tommydarascal
kickbox
This short story is about obsession and twisted love. I have explored the undercurrents which often occur in a relationship, and the extreme consequences that can erupt as a result of them. Suffice it to say some of this was quite difficult for me to write as, being only 16 myself, I have not experienced many relationship issues. I do hope you enjoy it, however, and please feel free to cricise.
A Sweetbrier
With a raging lust burning Lennon’s heart, they drew back from an intense kiss. Karissa absorbed the trickling melodies of the river, the sweet harmony of the birds and whisperings of the poppies while he gazed into her eyes. Why couldn’t it always be like this?
“I love you, Karissa,” he replied seductively. “Why else would I ask you?”
She smiled, observing his auburn hair, ripe lips and slightly honey-coloured eyes; but her plastic smile began to ache, so she jerked her head away. “Give me time. Please.”
Lennon collapsed into uncomfortable laughter. Karissa folded her arms, defensively.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” she sighed, trying to steer the subject. With no reply, she leapt into the summer air, skipping from the river bank into the meadow of brilliantly-scarlet poppies. In response, Lennon laid back on the lush grass, observing Karissa’s innocent, white skirt as it fluctuated. He yearned for her tanned, Eurasian, bare skin. He loved her apple-like fragrance. He loved her curvaceous hips as she flowed with an indescribable elegance …
Karissa inhaled the sweet, subtle aromas of nature among the flora. The air was fresh and pure, and gentle breezes swept her brunette hair gracefully. Stems and petals tickled her ankles with affection. Gradually, however, she sensed Lennon’s burning gaze and it began to irritate her. She plunged, quite purposefully, into the poppies, allowing nature to comfort her fall.
“Ouch!” A shrill squeal penetrated the peaceful ambience. Some offended birds squawked furiously and took to the sky.
“Would you quieten down?”
“Look at this …” Lennon limped over, displaying a pink, swelling ankle.
“What happened?”
“A bloody thorn …” He gathered a large amount of saliva and spat it out amongst the flowers next to her. Karissa observed the revolting matter as it oozed its way through the ruby petals – violating their beauty – and splattered on the ground. In repugnance, she yanked herself into a sitting position. “Lie down again,” he ordered. With that, despite the blaring pain in his foot, he tumbled on top of her and began kissing her lips passionately.
“Lennon … Lennon … Stop it …” Karissa heaved him off her. Dejectedly, he rolled onto his back. “Just stop.” Several moments heard only the rustling of trees and poppies. Her tongue began to paste itself to the roof of her mouth: the Lennon she had come to know – the real Lennon – had resurfaced …
Lennon’s chest rose and fell softly in his doze. He had adopted a crescent shape; a hand was outstretched and somewhere beneath his head, the other curled and slung over his face carelessly. A poppy seemed to be in his mouth.
Karissa peered at him. Perplexed, she ran her hand across his handsome face. He wasn’t the boy she fell in love with anymore. So how could she commit to him? How could she commit to someone who degraded and used her? She snatched her hand back in revulsion and shuddered.
Karissa nudged the flower out of Lennon’s face and rose to survey the horizon. Hundreds of meadows stretched out before her. Vibrant greens and yellows were dotted with reds as roses and poppies bloomed amongst other gorgeous flora. The pale blue sky was unblemished, framing only the golden sun.
She skipped back to the river bank and clambered up a tree in an ecstasy of bliss. Perching herself on a branch, she rested her head on the bark behind her, savouring her newfound freedom from Lennon. She wished she could be alone. More importantly, though, she wished she had the courage to refuse him …
From the tree, she scanned her surroundings. Lennon stirred and her contentment was shattered. Her freedom had vanished as quickly as it had arrived.
Watching him rise to his feet and beam at her made her teeth clench. Her hands began to tremble, so she clamped them. She bit her lip. It punctured, drawing blood. She glanced at her hands. Nail marks were carved deeply into her wrists.
Karissa took perverse pleasure out of watching him limp with an agonising difficulty toward her tree. He placed his hands on the bark and began to climb. “No, no it’s okay. I’m getting down now.”
“Not to worry.” He continued to ascend. She asked herself if his ego would always be this huge. Her face reddened.
