constance

[killjoyed]

he woke to the absence of her sharp bones and warm hollows, groaning to himself as fingers splayed across his face, pushing cinderella soot hair from the tips of his eyelashes. the ex-artist could still feel the strum of her fingers playing his ribs like they were her cello, that beautiful boat that haunted his dreams with it's worried drone.

"constance baby, where are you?" he murmured as gummy eyes came apart, sutured by heavy nights of vodka and dope. "oh christ, my head.."

lucian slipped out of her bed, naked as the morning he slid screaming from his mother's womb.

"constance..?"

the phone rang; it made him jump.

<font color="#000000" size="1">[ October 01, 2006 12:34 AM: Message edited by: killjoyed ]</font>

[edit]

she slumped into the couch, the ache radiating from deep in her bones to the surface of skin. "fuck man, i can't do this much longer." she spoke to moshe and ash, who stared up at her like they could understand anything she said. she pinched the joint between her fingers, eyeing it for a long moment before she plugged her mouth up. there were few things that dulled the pain, drugs were one of them.

"not like, living but dealing with chemo and shit." it wore her down more than the cancer did. "i don't wanna lose my hair again!" it was a beggar's catcall to the heavens. "i just wanna live and not deal with doctor's appointments all the time and fuckin' radiation." she didn't cry even if her voice faultered and threatened to crack under the weight of her burden.

"there's gotta be other shit." she groaned, cheeks hollowing out and head filling with smoke. "i'll find some other shit. fuck chemo. i'll talk to my doctor tomorrow." her conversation with the mutts ended when she climbed to her feet and moved down the hall. "i feel like i need to get lucian something..." she tagged onto the end. "i dunno what he'd want. guess i better figure that shit out." she silenced herself, not wanting to ramble on with her gift ideas as she collapsed onto the bed beside him. naked as the day she was born she sprawled out across him and prayed for a better tomorrow.

[edit]

she stared down at the devil dogs, leaning forward to flick their horns. "what the fuck?" she straightened out, arms crossing her chest and twining together.

"did lucian dress you guys up?" ash aarfed, drawling his bark out into a whine as he plopped down and sprawled; dejected. "it isn't that bad..." she dropped down onto the ground, folding up her legs like origami beneath her. "i'll buy you guys a treat or somethin'. it could have been worse, ya know?"

the dogs looked skeptical.

"you could have been dressed up like princesses."

they stopped whining, suddenly seeming to appreciate the doggie devil costumes a little more.

<font color="#000000" size="1">[ October 10, 2006 04:18 PM: Message edited by: vodka slurs ]</font>

[edit]

she was another year older and found it amazing she'd made it to twenty-seven. she eyed herself in the mirror, fingers dragging along too thin skin to eye her face for wrinkles before inspecting her hair for strands of grey. "i know i'm not that old, but i sure as hell feel it," she murmured to the mutts who sprawled down at her feet. a cigarette idled between her lips as she moved from the bathroom, dissipating the halo of smoke that had clouded her atmosphere. she dragged her hands down her sides and headed for the door. "don't tell lucian it's my birthday, he might try and pull some goddamn prank or somethin'. i dunno." her shoulders rolled and she shrugged it off. out the door she was heading to the doctor's for yet another check-up.

<font color="#000000" size="1">[ October 14, 2006 02:54 AM: Message edited by: vodka slurs ]</font>

[edit]

she stirred in her drunken stupor, exhaustion still weighing heavy of her limbs. "hey baby," she slurred with sleep and from too much vodka. "holy shit, you found me." moshe whined and nudged at a rail thin leg. her body ached with chill and a night of sleeping on a hard bench.

"i'm so glad to see you, i get so lonely sleeping without you," she whispered, brushing her fingers through his hair. ash and moshe both got a ruffle of their ears as she sat up with a groan. "what do you wanna get, like...mcdonald's breakfast or something?" she didn't know, she usually just had guinness for breakfast.

[edit]

hours were spent scribbling nonsense into paper, worst case scenerio plans transferred onto paper for fear of never getting her verbal wishes out. on the fridge, she stuck an envelope with his name scrawled across the front in green sharpie. 'lucian'. inside was a letter, that she would have given to him and explained had she not been running late for a parent-teacher conference. out the door in a blur of floral prints and blues, she left him with the note to read and try and understand in the absence of long limbs and inked skin.

lucian-

i'm writing this letter not because i think i will die, i have no intentions of letting cancer get the best of me. not yet, at least. but i wanted you to have this in case something happens to me and i never get it out there. you're the only person i'd trust with such vital information.

i don't want anyone wearing black to my funeral. and i don't want that fucking funeral dirge playing. you can pick out something fun, something that'll make people smile. if i'm fragile and thin, broken and weak i want it closed casket. i'd prefer people to remember me how i was not what i am when i die. invite who you see fit, not like i have family to worry about. however, if you could get a hold of elliotte, i'd appreciate that.

with all that out of the way, i wanted to thank you. you have given me something to wake up to every morning and think about before i got to sleep. i like your hair, cinderalla soot, and i like your dog. i like the way you murmur in your sleep and the way you smile at me. i like when you talk to me thinking i'm asleep and the way you're fun to get tangled in. i like the tea you bring me, and how you always smell good when you get off work. i like your clothes, more so on me, than you. i like the way you hug me, i like the way you kiss me. i like like that moshe likes you, and the way you come looking for me when i call drunk on my birthday. the list goes on and on and on, but those are the first things that came to my mind.

