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Your beautiful mouth was moving like a caterpillar. I reached out and tried to catch it.

Lucy Christopher

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Lucy Christopher
Age: 54
Author
Writer
WAL
Reached
Catch
Mouth
Mouths
Tried
Moving
Beautiful
Caterpillar
Like
Caterpillars

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It sounded weird to hear you talk so much normally you only said a few words at a time. I'd never imagined that you'd have a story, too. Until that moment, you were just the kidnapper. You didn't have reasons for anything. You were stupid and evil and mentally ill. That was all. When you started talking, you started changing.
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And it's hard to hate someone once you understand them.
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It was so big, that view. I’ll never remember it properly. How can anyone remember something that big? I don’t think people’s brains are designed for memories like that. They’re designed for things like phone numbers, or the color of someone’s hair. Not hugeness.
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I remember that feeling of skin. It's strange to remember touch more than thought. But my fingers still tingle with it.
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Had you been lying all along? Mum gently stroked my hair. I whispered into her shoulder. “I can’t go back. Not yet. I can’t leave.” And she held my head tight to her chest and wrapped her arms around me. “You don’t have to,” she said, rocking me. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, not anymore.” And I cried.
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I mean, that star over there is blinking at me madly now, but for how long? An hour or two, or for the next million years? And how long will we sit here like this? Just another moment, or the rest of our lives? You know which one I'd prefer.
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But what else can I do, other than to plead with you like this? Other than to write down my story, our story, to show you that what you've done . . . to make you realize that what you did wasn't fair, wasn't right.
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I didn’t look back, but I knew you were still watching. It probably sounds weird, but I could just feel it. The hairs on my neck bristled when you blinked.
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You smiled then, and your whole face changed with it. It kind of lit up, like there were sunbeams coming from inside you.
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I remember the lights turning into blurs of blazing fire. I remember the air-conditioning chilling my arms. The smell of coffee smudging into the smell of eucalyptus.
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How would she find her herd? How would she find you?
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You won't be able to hurt me, or touch me.
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You're right, he's a killer, you said. A rooster with some serious issues.
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Everyone wanted answers I wasn't ready to give.
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