Without title

I'm very sorry that my english is so bad!

Without Title

Oh Emily!

You do not think that anyone needs you. But you are wrong. You are so pretty… So beautiful … I need you! You are so tiny, frail and weak. Your delicate female figure makes it chill down my spine every time I see it faintly in the dark. The most wonderful about you is that you do not know how wonderful you are. Your hands are young and free of wrinkles. Your fingers are so long and thin. They would suit the steering wheel of a Mercedes perfectly. Your body would suit expensive dresses. I can imagine it. See how the silk clung round your bosom and your hips. You are not wearing any brassiere, and the inside of my body is getting hotter and hotter. The diamond necklace is heavy against your cleavage, and the rubies in your ears are shining in competition with your lips. But this is just an illusion of my mind. The reality is different. You have no money. You live in a shifty neighborhood and work at coffee bar just around the corner. I am one of your customers. I come to you every day with my dollar and drink your coffee without you noticing me. When I see you walking in my direction I looses my breath. You are my Venus. I want to paint your lips in a bright, red color, just like Sandro Botticelli did it centuries ago. You are the ideal, the ideal of women through all time. Your open face invites me to smile. I want to ask you out. I want to follow you home, and you are going to open the door for me. I want to kiss you. Afterwards I want to touch you, and I do not want to ask of permission before I do it. When we are standing close together, I want to lay your head down on the flowered blanket on your coach. I am talking about the blanket I can see through the window in your apartment, from the room I have rented in the building opposite yours, just so that I can be with you all the time. But you are not with me. You do not know my name, and you do not know who I am. But I have seen you with your long, golden curls. Wet from the bath you sometimes walk naked through your living room. Oh, yes… The candle is getting shorter and shorter. I cannot wait anymore. I know more about you than you do. You are my queen, the queen of all women, and the queen of queens. Your ignorance makes me excited, and in a strange way I want to let you know all about me. In a strange way I want you to know who I am. I want to see your heart, warm and good as it is, melt as you fall into my arms. I want to kiss you with such an amount of passion that you cannot resist. Your courageous way of thinking is the reason that you are still here. It is the reason that you are not lost in our big, cold, cold world yet. There is so much that you need to realize.  You are alone. No one will ever help you. May your screams die in the dark night together with my passion. I am looking at my watch and feeling very impatient at the same time. Soon you will be free. You will leave the coffee bar and your watch will be over. This night I will declare my endless love. I have planned it all. Everything that you need to do is to say yes. Everything that you need to do is to tell me that you love me too. Everything that you need to do is to stay with me and not run away. You have to feel me. You need to feel me in all kind of ways. Your childlike body with all its womanly curves and shadows will undergo all my brutish and bestial urges. I will make you feel the same madness about me that I have felled about you. I will make you drink my poison the same way I drank yours. I want you! About this there should not be any doubts.      

I take my coat and stroll out in the night. Consciously I pass the coffee bar so that I can follow you from behind as soon as you come out. As soon as you hear my steps, I will pull down the hat brim, so that you cannot see my face. My face is going to be the last thing you see of the black shadow behind you that is me. That is the way I want it. You have to close your eyes when your face is getting near mine, and not open them again before our long awaited kiss. Then you are going to see me, really see me for the first time. You attract me like a corpse attracts swarms of flies. In both cases there is a desire. In both cases none of us has a chance. But you are so young and beautiful. You have absolutely no reason to be scared about attracting flies. There is no reason for you to be scared about dying. 

Finally you are leaving the coffee bar. You do not lock the door. It is not your turn to close the shop for today. The clock is only eleven p.m. The night is young. Anyway there is close to no people on the street. There is only you and me. You are always dressed very poorly. You have always done that. These clothes are not worthy enough for your beautiful body. There is too much make-up in your otherwise so flawless face. It makes you look cheap. Someone would rather say hot. I would say lonely, and call it an attempt to attract some attention. It is obvious that you want a man. A kind man, who wants to support you and take care of you. A man you would not be afraid of when you find out that he is following you. But you are naive. No man will ever be able see through the mask you have painted with blue eye shadow and crimson lipstick. I do not know if you still are filled with hope. I some kind of way you have to be. If you did not feel any hope, why would you else keep putting this mask on night after night after night?  

