stories, writing


periscii (n.)- inhabitants of the polar circles; during summer-time, their shadows make a complete revolution

i. her

it’s 6:30 in the morning.

his room is a sludge of cigarette butts drowned in gin bottles like a saturated mountain of hopelessness. newspapers scatter the floor, the sink piled up with dishes reeking of mold & stench of rotting lunch. it’s a mess. he’s nothing but a mess.

and he holds me close, his hand caressing my thigh & his face buried deep in my hair. i inch further away from him and break free from the morning of rotten luck.

he gets up. shit.

“hey, that’s my shirt.” he pulls the white fabric closer to the bed. my body follows, his hands wrap tighter around my waist, thighs squeezing thighs, face buried in hair.

i look at the window. a bird perches on the window sill & looks at me, head cocked to one side.

i wish i was a bird.

he kisses me. hard. shit.

ii. him

i love her. she doesn’t love me.

i’m a mess, but i’m great in bed. before i knew her, i was nothing but a bunch of one-night stands and hook-me-up dates. i fucked everybody, but i didn’t get attached to nobody. i guess when your old man wants nothing but gin, you want nothing but gin. that’s what happened to me, at least.

why is she trying to get away from me? i pull her close. i love her.

her phone rings. she’s still asleep. i look at the glowing screen and see kate pop up, with her shitty face and everything.

why is she always with kate?

iii. her

i pretend to fall asleep. it feels nice to have his arms wrapped around me like this.

maybe i do love him.

kate calls. shit.

iv. him

is she hiding something from me? i get that kate’s her friend and everything, but she got me. she can hang out with me. i’m her boyfriend for fuck’s sakes.

v. her

before i knew it, there were broken gin bottles everywhere.

i didn’t even answer kate.

i thought everything was fine. one moment, we were cuddling in bed, the next he throws bottles at me. tells me i don’t love him the same way he loves me.

3 years of this and i’m still not used to it. i know he loves me. but i just can’t take it sometimes.

vi. him

i love her. i love her. i love her.

i throw gin at her chest. make her feel how much i’m broken inside. all of a sudden,

all of a sudden, i spot red blotches on the shirt she’s wearing. shit.

what have i done?

i didn’t mean to.

i didn’t mean to throw anything at her. i just wish she’d spend more time with me, that’s all. she’s probably gonna go out with kate and find a guy and leave me. i don’t want her to leave me.

i’m a monster.

vii. her

i spend 24 hours a day with him. i need air. can’t he understand that? i get it. he’s not okay. he takes thorazine every day. i can’t leave him, but i can’t take it anymore.

after he wipes off the blood left from that gin bottle, i bandage myself. i pull him away. he pulls me close. please don’t do that. 

i don’t care what i look like. the phone rings for the umpteenth time. he grabs my hand. i slap him. i’m not bringing anything with me.


it’s hot and humid outside of the apartment. it’s been 3 years since i tasted air. kate calls again. i answer.

i can’t take it anymore, i said. i needed to leave.

“bitch, you should’ve 3 years ago!” kate screams in anger. i understand.

i tell her to get to me quick.

viii. him

i can’t live without her. i have to get to her.

the car keys jingle on the side of the refrigerator, as i grab it, i spot a picture of us together. how she was so happy wrapping me around her on new year’s ever. kate and i were okay at the time. shitty kate.

her smile’s wide, teeth showing in the picture. she never smiles like that anymore. her lips were red & full & luscious. now they’re justchapped & thinned out.her i-love-yous

her i-love-yous used to be with a smile. how they’re just a flat line with a bunch of tears.

i tried. i really tried. the pills don’t work. gin don’t work. nothing works.

i tried. i’m gonna get her. i’m gonna change. i love her.

ix. her

kate’s here. i don’t love him anymore.

i get in the car with nothing but a shirt on. kate freaks the fuck out from the blood. i tell her it was the usual fight.

“he’s an asshole.”

“i know.”

“don’t do this like last time. whatever you do, don’t look back.”

the car is a few blocks away when he stops in front of us, tears welling in his eyes.

2 years ago, that was enough to rush me back into him and live the life of hell. i can’t love him anymore. he has to love himself.

kate beeps. he gets a vinegar bottle from the trashcan nearby and starts to break kate’s car front, a giant web of broken glass blocking our view.

kate calls the police. i lock the doors inside

x. him

don’t fucking do this to me. DON’T DO THIS!

i break’s kate fucking car with all the strength i have. fucking kate. fuck her.

before i knew it, the police arrives. everything’s a blur. one minute i’m trying to get my girlfriend back, the next i’m inking my fingerprints on a piece of paper.

my girlfriend’s there, crying her eyes out.

please love me. i’ll change for you.

xi. her

he’ll never change for me. never.

i break down in kate’s apartment and tell her i’ll never see him again. right now, i’m staying in her couch until i get myself together again.

3 years of love and rotten luck passes. it’s as if i was trapped in a cold, cold place with a shadow circling around me like a vulture all this time.

the vulture’s gone. the empty feeling is gone.

it’s 6:30 in the morning.

her room’s clean white, with pieces of parchment stacked neatly on one side of the coffee table & a watercolor painting perched on the middle of a wall. great things come from a fresh start, it says in blended, starlight cursive.

oh, kate. you didn’t have to put that up there.

i look at the window. a bird perches on the window sill & looks at me, head cocked to one side.

finally, i’m a bird.


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