Fire in Her Eyes
She saw the spider crawl on the fading blue painted walls of her home. She timidly headed for the broom with the brush end facing the rather large, hairy, strange looking spider. She attempted to hit it. It then flew on her and she stood still, very still as if the spider found its home and she had no other choice but to submit. It crawled from her chest all the way up to her face and then up to her head, then flew back on the wall. She frowned in confusion. She then decided to leave the spider alone. She hated things that crawled but living in a warm climate meant that living things enjoyed the warmth as it gave them the freedom to be. She understood this term of warmth and freedom in more ways she could ever imagine. Therefore, she understood the spider even though she resented its size, hair, and crawling patterns. She looked at the spider with her eyes following its movements, slowly. She wondered where he or she was really going. She continued following it, really hoping that it would find its way through the open window where it seems was its true paradise, its true home. He was a flying spider, she thought. She never saw anything like it, yet she felt like she knew it. The spider ended up by the corner of the wide opened window. As a gush of warm breeze flooded in the room , the spider still did not move as the breeze hit her and caressed her face and uncombed curls. Then suddenly it stopped, and there was a slight grey cloud in the sky, the warm air was getting cooler. When she heard the door swing open, he walked in like a god and she plastered a smile of praise.
He quietly closed the door behind him and stood with both elegance and power. She and he had an air of unspoken words flooding between them. It was almost like they were singing to each other in a silent film. They both stood silently facing each other for a few moments more, then she broke it. The film reel stopped, and the record broke as she started walking slowly towards him. The cool air felt better than the warmth. The warmth that kept soaring through her veins and would not stop, screaming with pelts of sweat swimming out of her pores. The cool air felt like a kiss of ice, the cool air that was him standing there, the ocean, he glared at her with his coolness. The warmth was fading, slowly, more and more, he then touched her hand and the burning flame within her finally died. And she felt at ease once again, seeing him not affected by the heat that surrounded them, seeing that he stood in assurance that he was not defeated like she was by the forces that surrounded her. She clanged to him then, in a knowing passion he recognized, and he breathed cool air down her wet skin sending prickles of ice on her. He then looked into her eyes and showed her the ocean. She surrendered to this heaven. They kissed passionately for while his hand swirled around her like a strong unforeseen wave, turning her hips towards the nearest table like an angry wave does, stripping clothes and drowning her with thrusts from behind. She gripped hard onto the table. Sometimes she felt so overwhelmed by his coolness, she started to shed some of his water through her eyes. She felt numb like the cool air that now turned to a soft scent of rain. She then looked to the corner of the window for her spider friend, but it was gone.
After the ocean simmering ordeal, he bathed, dressed, and walked out to where she sat. She was dressed in a black cotton dress and had dark makeup on. He frowned a little. “Where did you get money to buy makeup?’ She replied, “I have had this since last month don’t you remember?” He smiled and she saw water gush out of his mouth and she was ready to swim in it once again. “Do not talk , just sing to me , it eases my pain , this world , so hard , so much toil, not enough, do that for me, just sing to me , my currents are too strong my love , they are just to strong. He walked towards her slowly. Kneeling before her, he looked into her eyes one by one for a moment. She wondered what he was looking for. She began to get nervous, maybe she had done something to add torment to the sea, once again. She answered back with a look of apology. He then touched her hand gently, reminding her she was being overcome again by her emotions. She needed to stay still, she needed to breathe, and so he helped her do that. He helped her calm down. And so, the flame flickered. She was at ease. He rested his head on her lap and she began to sing a sweet song to him. She stroked her hand on his face, “I hope my hands are not too warm”. He got up swiftly, like a current that has been swayed the wrong way, “I told you not to talk my love , I can only fathom sound the sweet sound of your controlled voice.” He then started to bleed. The water was not the fresh, cool, salty water she usually saw, but it had a trail of blood red seeping out of his eyes. She saw it. She saw the torment, and apologetically walked slowly to him, picked him and cleaned the blood. She felt so sorry, and he saw it, and understood. She then cradled him on her chest. She then started singing, without talking. She sang to him and she knew, by doing this, it would help him once again. He would be the once calm ocean she dived into when she first saw it. When the fire in her started to cool and she became normal once again, he was her medication and he did not know it. He helped her with the fire, the fire is now gone. Now, she must do the same. As long as she lives, she will return the favour for a once soothing and picturesque blue and green water.
