Mistakes and Inconsistencies
By MorbidMystery
- 288 reads
She is pacified now, laying down with a content and peaceful demeanor. It's not always that way. As a matter of fact, a few weeks ago, we were thrashing around on the floor in an attempt to dissuade her from another revolt. She likes to go outside. She likes it a lot.
I used to keep her in the attic with plenty of space to maneuver around. However, the outsiders would catch glimpses of her peeking out through the bars of the only window and then start in with THEIR antics. Some would jeer, some would run away in horrific mortification, and yet others would taunt her to venture an escape.
She's fiery she is, lots of spunk. That's why it is so damned hard to control her. It became necessary to relocate her to the basement. I couldn't put up with the howling, the pleading, the whining. There was just too much temptation for her upstairs. I know, trust me I know how cruel it sounds to keep her locked up and often it is I that feels like the monster.
I can't honestly say that I blame her for the rage imploding tantrums she throws when all she really wants is a stroll outdoors. Let me ask you, though, which is worse? The merciless teasing that she endures when the others see her because she does not fit their molded idea of what is normal or the safety that is offered inside of a well protected environment?
I love her and I do not want for her to suffer, yet my love suffocates. Often I do not know if I am trying to protect her or them or perhaps a little bit of both? At least, downstairs when her urges rise to the surface the walls are insulated so that those outside can not hear her screams for mercy.
The padded lining is not enough to keep us from recoiling away from one another. I do the best I can to surpress my resentment. If I am lucky, then the arguments do not end in profanity and instead only fizzle down to self loathing. I have attempted many times to help her adjust to society's rebukement and always to no avail.
She's crafty she is, lots of ingenuity. Time passes and I ease the restrictions I have placed upon her. Eventually, she finds a way to get past me and slip outside. I vow to myself that the next time will be different. I will be more vigilante. The next time always the next time.
She is Me and I am Her-My Muse
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