AUTHORS NOTE: When we last left our Catt in the desert she was tied to a chair being blamed for the coming apocalypse by a hyena-turned-woman, possibly a dominatrix of the Djinn kind, who, like everyone else, wanted something from her. Also, in honor of my 300th post, a random challenge for no reason: what song did I steal borrow the title of this chapter from, anyone? ;-D
~
She continues to stare at me unflinching.
A frozen furious Djinn stare increasing in intensity as each soundless second ticks slowly away.
I’m petrified, I want to be anywhere but here. Even though she’d released the tight ropes from my wrists and ankles I’m too scared to move yet, what’s a few more moments in the un-comfy chair?
Her stare is unnerving, both diabolical and seductive.
I start to squirm but not in a good way, the diabolical is overruling the seductive so I do the only thing I can do, I babble.
It’s a nervous habit I have and it’s going to be the death of me. Death by babble.
“Umm, yeah, so uh, about that door you mentioned, the one I accidentally opened? Really, really sorry about that by the way… so the thing about that door is, I uh, well, actually I have no idea what door you’re talking about, like at all and are you sure I’m the one who opened it up because I don’t remember opening any weird doors lately, uh, not that your door is weird, what I mean is I don’t even know how to open a door, I mean I can open a regular door like in a house but I think you’re talking about a magic door or, umm, I, uh….”
My voice fades and she is not amused at all.
I hear Jann standing next to me mumbling “don’t you ever shut up” in my direction and shoot him a dirty look.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” She leans in closer to my face, her long sin-scented hair tickles my mouth as she continues to stare at me with those swirling Djinn eyes of hers. Her voice is surprisingly soft, husky, deceptive.
All I can do is swallow audibly.
She is the definition of frightening. She also has a kick-ass fashion sense.
Oh no, I’m developing Stockholm syndrome! Where the hell is my Muse when I really need her?
“Whose side are you on? What side do you work for?” She snaps out the words, her breath smells of restrained lust and she’s angry.
Shit, now what? “Work for? I don’t work for anyone.”
I can see by the sudden flames in her eyes this is not the answer she wants and my babble comes back.
“Well I was laid off a few months ago so I don’t really have a job right now…the economy is pretty bad the last few years, there aren’t too many jobs out there, this healthcare thing is very confusing, but I’ve got my resume all over the place and, uh…” By the look on her face, this babbling thing wasn’t working. “Oh, you weren’t asking about my employment status…”
“Tell me.” She grabs one of my hands very ungently, her nails drawing blood.
“Who sent you? Where did you get those bottles?” Her beautifully delicate hand is pretty fucking strong as she grips mine tightly.
“Answer me.” Her voice drips a lusty condescension as she squeezes so hard I swear I can hear the cracking of tiny finger bones. Mine.
She’s right in my face and I’m petrified, but does my fear stop my mouth from disobeying my better instincts to shut up?
Nope.
“Hey! You’re gonna break my fingers bitch!”
It was out of my mouth before I could stop it.
Jann, now standing behind her, gasped at my outburst.
Shit, I really pissed her off this time.
“What did you call me?” She actually growled at me.
“She called you a bitch, want me to spell it out for you?”
I never thought I’d be so happy to hear that voice again.
Especially when my Muse was sporting her pre-ass-kicking voice.