“No. I’m getting down. Move out of my way, please.” She spat out each word.
“Don’t talk to me like that.” A shadow crossed his face.
Karissa hopped down from the branch, and fluttered to the ground with the grace of a petal. “Whatever.”
“I said don’t.”
“Okay, Lennon.” Hastily, she strode to the river bank. She stared at the waterway as it gushed through shadows and trees, so free and unchained. From behind, he patted her shoulder. Her heart began to blast against her ribcage. She could feel his moist, dank breath as it prickled her neck. Her teeth were vice-like. She thought they would shatter …
She tossed his hand off. Something would have to be said, but she was sure acid was boiling in her throat.
“You’re beginning to irritate me, actually,” he hissed.
Karissa opened her mouth; she froze. How could she tell him ‘no’? How on earth could she tell him?
“You want to say something?”
She attempted to talk, yet each time she did her guts seemed to squirm and twist. Hatred flowed through her veins at the sight of his handsome face. Too long had she been controlled and ordered by this child, lying dormant. Could she really sense an eruption? One thing was for certain, however: there was no way she could accept …
“I said, ‘Did you want to say something?’”
“Yes.” Sweat cascaded down her arms and legs. She was trembling, completely terrified. This only increased her building resentment of the idiotic child standing before her. She decided she would keep her hands firmly behind her back and finish this. “Lennon, I – I can’t accept. I … just can’t. I don’t think you love me. You treat me like an object … and you don’t do that to people you love. The answer is no.” After several, long moments, she uttered, “Goodbye, Lennon.” Karissa exhaled, overwhelmed by relief. She span on her heels and strolled toward the poppy meadow. Feeling so much lighter, she smiled. She was tempted to laugh, cry, bounce up and down – do anything she wanted – for she was free, now. She was completely and utterly free …
From behind her, she heard Lennon scream a single word.
“Karissa!”
She halted. It was a cold, penetrating scream. She was tempted to disregard him and depart from the river bank for good. But something held her back. Something possessed her to turn around to him.
She found him looming over her. His face was squarely opposite hers, nostrils flaring.
“Get down – now.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Get the hell on the ground!”
Her heart froze. Her fists clenched. “Don’t do this.” Roses became redder. The sun began to sink. “Please, Lennon … this is exactly why I refused! This is all you wanted!”
The chilling noise of screams and shouts grew to a deafening falsetto. Insects nervously rushed for cover. Flowers began to wilt. Darkness impended. Trees swayed and moaned as the wind whipped and wailed. The woodland boomed with a sudden outbreak of hatred, violation and betrayal …
Within seconds, the sun melted into the dark. Several thunderous, violent cracks broke into the freezing, dismal night. A horrifying howl followed by a sadistic cry of triumph reverberated …
A light, cool drizzle descended. Karissa, doubled over, degraded and splayed out in the mud, began to whimper. Her cracked, fragile voice echoed sullenly amongst the haze. She tilted her head and opened her mouth, diluting the indisputable, metallic taste of blood. Unravelling her soggy, brownish skirt, she decided to pull herself up. Placing her hand somewhere beneath her, she pushed. A tremendous pain shot up her arm, but, determined, she yanked herself to her feet. Suddenly, the realisation of what had just happened struck her at full force: this would never end.
She lowered her head, gradually. Blackness licked the corners of her vision, but she could faintly distinguish Lennon below her … motionless. Stepping closer, she vaguely noticed the tiny thorn in his ankle. She recognised it …
Careful not to vomit, she steadily turned around and made for the meadow for the final time. Her breath transformed into a bitter mist as she exhaled and staggered away from Lennon forever. She only wished she could stagger away from everything, but at this thought she continued to weep.
In passing, she observed the patch of grass where she and Lennon had kissed a lifetime ago. Growing upon it was a Eurasian Sweetbrier; its curvaceous hips and large, billowing petals swayed with an indescribable elegance. Its apple-like scent was sweet. Lennon must not have been aware: its sharp, defensive thorns were disguised behind its beautiful features …
Karissa reached into her skirt pocket and fished out the wet, crumpled note she had read just before Lennon kissed her by the Sweetbrier. Scribbled upon it was a poorly written haiku:
“You are everything:
My sun, my ocean, my world.
