I once did, but in my inability to understand myself, I stopped. Why it is does not matter to me. It simply is, and I must have it.Master did not put me here. I did. My fears must be real in order to be faced. Is this real? It's as close as I can get, and I am thankful for it.Somewhere in the blackness I see, there are memory clips, moments out of time, my moments of anguish. I see a pickup truck pulling out of a driveway, boxes stacked in any empty house, a house that had been a home but is no longer. The home that was is in the boxes. My mother is crying, the sound of her quiet sobbing forms the soundtrack of my life.I will not cry, for my Master is near. My Master will come for me. I hear footfalls crunching the fallen leaves. He is here. My Master says nothing, but I feel him in the air. I hear the snap of scissors, opening and closing. I feel the taut hem of my dress relax as it is cut slowly up the middle. I feel the coldness of the back of the scissor blade as it slides. She then said, “Let’s go in my car,” to which I agreed happily. I paid the bill. We both came outside the cafe and walked towards her car. She had asked me to drive. I took the keys from her. We both got into the car and moved from there.We decided to go to a restaurant which was almost on the outskirts of the city. I drove out of the city and we were almost on the highway. It was mid-noon so there were fewer vehicles. She was frequently adjusting her hair over her ears which was flying due to the air. She was looking at me and talking.She nods her head when listening to me. Her neck bone and her smile making me crazier about her. She then asked me to ride the car slow as we had a lot of time. I took the car to one side of the lane and was riding slowly. After some time she asked me to close all the windows as the air was hot at that time.I closed all the windows and turned on the ac. After moving for a few minutes, she had kept her hand on my thighs. I thought it was accidental, but.
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