In the days that followed, she cooked, cleaned, and did what a tormented soul would love when they come home, a place of ease. Then the season changed one day and over the land, a heat evaded the cool air and caused the land to feel like a drought that way. The leaves were sweltering. She had a small garden she tended to daily, but today she had to cover her skin, for she fears she will get burnt and not look pretty enough for him. So, she geared up and stepped outside. The sun was blazing beneath her hat and sweat was gathering around her temple. She looked at the blooming roses she planted. She immediately felt a spark beneath her chest, they needed their usual dose of love. And so, she watered them, talked to them, they swayed, and through the overbearing heat, she saw them bloom more in her mind’s eye. The sun was starting to cool a little bit though still shining brightly. She eventually went inside and finished up her daily chores. When she was done, the broom she was holding was starting to get hot. She felt like she was burning up again, and he was not here. She started to pant and instinctually grabbed a glass of water. She exhaled a deep sigh of relief. She looked up to once see the spider by the window. She watched it with a meticulous gaze until it stopped moving. She stepped back and looked away. Then, there was loud sound going off, the fan. The electricity went out. She started to shake her head as she knew this meant she would be even more drenched. She decided to go into her room and took her clothes off to shower. She then saw something beautiful on the wall, a blue butterfly. She at that moment, stood in awe of such beauty. She has seen many butterflies but never a blue one. She hoped to catch it in a jar when she finished showering. She knew she had to be very quiet, for butterflies are always in their own world. They know their life destiny is never to be captured. So, she did everything quietly, came back, found a small jar and captured the blue beauty. She dug holes in it with a knife and decided that this would be her pet, no offense to her spider friend who still stood in the same place on the wall. She seemed to forget how the heat melted everything in its path including her and started a flame somewhere beneath her feet.
“My love, how long do you think this will last?” She asked him as they both sat in the small living room. He was on edge the entire night of the power outage. His feet tossed to and fro. She tried and failed to calm him this time. She asked random questions in hopes to calm him and she prayed internally that this would not lead to them both drowning as they had been in many times before. She knew that he was used to drowning but she still liked to cling to shore before in fear of the deep. He breathed heavy sighs, then said, “You know I hate candles, so not long my love, not long.”
“Do you like the butterfly I caught, isn’t she the rare and she’s-
“It is dark, how can I see something beautiful when it’s so dark in here.”
“Well when it does come back you will see her.”
He got up swiftly and her heartbeat began to quicken as his shuffled feet, which sounded like music notes out of tuned.
“Her, she, how does one know these things?”
“I did not know, I just assumed, it could be a he as well, would you like some music love?”
“THERE IS NO POWER , YOU IDIOT!” She shuddered and got up. This was her cue, she had to step in and tame the storm. She had to not make this about herself. She had to make sure his doses would not stop and so she stood in the middle of turbulent waves.
“ I know, I must have forgotten, what, what I meant to say is I can sing something for you, or even play the piano, you know just like old times and we could dance in the dark! Oh, I know you have two left feet sometimes but you still know how to move me with your gentle current and I can pretend to be a damsel in distress , we could just be happy , we could-“
The turbulence began that night as it had always done previous nights before, and it was always during a time of distress or late in the hours where the love of her life sunk his hand into the depths of hell, all the ocean water became dried up, and an unexpected wave tended to crush her, sinking her in his very depths of despise and an anger disguised as his love for her. As it did this night, the wave was seen at the corner of her eye when his hand flicked back and pulled her in. This wave completely knocked her out flat on the ocean’s bed sending her to the very depth of his darkness. The sound after this was inaudible. She felt a throbbing pain In her knees, head and eventually her back. She lay there with eyes closed and some swollen flesh, surrounded in water with no lights, even the candles were out. There was no flame once again except for the one beneath her feet, the one that added warmth, while he thrusted more waves in her. The warmth of the flame put her to sleep.
