Chapter 2. Bed of Roses

ALICIA CHAY

There I was in Chad, Africa as a little girl with hazel eyes. Instead of believing I was special and worthy of Life and worthy of all the gifts waiting to unfold before my young, veil-covered eyes....the lace was dreadfully snatched away the day I fell in love and gave my body to a man that was a self-proclaimed god and seducer of other women when I grew older.

Of course, I was young and naïve during those god-awful times. I didn’t know he slept with other women; women like me.

He picked and chose them in secret and with discretion. The women Like Me were so enchanting they swore they’d remain silent, and they had, discussing only amongst each other how good he was, and how deep he could go, and how many orgasms they could count.

Twenty women, all Like Me! From all over the Mother Land! Held their “congregation” deep in the forest, down by a huge, glimmering lake filled with fish and life and gorgeous flowers spreading for miles and as far as the eyes could see!

A secret garden a few miles outside of my village, in a remote area, we were warned and prohibited from seeking. And no one in the Village had broken those laws, except me, because I loved learning from the Land…

One night I awakened with a start. I saw my friend’s mother, Larshaw, creeping from her hut. There wasn’t a light source in sight. The moon’s glow failed to reach the Village that night. Any other night the glow was strong enough to cast a light that guided us in the remote darkness, since our village was twelve miles from Town and the Upper Market Place.

Larshaw and I never really spoke to one another. I was a teenager, and she was an adult. It was forbidden by the Village to engage in chit chatter with an adult that wasn’t your parent, brother, sister or Elder.

Elders could speak to whomever. Unfortunately, they were the biggest whores in all the land. I loved my Village, but the politics of it all overwhelmed me.

I could hardly do a thing by myself. When I go to the marketplace, a man of the Village had to escort me. Women were snatched along dirt roads garnished with trees of all kinds, and disapprovingly deflowered along with their self-esteem and environmental teachings.

I heard little murmurs that awakened me. I followed the sound, barefooted. I got myself and my drive, determination, arrogance, and wit together, and boldly went after the gentle sound of what sounded like ecstasy or, or pleasure or whatever it was.

The animals were mating, but the memory of Larshaw running into the mysterious forest contradicted the animal theory, and I treaded lightly, one foot over the other.

I reached another break in the forest. The unraveled, winding path made of leaves and soft mulch relaxed me; a path created from the number of times twenty pairs of feet followed it to wherever it led.

I paused as I came upon a life-sized cliff. I was two hundred feet above the earth. Behind me lay the horror of a darkened forest with no light, creatures crawled, snakes slithering, rats roamed, something scarier than life itself lurked. It danced on my sweaty, dirty skin. I followed the winding path to a large bridge that was made from the trees of the forest.

It took my breath away. My mouth agape, I heard it, another voice.

Proceed, my Curious Child, my Break the Rules Child, Cross the Bridge into Understanding.

And I ran! I ran and I ran! Something was appearing over the horizon as the bridge led me to an open portico made of flowers, the leaves from trees and branches and hanging Spanish moss. I slowed down and covered my mouth. It was gorgeous. Amazing. Resilient! I was caught off guard by the twenty women...

Loving each other.

Touching.

I awakened with a start, pushing away the memories. Before I knew it, I burst into tears, and he held me tight to his body.

“It’s okay, young lady. I don’t know what you’ve been through, but you’re safe here.”

His words didn’t register in my brain. They didn’t even make it to my ears. I wept. I let go. I snot cried. I cried so hard my body trembled remembering who I used to be. I refused to be what I was forced to be.

I hesitantly moved forward in the darkness because the further I ventured, the darker it became.

I didn’t know how to deal with this. How did I live my life when I lost my life? How did I make something of the other side of this life if I didn’t even want to let go of who I used to be.

I loved my friends; I loved my family. I would even take the betrayal I went through during my transition over becoming what I transitioned into.

Slowly, we began to kiss. 

His lips were eager and cautious. When he pulled away from me, tucking a few long dangling curls  behind my ear lobes, he suddenly pushed me down and jumped three hundred feet backward over a pit of gators, landing on a cliff a hundred feet above.

It was then that I understood why his face was shaded.

“Why is your entire face covered in blood?”

“My face is just fine. What are you talking about?”

“My garments have your blood as well. I don’t even know if I can wash your purity from my fabrics. And I hate the smell of blood.”

“You don’t have a nose. How is that possible? You don’t have a forehead; you don’t even have hair. Who are you to judge? As a matter of fact, you resemble the totem pole that cracked open when my body made impact. Faceless beings carved in stone.”

“How do you remember that if you were unconscious?”

“I remember bits and pieces. “

“You set me free with that act, thank you. I’ve been sealed in this cave for years. Once the seal was cracked, the rush of fresh air inside this place rejuvenated my loins.”

I was in a cave, deep within, that was true. I did feel a strong cool breeze. Lanterns gave off a soft, warm glow. I gasped from the simplicity of it all. He smiled when I sat up on a comfortable bed of roses by a pit of gators and snakes.

Before I could stand up, something wild grabbed ahold of me. It happened after the smell of his blood entered my nose. I looked at him with crazed eyes as he smiled inwardly...

I didn’t care about him taking me to a safe place. The girl that I used to be would have thanked him for such a beautiful gesture, but I knew that girl no longer. She was lost within my subconscious until she vanished. I was a savage beast that craved blood.

I hissed at the strange man, startling him. I leapt over three enormous pits of gators and rocky breaks. A few gators jumped up in the air with supernatural agility, trying to pull me out of the air, but I dodged them.

I didn’t know what he did to me when I was out of it. What if he performed a ritual over me, or put a spell on me, or did something sexually indecent to me? Men thought differently when women were unconscious.

The smell of his blood was enticing, like a sweet treat. When I landed in front of him, I cut him across the neck and began to drink. I saw his life in quick spurts.

I saw him approach me when I was unconscious. He picked me up gently and walked along the stream. If he was locked inside the cave, how did he get out?

Then I remembered the crack in the stone totem pole. He waved his hands and the divided stones opened and closed back magically when he entered with one pair of footprints in the sand.

I saw all the other humans he has done this for. He treated them all with respect. I looked at him differently knowing that he could be trusted. And then an image entered my head through the taste of his blood as it continued to deliciously fall down my throat, of him circling my nipples with confidence in his touch, of him tracing his fingertips down to the pubic hair of my vulva.

That’s when everything changed. Why out of all the people he helped I was the one he did this to. I knew that smile couldn’t be trusted. Anybody that didn’t have eyes with a beautiful smile you needed to run away from like hell.

Don’t be a fool like me, laying on a bed of roses looking up at a man that did unforgettable things to me when I was in a deep sleep.

He was never sealed in the Cave.