Lakeside Revisited

She still couldn't shake the previous night's dream. All day she'd wandered around with that voice in her head, wet-dog shaking to try and clear it out, ignoring the curious stares from the other weirdos on the trail. She walked around and around, circling the lake, long black skirts trailing behind her, bald head gleaming in the sun, spitting occasionally to try and clear the taste of him from her mouth.

She couldn't believe she'd gone there again; she knew better and her brain, her stupid fucking brain had betrayed her and led her right back into that pit.

She stopped beside a fallen tree and leaned heavily on a large exposed root. The dirt that now clung to her clothes didn't bother her, and she rested there, resisting sleep, talking in slowed-down time to the man in her head. Her lips moved as though she was singing, whispers, and a mother passing by with a small child gathered him closer to her and hurried past, afraid.

Her eyes drifted shut and she saw him there again, heard his voice, whispered back I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'll do better now, I'm sorry... I'm sorry. Drawn back into herself she became small again, the world expansive; everything around her bore his face and rage. The whispers died on her lips and she fell into sleep, feeling the weight of him on her, crushing her from across the room, making her bleed inside with the force of his words. He cut her again and again and she heard her name change from something light and sweet to something cold and ugly, things that can only be said on late-night television, on the channels you have to pay extra for each month. The room inside her spun and she crashed, seeing finally, blissfully, only black; for these brief few moments she almost believed on god, thinking he might relent and take her back.

She awoke some time later, time irrelevant, to darkness and the flickering of the television. She felt his arm, heavy across her waist, felt his breath against her damp neck, the hairs on his legs, the weight in the room, the absence of god, and wept.