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I chased money, pretended to be someone else to get it. It got easier the longer I did it... but that's the trap, see? When the deadness gets easier, you know you're sinking deeper, becoming dead yourself.

Lucy Christopher

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Lucy Christopher
Age: 54
Author
Writer
WAL
Someone
Deeper
Gets
Becoming
Deadness
Easier
Chased
Longer
Pretended
Dead
Sinking
Money
Trap
Else
Traps

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The land wants you here. I want you here, you called. Don't you care about that at all?
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I want you to see that the person I glimpsed running beside the camel, running to save my life, is the person you can choose to be.
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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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The people we care for aren't always the one we should
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The deep blue of your eyes had secrets. I wanted them.
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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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I thought you wanted to catch a camel, you tried again. No. I want to. Well, you go then. You laughed. I want your beautiful face where I can see it
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When the darkness gets easier, you know you're sinking deeper, becoming dead yourself.
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This be OK?' I asked, innocently. 'You want me to have no skin left?' You rolled your eyes. Actually, don't answer that one.
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Those blue, blue eyes, icy blue, looking back at me as if I could warm them up. They’re pretty powerful, you know, those eyes, pretty beautiful, too.
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I could hear you, talking to the daffodils and tulips, whispering to the fairies that lived inside their petals. Each separate flower had a different family inside it.
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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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I didn’t want the person standing there, beside the bed, to have the same face I’d found so attractive at the airport. But you were there all right: the blue eyes, blondish hair, and tiny scar. Only you didn’t look beautiful this time. Just evil.
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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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You're right, he's a killer, you said. A rooster with some serious issues.
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If there'd been an astronaut on the moon right then, I'm sure I could have seen him. Perhaps he could have looked down and seen me too... the only one who could.
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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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Everyone wanted answers I wasn't ready to give.
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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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