Every word that passed from between her beautiful lips was a shock to my very soul, like the ending of a beautiful book.
"No, that’s not good enough. I need you with me. I need you to be real. I don’t know why, I just need—"
I was silenced, my whole body brought to a complete stop by the sensation of the girl leaning over and pressing her lips against my own. I moved my hand away from my eyes, in complete and utter disbelief. This was the first time I had ever been able to touch her, and that first touch was expressed through my first kiss. Her face, so close to mine, I could see every single detail of her visage and saturate myself with her rosy aroma. The sensation of her lips against mine, it went beyond just canceling out my pain, it made me feel… good. I felt happy, euphoric, like I had just been working for three days straight and was settling into a hot tub. Her lips were so soft and warm, but also carrying a gentle flavor. It was like I was kissing a wisp of steam from a cup of tea.
The girl eventually broke the connection and we stared into each other’s eyes. She then sat up and moved on top of me, her hands pushing down on my shoulders and her long crimson hair hanging down around our faces like a curtain, seceding the space between us from the outside world and making it all our own. Staring at her full breasts and feeling the smooth lips of her pussy rub up against the shaft of my hardening penis (with only the fabric of my boxers separating them) was driving me wild with hormonal lust.
In all honesty, I hadn’t been this aroused in months, I could literally feel the blood pumping furiously through my body and firing up the long-dormant parts of my brain that I had ignored for so long. But beyond her beauty, beyond her naked body resting on mine and making me hornier than ever in my life, the greatest feeling was her weight on me. It was real. I could feel her pushing down on my shoulders, sitting on my lap. I could even hear the springs of my mattress creak beneath us. This weight was real, it had to be, and that meant she was real.
"You need me to be real because you need to believe that there is some aspect of this world that can make you happy, that there is at least one person who can take away your pain. But if I am just a creation of your own mind, then you should be overjoyed. It means that you hold the key to your own happiness, and wherever you live, no matter how you live, you can make it paradise."
The words were whispered and her face was lit with tender care and love. The girl then leaned down and settled herself on top of me like a cat, her chest pressed against mine and her face buried in the side of my neck. Her body, it was so warm and soft, I was completely at a loss for words on how to describe it. All I could do was wrap my arms around her womanly frame, hold her tight, and cry tears of joy. I didn’t care, real or not, she was here with me, and that was all that mattered. Whether she was some sort of angel from heaven or just a figment of my imagination, as long as she was with me, I’d be happy.
"Marcus, come on, it’s time to wake up. You’ve been in bed for too long," my mom said, knocking on the door.
At the sound of the doorknob shaking, I turned with fear in my eyes. "No, don’t. Please, not yet."
The handle was fully turned, and just as the door began to move, the girl disappeared, leaving me alone once again. My mom just stood in the doorway, looking at me and wondering why I was crying.
Even if my dreams had now reached new levels of depth and I could interact with the girl more than I had ever hoped, that didn’t help my daily routine. In fact, it made it worse. Spending every second longing to go back home and go to bed so that I could wake up beside that girl, my life became even more miserable. Everything that made my day difficult became horrible, and everything that had never bothered me before was now a curse, as it required time and stood in my way. Add that to my continuous pain and my multiple daily seizures, and each day went from being an endless hell to a taunting deprivation of the one light in my hellish life.
Such lively contact like that special night before was rare and not often repeated. The girl still appeared every morning for a few minutes, but I could rarely do anything more than touch her gently with my hand. Going further would cause her to disappear. She never spoke much, only when I said something to her or asked her questions, and even then, her answers were simple and often repeated. Regardless, just waking up next to her each morning was enough to get me through the day, but barely.
While my visions of the girl seemed to mature, every night, I dreamt about that star, the star being devoured by the black hole in its core, the star sitting in a nebula looking like the eye of God. I could feel myself drawing closer and closer to the black hole in the center, being pulled in towards my death. The closer I got, the larger the celestial mass became, surpassing my human comprehension. Yet strangely, after that night, while my increasing proximity continue to expand my view of the star around it, the black hole was actually shrinking like a contracting pupil. It was as if the black hole was sizing itself to correspond with my distance from it.
