Beautiful Manifestation

Bitter Reality

The flames danced around me, coiling their fiery tendrils in harmony, as they sparked and hissed drawing ever closer. Circling me, like starving lions aching to consume me. I withdraw wrapping my arms tightly around my legs, pressing my knees firmly against my chest. Feeling the shakey, quickening rhythm of my heart drumming against my ribcage. My breath quickening with each frantic beat, as the heat washes over me like a molten waterfall...threating to cook my flesh.

All felt lost in this moment. The flames where going to swallow me up, my world over, my life finished, before I ever truly felt it began.

I allowed my eyes to close, awaiting the grip of the blazing fire, but suddenly I felt a icey breeze pierce the anguish of the flames. I dare peek through my curious eyes glancing around seeing the chill has left nothing more then a thick purple smoke to surround me. My eyes widen as I glance around the fog the hiss of the flames gone, leaving me in deafening silence. The lingering icey tinge from the wind sending waves of chills up my spine, causing me to shiver where I sit.

" Don't worry my dear..."

a heavy, raspy voice breaks through the smoke, shattering the miserable silence, reaching my ear as if someone was right next to me. It was a voice that was familiar to me now. A voice that called to me for the past countless nights.

" ..I'll be with you...I'll protect you...if you will me to...."

My dark eyes dart swiftly around the haze, as the voice echoes around me. There was a silken hint to the harsh rasp now. That made my heart dance wildly around my chest without my permission, and tingles to jolt up my spine...

I shake my head quickly, as if to rid myself of the sensations.

I draw my eyes forward as a hiss of a chuckle breaks through the air, and the mist splits before me revealing a tall shadowing figure. The purplish fog seems to shy away from his presence, as if afraid of his touch. If to touch him would be... certain turmoil.

I advert my eyes, as the the dark form begins to draw closer. The air felt thicker with every new step he took. Each step seemed to cause my heart to jerk.

I turn my face away, slamming my eyes shut...my body quivering, frozen in place. My thoughts swarming, for what would he possibly have in store for me?

Despite his previous words, how was I to know them to be true....

Silents falls upon my ears, the softness of his steps fading in the emptiness that surrounds us...

What will happen now?

The quiet weighed on me, like the mighty jaws of alligator on a zebras throat...

Will this be it? The death roll that will end it all?

Suddenly I feel a warm finger tenderly tuck beneath my chin, guiding my face upwards. I allow my eyes to slowly fall open...cautiously.

My lips part slightly. I couldn't help but to be in awe, as my eyes wander over the curious sight before me.

I mentally trace over the strong line of his jaw. The ashy tones of his porcelain smooth flesh,

but uncertainty floods my senses, as I bask in the sight of him, his eyes remain hidden beneath the thick shadow cast down from the brim of his hat.

I could feel the heat radiating off his body, it was more intense then the flames that were moments ago threating to roast me to my core. I felt my body flush, as I felt his eyes bore into me. The edges of his mouth lightly twitching upward, creeping into a wide brilliant smile flashing me the razors that hid behind those pale lips.

My thoughts more clouded then the mist that shrouded us. My breath catching as my eyes fall onto his grin... curious to why the murderous veiw isnt phasing me like I feel it should...

It only makes my heart flip in anticipation.

There was a warmth in his presence. A strange comfort.

" I'm here."

There was a softness in his words...a promise.

His words lingered, echoing in my mind.

He tilted his head, slowly lifting my face higher. I couldn't help but follow suit...allowing my eyes to close before ....

My eyes fly open in a vicious haste. The alarm on my night stand blaring its shrill screech, flashing a deep red 6:00a.m. in the dim morning light. I cup my hands over my face with a rigid sigh, feeling the beads of sweat that had formed on the top of my forehead.

Why, why do I always wake up just before the moment our lips meet?

It all felt so real. I mull over the images that plagued my mind for the past various nights. The dreams that flooded my senses, and affected me so, even in my wake. Flashes of the strange, inhuman man beckon behind the mere snap of darkness each time I blink my eyelids. I ponder to why I feel such ease in his presence, a presence that should bring me dread. That should make me want to flee across the world...Yet

I find so...warm and inviting. How can that be...?