~to be continued…
when i close my eyes,
this is when my mind scrambles
looking for direction
a path to wander for a time
to calm my raging soul,
it burns inside,
and nothing is within reach
the impossible endless stretches out for miles
when the dark settles in,
silence presses down suffocating,
there are too many layers to sift through
nothing makes sense anymore,
there’s been a suspension of belief,
hope has disappeared in a puff of smoke
burning down my house,
turmoil has become my only friend
uneasy and unreliable, although there’s nothing new in that,
constant companions through my lifetime
distracting me from any save dangled in front of me,
it only stands to reason that i’ve lost my way
as i try to remember where i’m even going
you’re distracting me
deliciously,
a word sporadic here,
a few more there
while i’m melting,
breathlessly tense
so close to the edge i slip-slide over
at the mere thought of your next whisper
you’ve got me standing at attention
ready for battle
rooting for you to take me down
sometimes you come out of nowhere unexpected
when you catch me by surprise my heart drops
bouncing to the pit of my stomach and down deeper,
the core of me has you memorized
so everything rushes back
time makes no difference then,
it all boils down to this,
and the delicious way you distract me
it’s always you who saves me
whether you know it or not is irrelevant,
the point is you do,
without fail, you do,
so when everything piles up high
appearing to crumble all around you,
when you keep on always,
unsatisfied and overwhelmed,
your I’m-ok-mask firmly in place
with a joke for the masses on the tip of your tongue,
remember,
it’s me who worries,
i’m the one
who wants to reach out
take you by the hand and take over,
oh don’t misunderstand,
this is not a coup,
no dissension amongst my inner ranks,
just me reminding you how precious you are,
see, you sometimes forget
in your race against the clock,
when certain things get back-burnered
when all those burdens wear you down,
please don’t forget,
they can’t hold to a candle to my determination
i have special superpowers you know,
they came from you
you slipped through my defenses
long before i knew it
it may have begun before you recognized it too,
or maybe your vision is better than mine
’cause you called it in one,
i tend to lean toward the latter,
due to synchronicity
and of course that glint in your eyes
the other night i wished you here
and just like that you appeared
you were miles away but i felt your touch
along with your urgent demands,
just another way of referring to my own desire really,
your hands were soft and firm, and the other way around,
each and every word brought me closer to the edge of reality,
closer to that place you showed me,
and your timing was exquisite,
mind-shivers explode just as loudly as any,
and coat my skin with every drop of you
somehow this is enough
for i am easily pleased
and an eager learn
with the right teacher
dominating my time
Thank you for sharing your story, and your boobs too 😉
I’m proud to have joined in #ProtectYourBreasts today (you’ll have to go to Twitter to see the photo 😉 )
My Mom had breast cancer, and remember, cancer doesn’t discriminate between men and women.
It’s not too late, head on over to Twitter and tweet a picture of yourself, covered or not, we all have them and big or small, cancer wants them all.
you got me
right where you want me
coincidentally
exactly where i want to be
on the edge
always saturated in you
waiting for a sign,
a signal in the sky
with my name on it,
your mark on me invisible to the naked eye,
it takes a certain combination,
a mathematical formula, with only one result,
all variables taken into consideration
won’t change the outcome,
no reason to push against the inevitable,
you’ve been holding the reins loosely,
waiting
watching
calculating,
the pull so infuriatingly slow
tightening and tighter
as you amp up the tension
with me over here
about to explode
I love the smell of lemons, it evokes images of childhood, lemonade stands, barefoot and innocent, not a care in the world.
The scent is luring me closer and closer to that goddamn mirage ahead of me. I’m so exhausted I don’t notice the mini-tornado headed straight at me till it’s close enough to feel stinging sand from the funnel dust-cloud headed fast and furiously right at me.
How the hell do I duck and cover in the middle of a desert?
Looking around desperate for some sort of protection I can feel the bottled Djinn throbbing in my pockets, soft eerie moans whispering words I can’t understand.
“Get back here!”
Screaming into the darkened sky as a Tasmanian sand devil bears down on me wasn’t going to bring my Muse back but I felt like I had to try something.
It’s so close I can feel my hair getting all static-like, grains of sand imbedding into my flesh as the funnel of scary closes in on me, I say a quick prayer in my head (Catholic School habits never leave, they just hide) knowing I’m doomed and it comes to a complete stop.
Less than a breath away from me, it stops.
It’s still swirling in place, hovering in front of me as it spins but I notice letters of the alphabet scrambling like hermit crabs, forming into words. Just three words; “help me catt”.
Huh? Who? What the hell? Who in their right mind would be asking me for help?
I barely even have any real friends… no, she wouldn’t, it can’t be my Muse. I get on her nerves too much and besides, she’s the magical one, I’m just a lowly human in her eyes.
Besides, if she’s in trouble, we are both so screwed.
“Catt hurry, please…” The unfamiliar voice fades away as the whirlwind disappears, leaving not a trace.
It did however, somehow manage to leave me sitting in the most comfortable chair in the entire world.
Right in front of an elegant Tea with all the trimmings, under, of course, the blue and white striped tent I’d been hallucinating.
“You didn’t hallucinate anything child, we’ve been waiting for you. How about a nice cup of tea? It’s your favorite British Blend. Or a nice tall glass of ice cold lemonade? You must be parched from the sun.”
My mouth waters as a handsome elderly gentleman bows before me with a flourish then points to the delicacies on a trio of overflowing three-tiered trays. Pots of tea and glass pitchers of lemonade filled with sparkling ice cubes and lemon slices, every sweet you can imagine was there, as well as tiny little cucumber sandwiches accompanied by an array of food beckoning me.
Alice, I remind myself, just think of Alice and little bottles that say “drink me”. That isn’t working because all in all, Alice had fun in Wonderland. Ok, baseball. Which I know nothing about.
As I open my mouth to rudely inquire what the fuck was going on he spoke.
