Strange Romance (First Written 21 February 2012)

I knew there was something different about Jamie the moment I met him. In fact, now I come to think of it, I had known there was something strange before I had ever met him in person.

I'd been single for a year and was looking for something new. People around town were so boring, so... 'normal'. I was always attracted to the abnormal. People who lived outside the borders of society. I was attracted to the anarchy and the danger of a man who understood no difference between right and wrong.

Sure, Klaus had been different – it wasn't everyday a woman fell in love with a cannibal. At first it turned me on, listening to a human heart sizzling in a frying pan; watching Klaus' huge arms tense as he sliced brain matter. But he lived in his house, he listened to Beethoven and didn't want to see the world. I wanted to see the world and more.,

After a year of searching for my match in the clubs, I gave up and gave in to the Internet. I joined a dating site. For three weeks I trawled through pictures of men who claimed they were 'fun', 'crazy' and 'not like anybody else'. I'd almost given up, even looked on the animal rescue website for cute cats, when I saw him. Pale skin. Dark, dark eyes. Crimson lips. Jamie. My match. He stuck out from the rest. He liked midnight strolls, he'd seen the world and he was experienced.

We met under a full moon. He said he felt spiritual under the moonlight. I felt spiritual in his eyes. Like he had a hypnotic power in those dark eyes, that touched my soul and caressed every inch of my skin. The smoothness of his voice, the coolness of his skin, the feel of his sharp teeth on my neck.

It only took that one meeting to know he was 'the one'. He wasn't like any other man. He was dominant and powerful, yet polite and deadly calm.

We're still in the early stages of the relationship, but he has invited me over for dinner at his house next week. He tells me he's done well for himself, and owns a huge manor near the docks. He loves Victorian Gothic and tells me he collects strange artifacts. He says he thinks we'll be together forever, as long as I don't bring garlic into the house... It must be the smell I suppose.

The Other Woman (First Written 12 February 2012)

I feel my soul shrivel and fade within my tired body. I see the woman. She is beautiful. Her back is straight and her skin glows. Her hair shines deep chocolate, swishing around her delicate hips. I wrap my frail hands around my skinny frame. I can see what he saw in her.

I don't know what I did wrong. I don't know when the change started, but it is too late to change things now. I could surrender and let him go, but he would not leave. My loyal man. The man I continue to love, although I know he wants to leave. I will surrender one day.

While I lay in my bed, old and tired, I see her in his eyes. Her glossy hair and healthy skin. My bones are like sticks and my skin is dry leather. I am not the girl he loves. My hair lies in curls on the pillow where I rest my restless head. My stomach is empty and hollow where there could have been life. My heart is weak and suffering. And still he sees the woman. He tries to do it in private but I have caught him. I do not punish. I do not even gasp. I have barely enough breath to keep going, but I do. My heart faintly drums on amidst the pain. And like a wounded animal, I drag myself on through this madness, trying to heal an opening that has not ceased bleeding.

I am going to die. I have accepted this, but he has not. He no longer speaks to me. He no longer sits with me. I lie alone in my bed, while he briefly looks me over, to check my chest is still rising. I see her in his eyes. I know he will be seeing her in the room below me. As dawn creeps closer, as the end creeps closer, that video with the beautiful woman I barely know, wearing my white gown on my glowing skin, swishing my long brown hair around my hips, continues to play.