December was exceptionally rough, quite simply because I had decided to try chemo and radiation treatment for my cancer. Well, to be honest, my parents basically coerced me into doing it and making me feel guilty if I refused. They wanted me to live no matter what, so the only way to throw off their suspicions that I was eagerly awaiting death was to feint hopelessness and fear towards the treatment. I eventually agreed to treatment under one condition: if I didn’t see any results before New Year’s or I started losing my hair, I was going to quit. I didn’t have high expectations, but I would do it to get my parents off my back.
On my first day of chemotherapy, I found myself in a room with other cancer patients, all sitting in chairs lining the walls. Each one was hooked up to an IV, and their stages of treatment were all visible on their emaciating bodies. Considering the time it took for each session, everyone had methods of keeping boredom at bay. There were laptops, handheld game consoles, books, and one of the kids was even playing with a Rubik’s Cube. I sat by the window, letting the poison run through my veins. I was also receiving a heavy dose of morphine, helping to numb some of my pain. Hopefully I wouldn’t have a seizure in the hospital. The last thing I needed was some intern right out of med school sticking a tube down my throat.
Drowsy from the drugs running through me, I let my mind wander. My thoughts drifted back to the girl and what she had told me. She said that if she wasn’t real, if she was just a figment of my imagination, then I could call on her whenever I needed. Maybe it was something I should try. I closed my eyes, forcing aside all distractions and sensations. I focused my mind on the girl, but was unsure of what would actually bring her forth. If I just thought about her, would she appear in this room with me? Should I try and fall asleep and dream about her?
Slowly the sounds of the other patients faded, the world falling silent around me. But I was not alone. I felt someone gently grasp my hand and opened my eyes, staring into the beautiful blues of the girl. She was kneeling at my feet, naked as always. Behind her, the chemotherapy room had blurred into an unrecognizable collage, as if I was falling out of sync with reality.
"Marcus, my dear sweet Marcus…" she whispered, resting her head on my lap.
I slowly reached out and placed my hand on the top of her head, stroking her hair. "You’re really here," I gasped in amazement.
"Of course I’m here; I’m always with you. Marcus, I’m so proud of you, for everything you’ve endured. Your patience will be rewarded, I promise you. Just hold on and I will bring you happiness."
"What am I supposed to wait for?"
"The day when our souls can finally achieve convergence."
I then jerked in my chair, having been awoken by the nurse. I had slept through the treatment.
Christmas and New Year’s came and went, and I was happy to see them go. I hated the holidays; all of the cheer and happiness made my organs fail. With the start of the New Year, I had the doctors check my condition and see if any progress had been made on my tumors. After a month of radiation and chemo, I had figured at least a slight change would be found. No. There was nothing. They had resisted the treatment and I was stuck where I was.
Each day, my pain was getting worse, and I found myself taking more and more pills than I was supposed to, both painkillers and anti-convulsion meds in an attempt to curb my seizures. Originally, I would take two painkillers every four hours and one anti-convulsion med every six, but now I was downing them like tic tacs. My body was weakening, but in a way, that was a good thing. I was close, so close. Soon I could rest in peace.
"Twenty bucks for a dose, and I’ll give you an extra ten for a clean needle and to help me set up. My hands are too shaky for something like this," I said, standing in an alley in town.
The sky above was gray with a gentle snowfall pouring down on the dealer and I. Luckily, the café to our right kept us out of the wind. The man before me looked to be in his late twenties, unshaven with deep distrust in his eyes. I was a new customer to him, and normally he would have turned me away on instinct, but luckily I looked sick enough to pass for a hardened user.
"Let me see your hands."
I held them up, letting him see them tremble. With every nerve ending in my fingers firing, my hands were shaking so badly that it looked like I had MS.
"Alright, fine. You’re in luck, kid. I just got some brand new syringes yesterday and I’ve got one left."
He looked around to make sure we wouldn’t be seen and then took out his merchandise. Filling up a spoon with heroin, he clenched the handle with his teeth and used his hands to hold a lighter and protect the flame from the wind. Slowly the powder melted into its liquid form, and before it could cool, he unwrapped an unused syringe and filled it with the drug, finishing by handing it to me in exchange for the cash.
"Tch, luck. If luck were on my side today, this needle would end up killing me."