“Just call me Jann my dear child, sit, rest, relax, you’re exhausted, you need to sleep.”
My eyes grow heavier as he speaks, his voice hypnotizing and hard as I try to fight it, I feel myself fading fast.
“I can’t sleep,” I mumble, “things to do…”. I can’t keep my eyes open any longer.
“Sleep child. Now.”
And I did.
“It’s all your fault you know.”
I’m sitting on a straight-back chair, hands and feet tied just a little too tightly as a striped hyena circles me, sniffing.
Gentlemanly Jann waves an elegant looking platter filled with lemon scones and clotted cream under my nose enticingly before turning over the whole shebang, smashing it all into the desert sand.
“It would be so much easier if you just give me the bottles Catt.” His voice is honey smooth but his eyes are angry, a kaleidoscope of storm-clouds and lightening swirling together violently.
I guess the tea party is over.
I have to get out of here somehow, these extra-tight ropes sure weren’t making it any easier. And where the hell was my Muse when I needed her?
“What’s my fault? What did I do?” My voice was a mixture of false bravado but I couldn’t cover the racing of my heart. “What are you even talking about?”
The hyena barks out a laugh sending a chill through my body as it slithers around me.
As the hyena rises up on it’s hind legs and transforms into a breathtakingly beautiful woman, the chill I’d been feeling gets chillier.
She is absolutely gorgeous and smells of deceit mixed with apples.
Her stride is Top Model perfect as she towers over helpless me tied to this damn chair.
“What you did, you ignorant little fool, is open up a door.”
Leaning down closer to me she places a perfect slender red tipped finger gently against the softness of the skin underneath my chin.
She applies just enough pressure to force my gaze to meet hers, the endless pools in her eyes let me know without a doubt she could rip my head off with that one finger if so inclined.
“And now,” she continued, “that door won’t close.” Her voice is steel and broken glass, with each word she slides her sharp fingernail down closer to my throat, that same exposed vulnerable throat she was now taking too much interest in, if her sudden drop of fangs was anything to go by.
“By the way, I want those bottles Kitty Catt,” she leans in so close I can smell her evil soul. It smells a little too good for my own good and oh man where’s a superhero when you need one?
“Whoa, hey, wait a minute.” Shit. Does everyone in the world but me know about these damn bottles? And now there’s doors? Why didn’t I go to college and get a degree I’d never use and become a Stepford Wife instead of writing?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I begin nervously, trying to pull away from her. Not so easy when I’m practically hog-tied to a chair.
“I didn’t open any doors! I swear I didn’t!” I hear that tone my voice gets when I’m petrified, my words all rush together and my pitch rises and it’s not helping with hyena lady in my face.
“Uh, ma’am.” Can’t hurt to muster up some respect, try to be polite at least. I guess not.
Do you have any idea how loud a hard smack across the face sounds in a desert?
One hundred. One hundred loud.
“Oww! What the hell did you slap me for?”
“Don’t get flip with me missy,” she hisses at me. “you’re a fool. You play with things you don’t understand.”
“Duh,” I cringe as the word slips out of my mouth before I can stop it.
She leans in closer sniffing the base of my neck, almost nuzzling my hair.
Pulling back a little, she just tilts her head and stares at me.
Jann stands behind her staring into the distance, looking as if he’s listening to something my human ears can’t hear.
Nobody says anything for a good long while, hyena lady continues to stare at me and it’s really starting to freak me out.
Before I have a chance to blurt out something stupid, she takes a step back, though her eyes are still locked on mine.
“Well this is unexpected.” She waves a hand in my direction, “release.”
The ropes drop away, I immediately attempt to rub some of the numbness out of my hands.
I stay where I am, uncertain of her motives.
“You really don’t know what you did, do you? I’ve been inside your mind and you really don’t know,” she states.
“Uh, actually, no.” I say meekly. Not my usual tone of voice but she scares me more than that Miranda lady.
“How did you do it?” She sounds almost impressed, I mean aside from the fury.
“Well, you see, there’s this Muse and, umm, what did I do again?”
I swear I saw actual lightening bolts flash in her eyes before she answered me.
“You,” she stopped and shook her head as if she couldn’t quite figure me out. Join the club.
“You opened doors that shouldn’t be opened. All the worlds are bleeding into each other, Asmodeus has been waiting for this opportunity for eons and you gave him exactly what he’s been waiting for.”
At my blank look which, in my defense, was more fear than anything, she rolled her eyes and took pity on me.
“Apocalypse, End Of The World? You know, everything goes Boom?”
“Me???” I squeaked. “I didn’t… Apocalypse? Is this like a reality show or something?”
