Within These Walls

Never forget the day she arrived. She was a sight to behold. Yes sir indeed, she was a sight. Long flowing black hair the color of Raven feathers, caramel colored skin, and those eyes. Those eyes of rain. Bring a man to their knee’s they could.

Yes sir, one of Gods gifts that was for sure. How that gift ended up here though, now that’s a damn shame.

I see a lot of things here. Hear a lot of things too, but I guess it comes with the territory. You find some good ones, they come in all shapes and sizes, and different shades of color, man, woman, hell even a child. But they all come. Some go, but mostly they stay.

World out there don’t want em. ‘Thrown them off’ I heard one of them say, like they a pair of dirty jeans that ain’t worth wearing anymore. This is what our world has come to now. Hmph – this is who we are.

Discarding our fellow man like foul rubbish from our trashcans.  Sending them to places like this.  Places that create there own kind of hell.

She never did say much, but then I guess she couldn’t really. In the clouds she was, sitting high in the clouds like she was a kite. Such a crying shame, something so beautiful ending up here.  You have to pity the poor creature for the hand fate has dealt her.  But then again karma has it’s own way of dishing out retribution for the wrongs a person commits.

My mammy always said to me when I was growing up, she would say ‘Boy! Beauty is not all it’s cracked up to be. You could be the Venus De Milo for all the good it would do you. Beauty is a curse for those who have been handpicked to wear it. Be thankful my boy you look the way you do. God has blessed you’.

And my mammy was right. One of the handpicked is here, and it looks like God has forsaken her.

Yeeep‘. I’ve seen em come but mostly stay. I keep my head down and do my job. Clean up the stink they leave behind, clean up other stuff too. I just do my job, I don’t get paid to say nothing to no one, or question anything I see either. Head down cleaning the filth, that’s what I do. Oh but I see things, yes lord I see things. Can’t escape hearing them either, not here.

But here she is, another pair of dirty jeans to add to the collection.

‘Let. Me. Go.’
‘Let me go. Let me go!’
‘No. No, please. Please, please don’t’
‘Please! Nooooo!’

I heard the stories when she arrived. They were talking about it. So I listened, yes sir I listened. Quite a tale behind this here picture of perfection. You wouldn’t think so, but after you hear it, if it wasn’t true, then she wouldn’t be here. Nope. She would be off in some fancy restaurant with some handsome fella. Shopping, travelling. Doing all those things someone like her would be doing.

Except that’s not what’s happening now is it. Nah-uh. There’s none of that to be had where she is. There was talk of a child, jealousy, arguing, the child’s daddy and blind rage.

Yeeep‘. I’ve seen em come, the odd ones go, but this one. This one will never leave. Too far-gone I heard them say, too far-gone. Such a shame those eyes of rain, still a mans heart they could.

But the mind. Now the mind is a different story when it’s pushed over the edge, gets you to do funny things. When the mind goes you may as well paint the face of a dead carcass for all it’s worth. No good to man or beast you are, if your mind is lost. Beauty counts for nothing when a person is like that.

There was talk of a child and her daddy. An innocent child who’s beauty rivaled her own. Now can’t have that can we.  The child, a cherub of the Lord’s taken by one of Lucifer’s fallen.  The light of eight years taken from her eyes plunged into darkness before her time.  So this is what we’ve become, monsters who steal the breath from the lips of the innocent.

Oh yes sir I’ve heard the screams, I’ve seen the lights flickering, the shadows moving in her room, the grunts and the moans.  I see it all.  I just do my job, don’t question those above me, don’t question those below.  I clean up the stink, wash the walls, clean away the smell of death.

Within these walls you can be the Queen of England, Marilyn Munroe, hell you can even be Elvis if the shoe fits, but it don’t mean squat at the end of the day. You’re here because society don’t want you no more. They got no room for the likes of you. They have discarded you to your own personal hell.

You no longer fit to be among the living, among the so-called righteous.  You here because you have fallen from the eyes of humanity and they have washed their hands of you.  Their ain’t nobody left out there to take care of you, but in here, you among your own, you among those whose hearts are as black as obsidian, and who blood runs cold with ice.

Yeeep‘. This ones a keeper.

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