What a night. My stomach hurts. My face is hot. I regret everything I have done and yet I feel it could not have happened any other way. I am not sure if I will ever see the mysterious stranger again, but I suppose I should start from the beginning.
I went to the ridiculous festival, just as my mother desired.
She fretted and fussed over me even as we were walking out of the door. I dressed in a pair of smart gray slacks, button up shirt, matching jacket and a tie with just a hint of green. I have always adored the color green in all its shades. Perhaps it is because of the outdoors. Whatever the reason behind it, green has been and perhaps shall ever be, my favorite color.
Of course, my father did not accompany us. With my mother clinging tenderly to my arm, the two of us made our way into town. It is only a short distance to walk and so we strolled. Mother seemed radiant today in a spring dress and holding a parasol. She complained of the sun hurting her eyes for a while, but soon it started to dip towards the horizon and she came alive.
It was almost hard to keep up with her. If I did not know better, I would believe she was a teenager the way she flitted about from stand to stand, babbling to those in attendance. People commented about how young she looked and wanted to know her secrets to youthful appearance and beauty. Eventually I was able to leave her with some cackling women to discuss skin creams and other such.
Just as I had planned, I visited the sweets stands, spending pocket money on sticks of crystallized sugar and some taffy. It all tasted divine against my tongue. I avoided the chocolates for as long as I could, but ended up buying some homemade fudge and sneaking off to a dark corner to indulge in my sinful pleasures.
The night wore on. I avoided the dance as best I could.
I made sure that my eyes never connected with any lady’s and did not see my mother for hours into the night.
The bonfire was lovely. Lapping flames climbed high into the sky like orange fingers reaching towards the stars. I hated to admit that I was having a nice time, even if I was alone in the crowd.
The anticipation of seeing the mysterious stranger had died down and there was only a feeling of peace inside of me. Eventually I realized that I was procrastinating the meeting and drifted slowly towards the back of the sweets shop.
By now it was incredibly dark and the moon was high in the sky overhead. Stars dotted the black abyss above me as I leaned back against the wall. I stared thoughtfully at all those stars, marveling at the majesty of the world.
I did not hear him approach, but somehow I knew he was there, watching me. I remember how every hair upon my body stood on end and my breath hitched in my throat. My heart started to beat faster and warmth spread in my body to places I could not understand.
The way the stranger set my soul aflame was inhuman and wrong. However, I did not move from my spot. I kept my eyes on those stars, waiting for him to come closer or perhaps keep his distance.
Eventually he approached, moving so that I could feel his body at my right elbow. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him removing his white gloves and carefully fitting them into his pocket. His scent invaded my senses. He smelled of tea, musk and spices. It was sinfully divine and my stomach roiled in confusion. My head throbbed and the stars above me began to spin.
I am not certain what he said when he first spoke. I believe it was normal pleasantries. He presented me with another small box of chocolates, which I held in trembling hands.
Then we stood in silence. I was so confused and I still am.
Eventually the silence was not good enough for him. The stranger moved, placing both hands on either side of my head. I clutched the box of chocolates to my chest as he moved in closer, ghosting his nose against my cheek, down my neck and across my jaw.
It was wrong! And yet my body has never felt so alive.
“You are so beautiful.”
I remember him clearly. He purred it out like an animal. The words rumbled from his chest like some big cat. It wasn’t human, it could not have been. I cannot believe this man is human. I just cannot! No human being can make a man feel this way! He must be some kind of devil and I am bewitched!
He removed his top-hat; I remember that before I shut my eyes tight. My entire body was trembling and I still clutched that box of chocolates as if it would protect me. He bent forward and I could feel his breath upon my lips. His scent invaded me again and his breath smelled faintly of wine…and blood.
This should have shocked me, sickened me!...But all it did was stir my loins.
He was so close to kissing me and I was so close to letting him, but there was an alarm in my mind, my heart, my very soul. Something inside of me snapped and with a commanding presence I have never known my body to exude, I lifted two fingers and pressed them against his lips.
“My kiss does not belong to you.”
What did that even mean!? I am crying now in frustration and confusion because I am not certain what I meant. His eyes went wide as I looked up at him. I pushed him back and after the second of confidence I felt small and afraid. Would he accept my rejection or attack me?
I dropped to my knees and threw open the box of chocolates, stuffing them into my face for comfort. I could feel him looming over me. I dared not look up at his face. I was far too frightened to see his reaction. However, what I told him was true. I do not know how I know this, but my lips, my body, my heart…they do not belong to him.
I have never been one for romance and my father would strike me if I ever told him such non-sense, but there is this feeling as if someone out there is waiting for me.
As I drank in that stranger’s scent, especially when his bloody breath hit my nose, I felt the pulse of someone…something.
There is another devil in this world and whoever that devil may be, I belong to it.
If there is a God, I pray She save me, for I clearly do not have the capacity to save myself.
I am crying too hard to write anymore, Journal. Forgive me but perhaps I can continue this later. Though, I fear someone might read it so…this may be the last I ever speak of this secret burning within and the devil who owns my heart.