Ok even I admit that was lame but my brain was working overtime trying to process, well, all of this.
“That’s all you have to say for yourself!” Shit, here comes cranky hyena lady again.
“Umm, sorry?”
to be continued
come away with me to that place we know
where the shades are drawn and time stops
we can laugh at the cliche we’ve become
knowing it was out of necessity
file it under lifesaving 101 for all i care
long as it gets us through
it’s just like you remember
familiar burning comfort
sunburn-hot when it stings
honey smooth and feather-like
sweet summer breeze with a tangy bite
it all sticks with you,
tickles when you least expect it
rushes over you with a crash
all foamy and full of relief,
in every sense of the word
uncomplicated
This whole walking through the desert thing is beginning to really piss me off.
Endless sand stretches out forever no matter which way I turn. Although there is the awesome bonus of a mirage here and there, it’s mostly just sand and wind and sun beating down on me.
As hot as it is I’m getting the chills, like that feeling you get when you have a fever and your skin gets all clammy and kinda hurts.
Dehydration may have something to do with it, I almost regret not actually drinking that Mojito G-Man made for me earlier but I keep thinking of Alice, in Wonderland everything wasn’t as it seemed so I’m doing my best to not fall into that trap, even though the only thing going through my mind right now is Snickers and lemonade.
Flashes of that white and blue striped tent in the distance along with the lovely scent of lemon faded in and out, but I had more important things to worry about.
Three miniature bottles stashed in my pants pocket are pulsing with some kind of energy and they’re scaring the hell out of me.
Three bottles of Djinn are no joke.
The whys and hows, reason and logic, none of that matters right now.
But teeny little pinpricks of memory start to tickle my mind, little tiny puzzle pieces were beginning to slide together, like I knew things, important things, yet I couldn’t quite unscramble my brain.
I was long overdue for a talk with my Muse. She had some explaining to do, not that I expected a full reveal but the least she can do is give me a clue.
I never thought writers block could lead me to this kind of craziness. I better get some damn good ideas when this is all over.
Also, by the way, nobody ever mentioned there would be a history test with this whole Solomon/Amadeus feud over a ring, and I don’t see anyway this could have anything to do with me, like why was I the big save?
It’s common knowledge I can’t even save myself, I’ve sure been told that enough through my life.
The mere fact that Musey gave me anything, never mind these bottles, was kind of suspicious in itself.
She hates me most of the time, then treats me like a pain in the ass little sister she’s stuck babysitting the rest of the time.
Plus the way her face was slowly morphing into mine was really weird. It must be a Muse thing.
I wish she’d stop popping in and out like that guy on that show Quantum Leap, at least on the show he tried to help Sam, my leaper just likes to drive me crazy.
“Caaaaaaaaaatttttttttt……”
I’ve heard of the wind whispering names but there’s no wind right now.
The air is hot but still.
Not a hint of a breeze anywhere.
I continue to walk west at a steady pace trying to ignore the haunting whispers calling my name.
They’re coming from the bottles.
When I put them away I put each one in a separate pocket of my cargo pants. I can’t take a chance, accidental breakage would be bad and the last thing I need is three Djinn ganging up on me.
“We’re here to help you Catt.” The voices are in my head. They sound like nothing I can properly describe, ancient, melodic, soothing and petrifying all at the same time.
“Let us out Catt, we can help you,” the whispered, seductively of course.
“Don’t even think about it!”
She does it again, appears directly in my path out of nowhere and of course, I jump back landing on my ass with a sandy thud, glad I had separated the three bottles.
“Gah!!! Stop doing that!!!”
“You can not let them out yet chica, it’s not time yet, it’s much to dangerous.”
She paces back and forth in front of me, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look this unsettled.
“These three are the big guns. They’ve been trapped in those bottles for centuries because, well, as far as I know there is no-one alive who remembers exactly what they did other than your basic Djinn crimes and misdemeanors,” she shrugs her shoulders as she begins to fade from view.
“Hey! Don’t disappear on me now!” I hate the whining sound in my voice nearly as much as I hate being left alone yet again.
Too late, she was out of there before the sentence left my mouth, but not before one last kinda painful tug on my hair.
Letting out a cotton-mouthed sigh I climb to my feet muttering to myself. I’m tired, hungry and thirsty as hell and, as usual, alone and in need of, I don’t know, something.
I’d even be happy with a little bit of attention, the non-threatening kind of course.
All I wanted was something to write about, isn’t that what a Muse is supposed to do, provide inspiration?
I start walking west again, that damn mirage beckoning me is looking closer and closer with each step. Suddenly the only thing on my mind is ice cold lemonade.
to be continued…
joannebest 