. Keeping me here, the twirling arms of the fan, the anal clock. Eyes flutter open; see the river, the lake, the ocean of gleaming red – who knew there was so much? Move forward, so light, hollowbones free of hate, not hard at all now. Can’t stay here, not with that sound; why’s this place still housing me after what I done? Should be pushing me out after all that racket, bleeding raw throat, sallow cheeks and all. The kitchen up ahead, can’t go there; light burns over the tiles, the swirling red, covering that horrible cold lump. Didn’t weigh a thing after all. So heavy inside, so light out – how’s that make any sense?

Turn here, down the hall, into the garage. The red monster’s gone, gone with Bill godknowswhere, gone forever, gone for good I hope. Still remember the look, the bull-mad eyes, the fire in his voice and the promise, oh the promise of pain and retribution. Wasn’t enough; ripped the knife in, cut deep. Squish, squish, gut a fish. Hahahahaha. Fire doused, threats gone, just horror in his bugged, twitchin’ eyes.

What you done, woman? Oh gods almighty, whatchu done?

Voice scraped thin with madness, couldn’t stand the screams or the laughter or what, but the punches came and the kicks. He was crying, remember that too. Managed to get it out, between the gasps and the giggles. Once he stopped; lying empty on the ground I stared at one, tiny fleck of blood on the white wall. His eyes must’ve been wild or empty as mine or what. Arms by his side. Just looking at the wall ahead. Don’t look at the elephant in the room. It can’t exist.

‘Who you think they gonna blame?’ Red whispers fluttering up.

‘Don’t you speak to me, you devil, don’t you dare speak. Don’t. No words.’

I say it again, giggle. And again and again, laughing all the more, all the harder. Hahahahaha. Little cartoons dancing around, always having fun. And it dawns on him, microscopic at first, little mushrooms of understanding blooming in his eyes. The blood on his knuckles, seeping into his shirt, his trousers, into his dark records. He was gone after that, the drunk husband fleeing the cops that hadn’t arrived yet. In the dark now, stumbling down the stairs – no pain, not feeling so feather light anymore, just numb. Heavy. Open the door of the little Daihatsu, sidle in, start the ignition. Moonlit roads beckon, beyond; clean and crisp air to be breathed. Desert hills swim into the distance, milk white tinged blue by the night. The world blurs for a minute.

Feet crunch on sand, shift, slide, dance.

Shrubs painted black in the night, in the shadow of hills.

Climb higher, breathe faster. One last thing to do, fingers scrabbling, clawing; slender pale crabs gripping and gouging. Sharp, knife-thin breaths. Cutting me even deeper, right through – echoing out the other side.

I fall. Puffing out breaths, gulping, tiny little motes dusting my lips and eyes. Legs kicking feebly. Shifting, slowly. Face the moon, eyes empty and white as the same. I smile. Hear that?

Silence.