Knock. Knock. Knock.
     In my head, I can imagine the sound the heavy metal knocker makes, slamming against the hollow door, echoing throughout the empty halls of the small house. As I wait patiently, I study the ornate design of the dragon’s head clasping the fiery ring of the knocker between its fanged jaws. The door groans open cautiously and a narrow, pale face peeks around the old, splintered edge of the faded white trim.
     “You shouldn’t be here.” His voice is flat. It expresses no feeling, no emotion. His words hold no meaning to anyone. His actions often go unnoticed. He is a man of little truth.
     “I know, but I had to see you again.” I reach up to caress his smooth skin beneath my long, crooked fingers. He turns quickly and his cheap, worn running shoes squeak unwillingly on the cold linoleum floor as he escapes the tenderness he is afraid I may inflict on him. I follow him, slowly. The sound of my heart echoes deep within my head. I want him, but I know that I can never have him. He is not mine for the taking. He belongs to his solitude, which holds him prisoner somewhere in the depths of his dark, tortured thoughts.
     I pause at the doorway to the abyss, which is his room. Black satin sheets drape loosely from the walls, fluttering in the light breeze that sneaks in through the cracks in the small, cell-like, window. The undulating movements of the material seems to be searching for me, flowing towards me, trying to ensnare me in its tangle of waves, drawing me into its nothingness. It disturbs me and I am cautious to enter. My discomfort, here at the door to hell, is great, and yet, I still feel the pressing urge to follow him inside.
     As I enter his bedroom, an overwhelming sense of belonging sweeps over me. I know I can never remain here in his private hell for long. But yet, I know I belong here. No matter how hard he fights to keep me away, and no matter how hard I try to stay away, the truth is here in this room. Some part of me will always belong here. Some part of me will always be here.
I turn to see his thin, frail body curled painfully on his tiny cot in a distant corner of his living quarters. The edge of his faded, frayed shirt has moved up his body to reveal his bony ribs pushing against the taut surface of his flesh. I gaze knowingly at his face as it pinches in pain. I flinch, experiencing his pain with him. A pain, which extends far beyond the physical level, is involved in this strange scenario of his life. I try hard to understand, but I cannot, for I am merely human.
     The extent of his pain comes from within. It comes from the painful knowledge that he is destined to be alone forever. He will die an unloved, unloving, lonely, decrepit young creature. Yes, I did say a young man, for although he emanates wisdom far greater than most beings, his features remain youthful and confuses the onlooker. He has lived much longer than most creatures of this earth, and although it does not show outwardly, it leaks through his pores, shrouding him with a unique sort of aura.
     I feel the urge to comfort him and let him know that there is still hope for him, that there is someone who cares about what will become of him. I know that it will probably not change anything. He no longer cares. He is too far-gone.
     I look deep into his eyes and glimpse his dark, unfeeling soul. It dares me to proceed, mocking my hesitation, laughing at my nerve. I know that he is not human, but I am not scared. Suddenly I am swept away to a dark, deserted nothingness…

*****

A tall, dark, handsome young man emerges from the cold shadows of my subconscious. It is he. He is cloaked in darkness. He is the Devil in disguise. His yellowish, God-like eyes stare into the very depths of my soul, piercing through the thick surface layer, reading my darkest desires. Thoughts he has no right knowing. Thoughts that should belong to me, and me alone. He glides effortlessly towards the Tree of Truth, a tree I have seen many times before in my dreams, and my nightmares. I know that here all secrets, dreams, and untold wishes will be revealed. I follow, unwillingly, being guided by an unseen hand. Abruptly he turns to face me, breaking the silent spell. He slowly reaches towards my upturned face of innocence, drawing me nearer, without the comfort of touch. I succumb. Inches apart now I glance up at the massive Tree of Truth. All will be revealed now, and I am terrified. Is this what I really want? Is this what he really needs? I close my eyes and a thousand thoughts flash behind my eyelids. Thoughts of how wonderful it is to be alive, to wake up every morning and see the sun and hear the birds sing. His lips brush mine fleetingly and he is locked into me. He sees what I see and knows what I know, feeling the way I feel. He experiences what he has been missing through me. I can feel the smile form on his face as his lips linger on my mouth. I know that there is no going back now. I have allowed him to experience that which he has longed for, for hundreds of years. He will now be content in taking life away from me, and giving me so much more. I give in to my desires and my wish is granted. I have been given the kiss of immortality. I will live forever.

*****

     The darkness swells around me and I am back in his room. I know now what I must do, but I still feel the urge to fight. I lean over the bed eagerly as his skeletal arms embrace me forcefully. He knows what is to come. I smell his overpowering scent. It forces its deathlike aroma up my flared nostrils and overwhelms my unprepared senses. It is trying to cloud my cautious thoughts, trying to suck me in. I will not give in easily to his evil desires. I will fight this overbearing power to revert to his horrifying terms until the bitter end.
     Our lips collide in an unexpected moment of passion. My soul-searching eyes close temporarily to everything around them. My other senses take control and I am helpless to avoid their demands. I sense his hunger as his tense body quivers with anticipation beneath my trembling fingers. He is determined to win. He wants to own me. He wants to own my soul.
     My confused mind is forced open unwillingly and I am made to feel all he feels, see all he sees, and experience everything he has experienced. Just as in the dream I see the thoughts that flash behind his eyes. But does that mean that he also sees mine? Vivid pictures flash through my head and the taste of bitter vomit rises in my mouth. I can smell what seems to be the scent of burning flesh, and I am terrified. My mind is being rolled. I am being made to forget what is happening to me, being made to release my hold on reality. I feel the graze of sharp teeth just above my shoulders. I mentally shake my head and the grip he has on me loosens. I fill my thoughts with the pleasant pictures of joy and happiness, sunshine and better times. I fight to show him that the world is not as evil as he perceives it to be. Things have changed a great deal since he last roamed the lands freely.
     Just before our hearts explode with exhaustion, and my now abused mind becomes a prisoner of his demented ways forever, I yank myself out of his grasp. I look deeply into his yellowish cat-like eyes and slink backwards, out of the reach of his touch. Even though I am petrified of this man at this exact moment in time, in some strange way, I love him, and I have enjoyed the intimate contact we have just shared.
     I fall back against his bedroom wall, panting for necessary breath, which does not want to come. This strange, yet informative, kiss has made me realize that I do not belong here in this room, in his world.
     As I shuffle hurriedly backwards away from the blackness of his room, eyes never leaving his face, I contemplate what we have achieved. He has been made aware that there is still hope for him to live a somewhat normal life. He is now able to become one of me, one of the last feeling people left on this planet of hatred. He can once again coexist in the world with humans. His unlimited days may be put to better use than wallowing in his self-made prison for a life that is long forgotten. For now he is not alone. Together, we have a second chance at love, and all because of the kiss of realization.

 © Gwenyth Love 1995