With the dealer leaving, I sat down on the cold wet ground, pulling up my sleeve and looking for a vein. It certainly wasn’t hard; my skin was as thin as paper and my arteries were all swollen from malnutrition and the strain of my disease. I pushed the needle into my arm, not even feeling it amongst the billions of other painful pricks tormenting my body. I hesitated with my thumb on the plunger, wondering if this was really the route to take. My life was already cut short and the chances of there being a cure for my pain were slim, but did I really want to further burden myself with even a single injection of this toxin and risk developing an addiction? After all, the pot had been a dismal failure. What chance did heroin have of helping me? I concluded my hesitation with a laugh, deciding I didn’t have much to lose.
I pushed down onto the plunger, filling my bloodstream with the poison. Casting the empty syringe aside, I leaned my head back and stared up into the snowfall, waiting for the drug to take affect. Could I possibly be any more pathetic? Sitting in a back alley with heroin running through my veins, trying desperately to free myself for just a few moments from my disease… It was beyond pitiful; it was shameful. But soon, the drug began to take effect, numbing my senses and bringing down my pain to a dull throbbing while leaving my mind spinning. Waiting for this dark miracle to truly free me from my agony, I stared back up into the gray sky and let my mind wander.
Is there a god? I ask myself that question often, but of course, so does everybody. I don’t know if I am a believer, an atheist, or just an agnostic. I see no reason in the world, no meaning, no pattern behind the chaos other than the patterns humans try to create. Is there a purpose in any existence? Even mine? Was I created with this body simply to suffer? Was I created and then abandoned, never cared about by whatever deity might have cursed me with life? Was all of mankind created to suffer or was it created and then abandoned? There is so much pain in the world, so much agony beyond my own. What kind of twisted god would put us on this earth to live as the abominations that we are, caught in evolutionary limbo? Would our creator not also be our parent? Shouldn’t they try and protect us from harm? Are we merely entertainment? A TV show for more advance life forms? Or are we little more than a bacteria colony growing on a discarded test tube, created by accident and never acknowledged?
What use is there of a god in this human world? Either he doesn’t exist, doesn’t care, or is he a sick freak that loves to create life solely to toy with it. People waste their lives praying and begging to some bastard in the sky to change their lives, all the while trampling under everyone beneath them and casting judgment upon those who walk different paths. But for judging them, am I no better? Do I have any right to speak badly of people when I too am cursed with this pathetic human body? How can I condemn others for being judgmental when it means being judgmental of them?
I guess that’s one of the main problems of this world: no one can create change without doing exactly what their opponent is doing. Whether it is trying to stop a genocide or get a bill passed through congress, every stand is just a repeat of its failed predecessor. Everyone thinks they know what’s best, they think they have the key to saving the world or that they have seen the truth that no one else has so much as caught a glimpse of. All the same mistakes are just made over and over again, all the same promises spoken and never fulfilled, all the faults of others pointed out by those who are nothing more than hypocrites. If this life really is the work of a god, then he is a sadistic god, a life where the tallest societal structure is nothing more than a pile of rubble, a mountain of failures all stacked up on top of each other with no one capable of escaping their mantle.
I don’t know if there is a god, I’m not sure whether or not I want there to be a god. If there isn’t a god, then all this is meaningless and there is nothing for us in this world but a quick life, an unavoidable death, and an eternity in which no one remembers us. If there is a god, then he is either incompetent or evil, in which case, I want nothing to do with him other then a chance to pay him back for creating me. What am I? A believer? An atheist? An agnostic? What is the name for someone whose belief in God is nothing more than the desire to kill him?
"Marcus, I’m cold."
I looked over, seeing the girl sitting next to me, her healthy skin contrasting against the brick wall and the snow-covered pavement. She looked at me with somber eyes, pained by the condition I was in and how desperate I was.
"Do you even feel things like the cold?" I asked, more bitterly than I meant.
"I feel them because you feel them. You are my link to this world, just like I am yours. We are bound."
I got to my feet, struggling to maintain my balance. "I’m sorry you’re bound to someone as pathetic as me."
"You are not pathetic. You are desperate, you are in pain, and you are starved of love."
"Who could ever love someone as broken as me?"
"I do. Marcus, of all the people in the world, I am the one that you have nothing to hide from."
She stood up and leaned against me, her arms wrapped tightly around my neck. I could actually feel her, feel her warmth.
"You’ll never have to put yourself down, never say you don’t deserve me, never have to feel shame or embarrassment. Every single aspect of your life, of your personality, of your soul, I love with all my heart. Marcus, I accept you. I accept you for everything you are. Now please, let’s go home. I don’t want you to catch a cold."
