Forbidden fruit.

Untouchable because of perfection,
Unbreakable because of exterior,
No blemishes, no spots, flawless,
The forbidden fruit, a perfect sphere.
I wish it were so easy,
To dismiss it from my mind
But what I can't have attracts me
Beyond any sense or rhyme.

Touched it once, exalted in the sense,
Smelt and lived it,
Felt like glory days again.
I took one bite and I knew I was gone.
Poison, only poison running through my heart,
Blood transforming to black rot,
Oh, I got all the knowledge I felt I lacked,
Only my body has become stone,
My heart has gone cold,
All my senses have gone numb.

Then you approached me, a blessed one,
Someone who has been able to ignore its presence,
Someone able to live in bliss,
That one who told me not to touch,
Without ever knowing why not to feel,
I wish it were so easy,
To dismiss it from my mind
But what I can't have attracts me
Beyond any sense or rhyme.

And now you've seen me do the unspeakable,
You're watching me turn to stone and sand,
You still offer a loving but doubtful hand.
Seeing you, the guilt hangs over me
It stabs me one grain at a time,
I think you love me but I no longer can, I'm
Untouchable because of perfection,
Unbreakable because of exterior,
No blemishes, no spots, flawless,
Like the forbidden fruit,
Rotten black inside.

Morbid curiosity/3

#mc/3

Two deaths. One more and she'd be branded a serial killer...or would she? Everything looked like accidents. It happened in the space of a month.

Lying in the arms of her gallery manager, her paintings out, she couldn't find sleep. She kept seeing reruns of her heightened emotions and awareness of those moments. Accidents shouldn't be so easy to stage. It shouldn't be. Her actions were so perfect as well. The wife was called a jealous lunatic even though she wasn't pressed with charges. She had disappeared like smoke.

Speaking of smoke, she wanted one. She went out into the balcony and lit one. Another near full moon. Few clouds, plenty of stars. Arms suddenly went around her and she reacted in surprise. She pushed.

Tiny balcony. Tinier railings. He didn't fall off but he stumbled and had just caught on the railing and supported himself.
"What's wrong sweetheart? Did you have bad dreams?", his concern irritated her. She sidled up close and rested her hands on his chest. "Yes, very bad."

In the split second he let go of the railings to embrace her, to comfort her, she pushed him and leaped back.

He fell off. Six stories. She stood with a blank face at the balcony, still smoking her cigarette.Last thought we know from her, "How to cover up this one now?"

- the end.

Morbid curiosity/2

#mc/2

"Sir, your drink?"
"Yes, thank you."
The way this man eyed her up and down sitting next to his own wife was pathetic. But there were many on that list now. She was helping the gallery manager, a sweet guy. She turned away to go and felt a pinch on her back. She jumped in surprise (and pain) and dropped her tray. As she bent down to retrieve it, a piece of paper floated down in front her face.

312, Gold Lane - come for a swim. Party 7pm 12/12/12

She smiled. How quaint. From an artist to temporary help in an art gallery to this. Whatever this was.

Ten o'clock had a nice moon shining in through the kitchen window. The patron was drunk. He had liked her art and already wrote out a check or two to her name...with what hopes, she knew but wisely chose to ignore. She needed the money.

"You're pretty for a nerd... I can't believe that you don't swim. That is no excuse for dressing like this"
Cotton slacks and a tshirt to a pool because she claimed she didn't swim. Well she came to run, not swim. He was holding her hand and pulling it. Her eyes roved the kitchen and gently maneuvered him to the chopping board.

He was still talking, slurring quite a bit now. It didn't make much sense to her...other than his intentions with her, none of which seemed promising. She could hear footsteps approaching the kitchen. She told him quietly, "Lean here, I'll fix you a coffee."
He grabbed her hand with his sweaty ones and empathetically shook his head. She pulled her hand out with sudden force, tripped him with her foot and moved almost instantly to the shelf.

The door opening and her opening the shelf and the patron's anguished cry was altogether.
"Oh my god!", both women screamed. The wife. The gallery assistant.
He wasn't dead yet, he was moaning. His wife ran to him, tried to lift him.
"Call the ambulance! Call 911!", she shouted. No reply. She turned her head to a room empty of anyone else.

Her husband was dying in her arms. The pale girl with dark hair, had it been her imagination? She hadn't seen her anywhere else. She had assumed it would be her husband's mistress or someone. She tried to frantically call for help.

The ambulance arrived a few minutes later to collect the dead body.

- continued.

Morbid curiosity/1

#mc/1

There wasn't any trace left. She had made sure of it. Getting him drunk was a piece of cake. Letting him trip on the knife stand was... Well, let's not go there. None of her clothes were in the place. A note she had written yesterday was safely stuck up on the mirror. Her fingerprints were around of course. As the girlfriend, she was supposed to have it around. But this was just an accident.

Just an accident.

Driving away was the easiest thing to do. She had just killed a man, her own boyfriend. The one her parents thought she was going to marry.

It was not her fault, of course. He led her into it. Who was he to stop her from visiting Florence to do her art research? Saying that she will sleep around... He had slapped her across the face. That bastard.

"Why the hell would you go to Florence? Where is that anyway!?"
"To do my art research, I already told you. The architecture..."
"To hell with the architecture! It's in Italy, ain't it? You planning to sleep around?"
"What! Of course not! Mind your words, I don't like this!"
"You know what? Neither do I. You're living under my roof and what I say goes. And you are not going."
"That's not for you to decide!"
*slap*
"Said something sweetheart?"
"I said I'm going."
*slap*
"You're not. Shut up."
*silence*

Leading him into his own murder had been...interesting. All these months of keeping quiet as he kept trying to tie her down, control her, possess her...

No other girl would be bothered again. Standing in the airport line, she didn't even feel remorse. Was she supposed to? The hunting had felt very...satisfying for some reason. But maybe not again. It's not like there are so many bastards to kill, is it?

Flight cancelled. Maybe the gods were telling her to stay and that her calling was somewhere else. She just wanted to try once more to get the curiosity out. Just once more.

- continued.