so thank you for that, lucian. thank you for letting me love you. because god do i love you.


the end,
constance

[edit]

<center>When you said tulips
I knew that you're mine
When I caught you there
Crying in the night
Wearing my jacket
Wearing that smile
I knew that I'd found you

This could be an opportunity

Were you unawares
Did it catch you out?
Or did it break you in
Right from the start
It's as pure as fire
It's as pure as snow
I knew that I'd found you


This could be an opportunity
If you promise to let it grow

'Cos you're the one I love</center>

( bloc party. )

[edit]

the moon howled to constance as she trudged through the city on a mission. she sang her apologies but it was all lost in the static that flooded the swallows of constance's eyes and spilled from her ears. she took the record store by storm in the early morning hours before it had even opened. when the single employee from the store would open up the door for the girl bundled up in layers of clothing to make her appear more than skin and bones; until they looked at stalks for legs.

"hey constance, how's it goin'?" the drug-addled street brat asked from behind a poster matted door.

"same shit, different day."

"cool, cool."

"how're you, judas? how's addy?" she asked without looking up from the neatly packed vinyl that she fingered through.

"i'm okay. i dunno, i haven't talked to her." he lied through his teeth and busied himself with stocking newly released cds in hopes that constance wouldn't notice.

"how's addy?" she repeated, not needing to look at the boy to know his lies.

"we got into a fight. she has a new boyfriend-- oh wait, i mean fiancee." he lamented, acting out his heart being ripped apart to constance's back.

"fiancee? i didn't think she had a boyfriend."

"yeah, well she did, landon or some shit like that." he groaned, slamming the gnarles barkley cd into his forehead repeatedly.

"is he good to her?"

"yeah, i mean, i think so..."

"than you should be happy for her." she plucked up three different records, clutching them under her arm as she headed for the counter. she dropped them beside the register and fumbled through the pockets of lucian's sweatshirt.

"nice hoodie."

"it's my boyfriend's." she chimed while digging up a few dollar bills.

"you have a boyfriend?"

"i've had one! i talk to josie about him all the time."

"well fuck."

"what?"

he groaned. "i was going to ask you to dinner."

"sorry man, i'm pretty head over heels for this kid." she shrugged, tossing three twenties onto the counter.

"i never pictured you for the love type."

"yeah, fuckin' love just sneaks up on your ass, judas. i swear to god." taking her records, she shuffled toward the door and with a wave tossed back over her shoulder.


and all it had taken was one broken boy.

[edit]

constance sat across from the parents of michael murphy, sophomore and violinist brat. prim and proper, it was no surprise that michael had turned out the way he did. with a crow's beak nose that seemed to always be stuck upward, his mother, nani, didn't seem to understand what authority constance had. with her myriad of tattoos and mess of brown hair, her demands were met with nothing but a devilish smile. though that was in part to the mask that constance was wearing.

"why are wearing a mask?"

"why should it matter?"

"it's odd." the stout father replied with a grunt.

"i'm an odd woman." constance could see by the looks on their faces that neither of them liked odd.

"halloween is coming. dressing up is fun. but to be honest, we aren't here to talk about we. we're here because of michael."

"what about him?"

constance peeled back the mask and settled it on the desk, leaning forward on her forearms. "he's pretentious, he never does his work. and he isn't as good as he thinks he is. he's failing my class."

the parents sat in silence, staring from one another to her. "can he still pass?"

"i'm willing to stay after and show up before school to help him. if he agrees to the extra lessons, i'll pass him. he has to improve or he isn't going to go anywhere." she groaned, leaning back away from the pair.

"are you sure it isn't something you're doing?"

"of course, i'm sure. your son is a brat, end of story. if anyone did anything it was you."

the pair abruptly climbed to their feet, mumbling their disdain for the young teacher as they stormed from the room, grabbing michael by the collar in passing. it was time for her to start taking bets on how bad the complaint they were going to file would be.

[edit]

constance had refused to look at herself in the mirror while the hair dresser had started cutting her hair. with her chemotherapy treatment intensifying, she knew better than to let her hair fall out on its own. so there she sat, watching a tangle of brown hair flood the ground. "ohmygod." she tried desperately not to cry, but tears managed to well up in her eyes without her permission.

"i told myself i wasn't going to cry," her form of apology to the hairdresser who was trying to work around the shake of her shoulders from silent sobs.

"honey, don't cha worry 'bout it." deep southern twang coming out honey sweet. the snip, snip, snip of scissors were drowned out by the buzz of a razor as it trimmed the last bit of her hair. only a thin layer of what once was remained, leaving her head dark and not completely barren of hair. constance finally looked up, seeing herself for the first time in years without a mess of brown hair. "girl, you look so damn good. shit, i might just have to switch teams just so i can git ta know ya." the hairdresser, elise, was trying her best to keep the fragile woman before her from breaking into hysterics.

fingers fumbled with the green silk scarf, tying it around her head and bunching it at the bottom. "thanks elise." she reluctantly climbed to her feet, arms wrapping around the woman's neck for a hug. "how much do i owe you?"

"nothin' darlin', don't cha worry 'bout it, just work on getting better."

that alone brought more tears to her eyes as she gave one final squeeze before peeling herself away from him and moving out the door.

<font color="#000000" size="1">[ November 01, 2006 07:42 PM: Message edited by: vodka slurs ]</font>