The days that followed were silent, they were cool and silent. Some days were mellow, others were chaotic. And when the chaos raged so did the ocean and the fire knocked to the earth repeatedly. Now today, had its own birth, the storms had now settled and life again was beautiful and serene, no drowning, it just was what it was supposed to be, what it had hoped to be. She woke up one morning to find the butterfly hoping about the jar. She stared at the creature for a while, hoping that it would talk back to her. She knew butterflies are meant to be free, so she gazed for as long as she could and if she had a camera she would take it with glee, but now she had to keep it in memory and hoped that one day it would come back. She watched it struggle and fail to fly. As some of his water escaped her eye, she remembered she would see him soon, and hoped that once again the cooling would begin. She picked up the jar and opened the lid slowly. The butterfly was at the roof ready to go and when she lifted it, it flew out but not outside, just like the spider, it just stayed on the wall batting its wings. She smiled to herself and let it be. She went about her day. While the heat evaporated the wet earth, the fire started to rumble beneath her and so her eyes started to unknowingly become a colour that looked like specks of yellow and orange when the sunlight hit, for the change was sudden just like the season.
He came home that evening; the temperatures were beginning to swelter, “This, I hope, disappears soon because-“
She comes out with a red dress on and sits next to the small dust piano playing something soft and melodious. He looked at her play from the side and his heart felt an ease, one that he had not felt in a while. He walked in with temperatures rising and gently tapped her on the shoulder.
“That was beautiful, you can stop now, the tides are just perfect.” He turned her around to kiss her and stepped back like a wave pulling all the sand of the ocean back, taking nothing and everything at the same time.
“What is it my love?”
“Your lips, feel too warm, what did you do?”
“Nothing, I’m sorry I mean it must have been this heat.” She got up and walked to him carefully, tiptoeing.
“Look at me, just look at me, it’s me , your love.” His breathing slowed as she reached out and touched his face, stroking it.
“Much better, maybe it’s the dress, it’s too red.”
“Yes, I was just trying to impress you, I will go change.” Before she turned to walk, he grabbed her by the arm and stared into her eyes for a long, silent moment. She remained unmoved.
“Wear the black one.” Later that night, after an ordeal of intense passion and some torrent suffered by his everchanging violent wave, she decided to look into the small, cracked makeup mirror she had. She was never one to stare in the mirror and notice her appearance, only when she had to get dressed up for him, but this time remembering the freedom of the butterfly she decided to look. By the window under the brilliantly lit moonlight, she lit a candle, opened the compact, cracked mirror and saw as her eyes widened, a brilliant flame with yellow and orange specks. When she softened it, it turned brown. She swallowed hard and looked at the moon. She had not done that in a while. Her heart started to beat faster. She knew it was coming, she felt it in her belly.
The days grew hotter, the nights even more. Her eyes looked more fiery each day. The water could not do anything lately. It was as if the tidal waves had no more power. He had not touched he in days, and she was yearning to be drenched but he, intent on keeping the waters to himself, withheld the magic from her and she internally grew resentful. Although, he did not hesitate to devour her with his darkness in the midnight hours. One very bright morning, she was cooking on the stove, the flame beneath the pot was brightly lit, and she just stared at it. She stared until she felt something appear, the spider. He or she was right above her, staring. She blamed the spider for this. She blamed the spider for her rage, the way he rejected her these days, the way his darkness was more than his clear blue light. She decided to pick up the broom to smash it. It instinctively crawled all over the place in a frantic motion and with the flying ability it possessed, flew all around, eventually hitting nothing. She started to twirl in what looked like a frantic state of madness and just when she turned, heat started to form beneath the earth and lit her toes. There were small flames on her toes. She looked down at it and forgot all about the spider and stared at it for a long moment. She sat down and looked at it, like a bunch of burning candles, blew them out. She was drenched in sweat and slowly looked around for the spider, but it was nowhere to be seen.
That night, she took a long shower, but even the shower was warm, so she saw steam radiating from her body. She hoped that this would cool the flames down for a while at least until season passes. When the ocean springs up again, she can once run into its arms and he would accept her with all the love she knew he had. She prayed then and there in the shower, naked, hopeful but felt an uneasy wave in the depths of her stomach.