´´Hey!`` My voice is loud and clear. ´´Emily!`` She stops and is standing still for a moment. Oh, yes… My thoughts are driving me crazy. ´´Let me see you!``, I shout out against her. She turns around. Her face seems scared. It is raining heavily, and the golden curls are sticking to her face. I want to say something, but the words will not touch my lips. She is so beautiful as she is standing there, only a few meters away. So unbelievable and beautiful… ´´You have to come with me.`` My voice is shaking. It makes me sound desperate. It is not my fault. I am only a human; a man in front of a wonderful woman. Suddenly she tries to run, but her heels are so tall that it is nearly impossible. Therefore I catch up with her very quickly. With a hand on her shoulder I try to turn her around against me for the second time. The touch makes my skin under the thin leather clove quiver, and I moan slowly. In the same moment she loses her balance and gasps. Her voice is making a warm feeling in me, and it spreads very fast in my strong, robust body. It is like an illness, like cancer. If she wanted to run away again, I knew what to do. I would withhold her. I knew that her tiny, frail body never would have a chance. Not against me. Not against it. Not against the desire.

I bent down over her tiny figure on the sidewalk. She is trying to yell something, but I could not understand it. In the same moment someone in an apartment in building next to us, closed the window. ´´I will not hurt you,`` I whispered while I was trying to give her my hand. ´´Leave me alone!``, she answered. Her voice was shaking, just like mine was it earlier. ´´Let me go, please, I ask you, leave me alone!`` I listened to her words, but I did not want to hear them. Maybe she had sensed something, something that I had not noticed yet, or maybe she just felled the tension just as much as I did. It was everywhere, over our heads and in the air. We were literally breathing it. ´´I love you!``, I whispered. She tried to crawl. I wanted her to realize that it was hopeless, that she did not have a choice. ´´Stay with me!``, I shouted. I grabbed her violently in the back of her neck. While she began to cry, I forced her to look at me. ´´You are so beautiful,`` I said. ´´But you have too much makeup on. Let me remove some of it for you``… From the deep of my pocket I pulled up a handkerchief. Suddenly she bit me. Through the clove I could not feel any pain. One second I just stared surprised at her. The next one I hit her hard in the face. My regret lasted for no more than a minute.  ´´Do you not recognize me?``, I asked her, but I did not see any recognition in her face. ´´Let me go!``, she said again and again. ´´Let me go!`` ´´Oh, Emily``, I whispered and stroked her carefully on her forehead. She trembled. The rain had smeared her makeup. I led my face very close to hers. Then I tried to kiss her. Her lips felled cold against mine, and the kiss did not last for more than a second. ´´You do not have to fight against me``, I tried to tell her. Suddenly she spat me in the face. I was not prepared for such a reaction, and in one moment I got filled with rage. With an indescribable anger I put both my hands around her neck. Before I knew what I was doing, I was in the middle of strangling her. Minutes passed by and first then the rage disappeared, just as fast as it had possessed me in the first place. I had been so angry that I had not even noticed when she stopped fighting back, or when she stopped moving. Just as I let her go, she fell invariable to the ground. Her eyes were still open, but her before so beautiful chest did not move. Suddenly all magic seemed to be gone. Like a sparkle of hope that never reached its goal and became a flame. Everything seemed to be gone. All youth, all beauty. Everything that was left was nothing else but a corpse. Suddenly all my work seemed wasted. Just like all the other times. Suddenly I felled very disgusted about the dead body on the ground. I looked quickly from side to side. We were still alone. Then I took the tiny corpse in my arms. It was very light. A product of the world, a young girl, lost in our cold, cold world; now dead. I left her in the trunk of my car. Have I told you that it is a Mercedes? ´´How sad``, I suddenly came to think. In my mind I saw the young hands reaching me my scalding hot coffee. ´´They would have suited the steering wheel perfectly.``

Oh Emily. Oh Veronica. Oh Alicia. Oh Monique. Oh Sophie. You do not think that anyone needs you. You are wrong. I need you. This is your story. This was your story. A tragedy? Or maybe the best thing that could have happened to you? I do not know. I just know that the life that would have been waiting for you, would not have been any better than the tragic life you already lived. Right now the water in the harbor are painting your lips in the same deep blue color as the water here in the early morning. So far away from the shiny blue color of your eye shadow. Your watery grave, have soaked your short dress. Your coat is still in my trunk. I saw that they were searching for you in the newspaper. It was just a little box without title; just like you actually. This little box is you. This little box is the only thing that proofs that you ever have existed. You are alone. You are without any huge, flashy headline. You are without a big article, without anyone looking for you. Without thoughts, without fire in your eyes, without any life. You are without title.