Word of the Day: Enmity

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Enmity (n.)- a feeling or condition of hostility; hatred; animosity

The hate in Lindsey’s eyes corrugated my eyebrows so hard that it felt as if the muscles may have been a sheet of concrete. The enmity between us has been building for sometime now and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t ready to extinguish it. She looks super hard at me. As if she is ready to use her power again. The way I see it, she is just another stupid, blonde bitch in my way. I tried loving her. She didn’t like that. She didn’t like me showing up at her car wash to tell her there are better things in life than washing cars in plunging, neckline shirts with no bra and flirting with no life guys for a living. Looking at her now I can tell there are devilish thoughts going on in that head of hers. Those green eyes hits like no other and before I know it she lunges at me at sonic speed.

I see her leading with her right. Predictable. I shift to shadow form in the nick of time. As Lindsey goes through, her presence causes my shadow to follow her because of the speed she is traveling. I use the momentum to gain an advantage behind her and materialize back with her in a chokehold.

“Get the fuck off of me,” Lindsey says.

“Better not do that shit again. You hear me?!” I holler in her ear. I can practically feel the enmity coursing in her body, vibrating against me, making me want to do nothing more than to break her fucking neck. Next thing I know she is driving her elbow into my stomach. I hunch over and she escapes my grip.

Now I’m angry. I want her dead.

“Learned that working at the your lame ass nightclub,” Lindsey says. I look up the L.A. street and notice there is a crowd of people gathering to watch us.

“We are supposed to be keeping our powers a secret,” I say.

“Fuck that,” Lindsey says. I startle. “I’m so tired of you thinking you’re the only one in the world for me. You’re obsessed with me.”

I flush.

There is some truth behind what she says. Sharing her is never on my to-do-list. And I find it leads to fights like these. However, this time is different. This time, her eyes are ready to kill.

“I’m not obsessed,” I say. “I…”

“I don’t care anymore,” Lindsey explodes. “I’m gonna kill you.” She lunges at me again. This time, I waste no time. I manifest a wakizashi using the shadows. When Lindsey tries to punch me, I dodge the blow and make a horizontal slash across her abdomen as she hurtles by with her super speed. I feel the steel cut easy. I look back and Lindsey is already on her knees with her hands over her lethal wound. She collapses the rest of the way to the ground and breathes her last breath.

“Rest in peace,” I say. A tear falls down my cheek. I look at the crowd that formed around us. They are staring in horror. I must go before someone attempts something heroic.

So without another word, I just walk away.

 

 

 

Word of the Day: Esoteric

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Esoteric (adj): understood by or meant for only the select few who have special knowledge or interest; secret; confidential; private

When I looked into her eyes, deep, past the tear hanging from each, I felt the anger ebb slowly away, sinking, sinking, an anchor latched to its ankle, pulling it back down to dormancy. That’s when I knew she was something more than just another beautiful face. She mattered.

So esoteric¬†was the rage I felt that the world in itself could have easily been swallowed whole by an impermeable wall of darkness that even a black hole couldn’t manage. Breath, heart, lungs, stomach, genitalia. All responding, all trusting. And those eyes, somewhere lost in a color between green and blue, and her hair black as a blank television screen, falling down, down past her shoulders. Even past the middle of her back.

No one had been able to conquer my rage…until now. That was her purpose. And as selfish as this sounds, another part of me, the one who had toiled for years and years to obtain the success I so richly deserve, had wanted to hold on to that anger for as long as I could. But now I know, that kind of passion was just slowly killing me. Holding me in place for years and years, not knowing the damage it was doing, not knowing the irony that came with its protection. I wasn’t safe holding onto such rage, even though it is what gave me so much power. What I needed now was control over that power. So I decided to make a new decision.

Hate.

“I’m here.” Such a soft voice. Amazing what two words could do to all of the pain, all of the agony, all of the heartache I’ve endured. Two words.

I’m here.

And to think my little bitch of a sister is the reason for so much of my heartache, prodding into my affairs without the right to even do so. Fighting for my love when she knows me and her will never be a match. The dumb bitch. But at least I can feel my chest again without it hurting so much.

The woman standing before my very eyes has brought something into my life I couldn’t see before.

Reason.

Reason to not want to destroy any and everything in my path. Reason to give this world another chance, even though it has had nothing but cruel intentions against me. Reason to love myself truly, not by giving myself all of my attention, but by loving another.

Love. Hate.

The two things in my life now that make the world go round.

“I’m sorry for what I put you through,” I say, chest heaving, wanting to push against hers while unsure as to whether I deserved the right to do so. She places a hand over my heart and feel the thing beating away passionately. Furiously.

“There is no need baby. I have you.”

And that’s when life changed.