He walked in slowly closing the door behind him. His straight hair pasted on his sweaty skin. He did not know when this season of burning would end because he was drying up, the water was starting to become too hot, he started to slightly imagine what it felt like to be fire. He could not fathom the pain, he knew he would crumble, he would not be who he was when he was water. The water made him feel powerful, he could command and destroy with one wave, he could control the desires of the outer world. He was one powerful element and he would not trade that in for any other weak force, not even her. With all the unseen fire she contained, she could change him. He had to keep her stable. He had to find some way to make her appealing to him again. He believed his destiny was to protect her from the world, and from herself. Whatever blows of waves he gave to her was to restore her to life, bring her back to him every time he felt a flame coming. This tactic always worked. But this season made it difficult , so he had to use his creativity .
When she finished showering, she sat to fix her hair. She wore a blue dress this time and though she was sweating profusely, she still believed there was hope amongst the heat pandemic and the comeback of the healing water to restore everything to life once again. However, beneath her feet, the earth did not seem to agree as she felt her heal create spark when she grazed the floor. She decided to tiptoe then, maybe the earth would not be so affected by her raging insides. She then heard the faint sound of a melody on the piano, which sounded like a wave returning home.
As she finished dressing, she waltzed in the living room like a ballerina to see him playing in the dark of the night. He was in a crouched position and she saw his fingers tap the keys as water spilled out from his tips. He was not looking well.
“That sounds beautiful my love.” He kept playing for quite some time. And she threaded lightly to him, sat next to him, and watched his face from the side. The half face of the half ocean she knew, she leaned in to kiss him hoping to become watered. He returned the favour with forceful, hot waters. Eventually he stopped playing and started ripping her dress. The earth grew hotter and so did she. He threw her on the ground and though she felt the passion, she also felt an unseen rage coming from the earth, she felt sick, very sick. His water was drying, he was burning, and she knew he hated her for it. He rolled her over and she placed her palms on the ground and a flame sprang up on both her hands. He finished with dry water thrusting, stepped back and watched in horror.
“ You, you’re the devil, you are the reason my water has no power, you drained me, you used me, you are the daughter of darkness, you need prayer , I’m dragging you to the church.”
“My love no, please, I can control it, no, please.” He grabbed her by the waist, forcing her to the door, but she was moved by hand. She then managed to kick him to the ground, he fell, and she again placed her hands on the floor, this time fire radiated from her hands to her knees. There were candles nearby. He saw them and got up, water dripping all over the ground and he tried to blow them out with fail. He then breathed in one last breath of water slamming the candles on the ground causing the home they lived in to be engulfed in flames.
“My love, what did you do?” She screamed and he watched around as the roof started crumbling and she engulfed in flames without moving without falling apart. And at that moment, fireflies dwelled outside in a swarm and she saw that they were waiting for her. She turned to run out the room when he lunged and grabbed her burning his hands.
“This was not supposed to be!!! please don’t leave me, my love.” She looked into his eyes and he into hers for they were now filled with fire, and fire needed to be free, just like water, but seeing that his water was starting to look like blue and black poison, she knew she had to burn on her own, she knew she had to leave him be.
“No my love, I can’t .” She turned to leave. As he reached out to grab her, pieces of roof debris fell on him, making her fall as well. He was trapped, and she watched him tear filled and tried to reach out her hands to him but black and blue water gushed out and he started to melt and there soon was a big explosion that flooded the entire area. Even though the fire was still burning, she knew he was the toxic water surrounding her and she had to swim out of there to the lady bugs that were calling out to her and so she did, as the place crumbled she made it out alive.
The area looked serene. It was a small country house, and inside felt like home, it was filled with feminine touches of tender love. She looked around at the grand magic of a simple home. She was able to create a small garden outside with colourful roses and inside, artificial ones, decorative and appealing to the eye. On the wooden walls, there were paintings of artists she admired hanging silently and profoundly by sturdy nails. She sat at her work desk and created candles from scratch to sell. Though the fire was tamed, there were still times she would light them without a match to create a serene flame, a flame that brought warmth instead of destruction. The sun was descending, creating a mirage of orange and red over the horizon. She looked out the window and welcomed its goodbye and the garden so close to her, the girl she could see in her little blue dress watering refreshing drinks to the plants and flowers from her hands. The earth became happy and around the child there were butterflies that danced around her which she occasionally tried to catch. She then turned to look at her with her eyes flaming yet calming. The child pointed to the ocean, and the mother nodded her head. Mother then stared at the soft waves of this painting and admired its serene as always, feeling a sense of calm, as the sun soon disappeared.