It was morning, and I was getting ready for school with my family in the kitchen. In my hand was a mound of pills, one that I stared at loathingly. Pain killers, anti-convulsion meds, blood thickeners to keep my internal bleeding from going out of control, antidepressants, and countless vitamin supplements to help me get some nourishment. With constant pain wracking my body, I rarely noticed my appetite, and any food that I did eat was often thrown up during my seizures, so pills were the only way to make sure I got the nutrients I needed. I was always on the husky side, but after so many weeks of this pain, I had burned through all of my fat reserves and was little more than skin and bones. Hoping that I wouldn’t just puke them up later, I poured the pills into my mouth and forced them into my gut with a glass of water. Time to start a new day.
"We’re so close now."
My eyes bolted open and I quickly realized that I couldn’t move. The girl, the girl who’s name I did not know, her whisper had woken me up. Never before had this happened, and even more, she was sitting on my lap again, almost pinning me down. The sun had not yet risen. It was barely after 2:00 am.
"What?" I asked, certain I was still dreaming.
With a warm smile, she leaned down and gently kissed me. "We are so close now. We can talk, we can touch… we can kiss. I can feel you and you can feel me, the time has almost come. Just wait a little longer."
"What has almost come?"
"Happiness," she purred lovingly while sitting back up.
I sat up with her, wrapping my arms around her and resting my forehead against her chest. The soft warmth of her bountiful breasts against my face was a sexual nirvana, coercing my dick into a pulsing erection.
"Why can’t I hear your name?"
The red-haired beauty giggled and gently pushed me back down, hovering over me on all fours. "Because you have not yet named me."
"What do you mean?"
"You must name me, so that I may exist solely for you, so that I may bring you happiness and ease your suffering. Then when you regain the will to live, you will exist solely for me, and this world will become paradise for all the days of our lives."
"But don’t you exist already?"
"Why don’t you touch me and decide for yourself?" she suggested coyly.
I smiled, feeling my horniness and excitement brush away my tiredness. Raising my right hand, I reached up and cupped one of her breasts, sending an uncontrollable shiver through my body and causing some pre-cum to dampen my boxers
"I didn’t know you were such a pervert. How naughty," she murmured, closing her eyes and humming to herself blissfully with a small smile.
I was smiling as well, massaging the orb of flesh with both care and curiosity, having never felt a girl’s boobs before. I began massaging the other one with my left hand, rubbing the nipple with my thumb and causing the girl’s hums to increase in volume. Jiggling them, squeezing them, and rubbing them together, I thoroughly explored every secret her womanhood held and familiarized myself with every single centimeter of her soft skin.
"It feels so good to have you touch me," she panted as I began toying with her nipples, gently squeezing them between my index and middle fingers and rubbing them with my thumbs.
"You certainly feel real," I said, happier than I had been in years.
"Well to be sure, how about a taste?" she offered, lowering herself down and kissing me.
Following the lead of her lips, her tongue slipped into my mouth with unbelievable length. I almost felt like I was going to choke on it. Her mouth and tongue, they were so delicious, and the wetter the kiss became, the more of her flavor I was able to sample. She tasted like ripe mangos and tea and the longer I tasted her, the more energized I felt.
After several minutes of kissing, the girl pulled her lips from mine and smiled. "My body is so hot right now, can you cool me off?"
I smiled and raised my head, kissing her first on the cheek, then down the side of her neck, and to her collarbone. As I slowly moved down, the girl slipped her hands into my boxers and grasped my cock, nearly making me cum right then and there simply from the sensation of having someone else touch it.
"Just as I thought, it’s sized just for me," she hummed, lovingly stroking it while my lips finally came to her breasts.
Shaking like a drug addict, I was barely able to contain my sexual hunger. All these years, my hatred and depression had made my instinctive drive little more than a dull annoyance, but now, it was like it was all rushing out at once. I ran my tongue across her breasts, unable to believe how good they felt and tasted, and just that I was making such intimate contact with this strange entity.
"Be as rough or as gentle as you want, I belong to you after all," she said tenderly.
At her words, my emotions suddenly flared up and quelled my instinctive desire. This girl, whether she was real or a hallucination, I did not care. I loved her, she was precious to me, and I could not hurt her even if she asked me to. I was slow, gentle, working my lips around each nipple and stopping periodically to massage her breasts with my tongue. While I worked, she rubbed her smooth slit against the shaft of my cock. It was so soft, already soaking wet from her arousal and making me dizzy with the sweet aroma.