My love: marry me.”
....
A Sweetbrier
With a raging lust burning Lennon’s heart, they drew back from an intense kiss. Karissa absorbed the trickling melodies of the river, the sweet harmony of the birds and whisperings of the poppies while he gazed into her eyes. Why couldn’t it always be like this?
“I love you, Karissa,” he replied seductively. “Why else would I ask you?”
She smiled, observing his auburn hair, ripe lips and slightly honey-coloured eyes; but her plastic smile began to ache, so she jerked her head away. “Give me time. Please.”
Lennon collapsed into uncomfortable laughter. Karissa folded her arms, defensively.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” she sighed, trying to steer the subject. With no reply, she leapt into the summer air, skipping from the river bank into the meadow of brilliantly-scarlet poppies. In response, Lennon laid back on the lush grass, observing Karissa’s innocent, white skirt as it fluctuated. He yearned for her tanned, Eurasian, bare skin. He loved her apple-like fragrance. He loved her curvaceous hips as she flowed with an indescribable elegance …
Karissa inhaled the sweet, subtle aromas of nature among the flora. The air was fresh and pure, and gentle breezes swept her brunette hair gracefully. Stems and petals tickled her ankles with affection. Gradually, however, she sensed Lennon’s burning gaze and it began to irritate her. She plunged, quite purposefully, into the poppies, allowing nature to comfort her fall.
“Ouch!” A shrill squeal penetrated the peaceful ambience. Some offended birds squawked furiously and took to the sky.
“Would you quieten down?”
“Look at this …” Lennon limped over, displaying a pink, swelling ankle.
“What happened?”
“A bloody thorn …” He gathered a large amount of saliva and spat it out amongst the flowers next to her. Karissa observed the revolting matter as it oozed its way through the ruby petals – violating their beauty – and splattered on the ground. In repugnance, she yanked herself into a sitting position. “Lie down again,” he ordered. With that, despite the blaring pain in his foot, he tumbled on top of her and began kissing her lips passionately.
“Lennon … Lennon … Stop it …” Karissa heaved him off her. Dejectedly, he rolled onto his back. “Just stop.” Several moments heard only the rustling of trees and poppies. Her tongue began to paste itself to the roof of her mouth: the Lennon she had come to know – the real Lennon – had resurfaced …
Lennon’s chest rose and fell softly in his doze. He had adopted a crescent shape; a hand was outstretched and somewhere beneath his head, the other curled and slung over his face carelessly. A poppy seemed to be in his mouth.
Karissa peered at him. Perplexed, she ran her hand across his handsome face. He wasn’t the boy she fell in love with anymore. So how could she commit to him? How could she commit to someone who degraded and used her? She snatched her hand back in revulsion and shuddered.
Karissa nudged the flower out of Lennon’s face and rose to survey the horizon. Hundreds of meadows stretched out before her. Vibrant greens and yellows were dotted with reds as roses and poppies bloomed amongst other gorgeous flora. The pale blue sky was unblemished, framing only the golden sun.
She skipped back to the river bank and clambered up a tree in an ecstasy of bliss. Perching herself on a branch, she rested her head on the bark behind her, savouring her newfound freedom from Lennon. She wished she could be alone. More importantly, though, she wished she had the courage to refuse him …
From the tree, she scanned her surroundings. Lennon stirred and her contentment was shattered. Her freedom had vanished as quickly as it had arrived.
Watching him rise to his feet and beam at her made her teeth clench. Her hands began to tremble, so she clamped them. She bit her lip. It punctured, drawing blood. She glanced at her hands. Nail marks were carved deeply into her wrists.
Karissa took perverse pleasure out of watching him limp with an agonising difficulty toward her tree. He placed his hands on the bark and began to climb. “No, no it’s okay. I’m getting down now.”
“Not to worry.” He continued to ascend. She asked herself if his ego would always be this huge. Her face reddened.
“No. I’m getting down. Move out of my way, please.” She spat out each word.
“Don’t talk to me like that.” A shadow crossed his face.
Karissa hopped down from the branch, and fluttered to the ground with the grace of a petal. “Whatever.”
“I said don’t.”
“Okay, Lennon.” Hastily, she strode to the river bank. She stared at the waterway as it gushed through shadows and trees, so free and unchained. From behind, he patted her shoulder. Her heart began to blast against her ribcage. She could feel his moist, dank breath as it prickled her neck. Her teeth were vice-like. She thought they would shatter …
She tossed his hand off. Something would have to be said, but she was sure acid was boiling in her throat.
“You’re beginning to irritate me, actually,” he hissed.
Karissa opened her mouth; she froze. How could she tell him ‘no’? How on earth could she tell him?
“You want to say something?”
She attempted to talk, yet each time she did her guts seemed to squirm and twist. Hatred flowed through her veins at the sight of his handsome face. Too long had she been controlled and ordered by this child, lying dormant. Could she really sense an eruption? One thing was for certain, however: there was no way she could accept …
“I said, ‘Did you want to say something?’”
“Yes.” Sweat cascaded down her arms and legs. She was trembling, completely terrified. This only increased her building resentment of the idiotic child standing before her. She decided she would keep her hands firmly behind her back and finish this. “Lennon, I – I can’t accept. I … just can’t. I don’t think you love me. You treat me like an object … and you don’t do that to people you love. The answer is no.” After several, long moments, she uttered, “Goodbye, Lennon.” Karissa exhaled, overwhelmed by relief. She span on her heels and strolled toward the poppy meadow. Feeling so much lighter, she smiled. She was tempted to laugh, cry, bounce up and down – do anything she wanted – for she was free, now. She was completely and utterly free …
From behind her, she heard Lennon scream a single word.
“Karissa!”
She halted. It was a cold, penetrating scream. She was tempted to disregard him and depart from the river bank for good. But something held her back. Something possessed her to turn around to him.
She found him looming over her. His face was squarely opposite hers, nostrils flaring.
“Get down – now.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Get the hell on the ground!”
Her heart froze. Her fists clenched. “Don’t do this.” Roses became redder. The sun began to sink. “Please, Lennon … this is exactly why I refused! This is all you wanted!”
The chilling noise of screams and shouts grew to a deafening falsetto. Insects nervously rushed for cover. Flowers began to wilt. Darkness impended. Trees swayed and moaned as the wind whipped and wailed. The woodland boomed with a sudden outbreak of hatred, violation and betrayal …
Within seconds, the sun melted into the dark. Several thunderous, violent cracks broke into the freezing, dismal night. A horrifying howl followed by a sadistic cry of triumph reverberated …
A light, cool drizzle descended. Karissa, doubled over, degraded and splayed out in the mud, began to whimper. Her cracked, fragile voice echoed sullenly amongst the haze. She tilted her head and opened her mouth, diluting the indisputable, metallic taste of blood. Unravelling her soggy, brownish skirt, she decided to pull herself up. Placing her hand somewhere beneath her, she pushed. A tremendous pain shot up her arm, but, determined, she yanked herself to her feet. Suddenly, the realisation of what had just happened struck her at full force: this would never end.
She lowered her head, gradually. Blackness licked the corners of her vision, but she could faintly distinguish Lennon below her … motionless. Stepping closer, she vaguely noticed the tiny thorn in his ankle. She recognised it …
Careful not to vomit, she steadily turned around and made for the meadow for the final time. Her breath transformed into a bitter mist as she exhaled and staggered away from Lennon forever. She only wished she could stagger away from everything, but at this thought she continued to weep.
In passing, she observed the patch of grass where she and Lennon had kissed a lifetime ago. Growing upon it was a Eurasian Sweetbrier; its curvaceous hips and large, billowing petals swayed with an indescribable elegance. Its apple-like scent was sweet. Lennon must not have been aware: its sharp, defensive thorns were disguised behind its beautiful features …
Karissa reached into her skirt pocket and fished out the wet, crumpled note she had read just before Lennon kissed her by the Sweetbrier. Scribbled upon it was a poorly written haiku:
“You are everything:
My sun, my ocean, my world.
My love: marry me.”
....