"Such a simple touch, yet it feels so good. To be so close to you, I feel like I’m going to faint in happiness," she cooed.
As her movements became more aggressive and the gentle rubbing became passionate grinding, I reached out and held onto her shapely ass with my hands. So soft and yet so firm, both full and taut, she had the ass of a Brazilian model. All this stimulation, it was too much, I could feel all the muscles in my lower body tensing up from my approaching orgasm.
"I feel it, Marcus. I’m about to cum."
"Me too," I murmured, wishing I could be inside her instead of just grinding against the entrance.
Gyrating her hips, the girl’s movements increased until it actually felt like I had penetrated her. We finally came at the same time, me launching about a shot glass’ worth of semen onto my stomach and fresh sheen of wetness coating the girl’s womanhood. At the feeling of ecstasy, I gave a deep grunt and the girl gave a shrill and rather adorable whine before she collapsed on top me.
"We’re so close, we can already bring each other happiness."
"Any chance we could take it a step further?" I asked, placing my hands on the sides of her face and brushing aside her long crimson hair.
"No. Close as we are, we cannot yet bond ourselves in that way. Only when we both live will we be able to create life for ourselves. Soon, we will be able to give each other and ourselves unending euphoria. Wait for me."
"But I don’t know what I’m waiting for… And I don’t know if I can wait much longer. Every day, my ability to endure this pain lessens. I’m losing my sense of touch, my sight and hearing are failing, and my body is wasting away because I cannot hold food down. I just want to die. I just want it all to stop. If I end it all, then I can spend eternity with you."
The girl lowered her head and kissed me, brushing aside my fear. "We will spend all of eternity together, but wouldn’t that eternity mean even more if it also meant a lifetime? Just wait, and I will turn this realm into heaven for you. Here, let me give you something, something to hold you over until our day comes."
Smiling, she moved down to my deflating manhood. Lowering her head, she began licking up the semen I had ejaculated just a minute ago, humming in joy like it was chocolate syrup. Watching her tongue lap up my seed, I felt my cock re-harden, which she lovingly stroked with her hand.
After licking up every drop, she held her head just above my manhood, stroking it with her hand and working out any softness. "Now, let me bring you happiness."
She then took the whole thing into her mouth, swallowing it with ease and bringing her lips all the way down to the base. At both the sight and feeling of her sucking me off, I immediately had my second orgasm and shot a dose of semen down her throat. The girl quickly pulled her head back and coughed, but before I could apologize, she smiled.
"Don’t worry, it’s fine. Just try and hold back a little, let me enjoy this too. Besides, it’s delicious," she said coyly.
Holding back? Hell, that was easy, I doubt I had any sperm left to release, but with her hand stroking my cock and that hungry expression on her face, I couldn’t lose my erection if I wanted to.
Bringing her head back down, the girl resumed blowing me, but this time taking it slow. She started simply by running her tongue around the head, licking away any sperm that remained from my first or second orgasm. She then moved to the shaft, delivering long wide sweeps, almost tracing each vein and sending shivers up my spine. After physically memorizing every detail of my cock, the girl again wrapped her mouth around it completely, bringing her head down so the tip was crammed against the back of her throat. Moving each time with an upward inflection, she began bobbing her head with a steady rhythm, massaging my dick with her tongue and cheeks while her saliva dripped down into my lap.
As she worked, I watched with a smile and gently stroked her hair and brushed my fingers against her cheeks, trying to communicate my gratitude without interrupting her. Through her efforts, I could feel my body working up the strength for one last climax. It would probably be a dry fire, but it would be no less powerful. Sucking on my dick like it was the straw in a particularly thick milkshake, the girl broke through the final threshold I needed and I finally came, spraying every last drop of semen I had into her mouth and on her face when she finally released it.
I laid my head back, completely drained of both energy and cum. After swallowing all of my seed and cleaning it off her face, the girl sat on my lap and ran her fingers through my hair. "Name me, so that I may exist solely for you, so that I may bring you happiness and ease your suffering. Then when you regain the will to live, you will exist solely for me, and this world will become paradise for all the days of our lives."
She kissed me on the forehead, the feel of her lips being the last sensation as I fell back to sleep.
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