I ponder over my thoughts, as if I can force my brain to make sense of my fondness of this unnatural bean. I lower my hands slowly catching a glimpse of myself in the oval mirror on my vanity.

I look horrendous...

My short dark brown hair curling and looping like little duck tails all about my head. There are dark circles under my eyes, my cheeks flush... My heart still drumming madly against my ribcage. I draw in a few deep breaths in attempt to quell the trotting of the frantic beats. I reach over and smack the button to hault the scream of my bellowing alarm, as it centers my attention. I throw my arms up in a deep stretch. My muscles aching feeling as if I ran a marathon. I shift to the edge of my bed stiffly gathering to my feet. This moment was silent, but then all too abruptly... reality sets in...

"Harmoni!"

My fathers gravelly voice seethed through the door like lava.

" Get the hell up, you're working the front desk!"

...seconds pass, minutes that feel like hours. I stand frozen in place, until I hear the stumbling steps of my father fade down the hall. I shift my eyes to the clock briefly, listening to the harsh pound of my heart. Shaking my head sorrowfully, as I make my way to my vanity table taking my place on the low rising chest nut stool. I peer at myself in the mirror examining the natural wild curls scattered on my head...

the olive hue of my flesh, the rich nearly coal like darkness of my eyes. The exhaustion they hold...

Regardless knowing I must rush, before my father's temper rises I get dressed in a long sleeve form fitting simple black dress, with black ankle boots, with silver chains looped above the zipper. I take a passing glance at myself in the mirror before making my way to the door, curling my fingers hesitantly around the glass knob. Gradually I build myself up to face my reality and force my way through the door into the wide silent hall. I walk swiftly down the crimson carpet of the hall. the softness of the fabric muffling the sound of my heels. I gently press the shimmering clear elevator button making it turn a eerie red, as if I was making my way to meet doom. I'd greet him with a smile. I tell myself, because anything would be kinder then this.

soon the elevator open their clear glass doors before me. I step inside the empty circle my breath automatically catches as the doors close and I feel the elevator slowly sink down. My heart flooded with dread, every second the fear fueled thoughts lingering in my mind. This isn't how I thought my life would be. Living in fear every moment...

My thoughts even to be my own worst enemy. though the real monsters are external. Man, humans, humankind. The monster that floods my dreams was not the volume of my real tormentor that plagues, that lurks in his office making calls and faking smiles to the residents of this hotel, as he fixed the malfunctioning appliances and listen to them gripe... unknowingly adding fuel to the fire that is his rage, but they haven't a clue.

Softly with a "ding" the glass doors open and I am greeted by a vacant lobby. Stepping out quickly my heels clapping on the polished black marble, echoing through-out the emptiness. I step behind the desk, already anxious to escape the space. My thoughts consuming my bean wondering where my father may be in this building. Morning slowly fades to afternoon the silence felt never ending. Then a familiar, charming voice quaked through the quiet as if on on cue.

" Hungry, Miss Harmoni? "

The hotel chef greets me, a warm smile on his thin lips, causing his dimples to puff out and his grey eyes to shimmer showing his glee.

" Hello, Mr. Hannibal. " I greet him warmly in return. His smile manages to widen as he scoots forth a little cart with a silver dome in the center. He halts it before me, clapping his hands together like he was about to make a huge reveil. He curls his fingers around the top of the tiny nob on top of the dome.

" I'm trying out a new recipe....if you don't mind being my tester."

He chuckles softly to himself.

" Always happy to be sir. "

As the last few words escape me lips he plucks the dome off the tray with the flick of his wrist to reveil. Three blueberry pancakes topped with a neat swirl of whipped cream, covered in a blueberry compote, with rainbow sprinkles.

Paired with thick sliced bacon. Off to the side sat a blueberry muffin, topped generiously with a brown sugar crumble, and a bowl of strawberries with a warm honey drizzle.

my eyes widen and all of the meal. I glance up at Hannibal his smile is sweet with a light take on cheeky.

" This is a lovely presentation, but it's not new sir." I tilt my head in slight confusion, as I await his explanation.

"Oh, I know. " He chimes quickly. His smile broad on his face.

" But they are all your favorites! "

He gives me a playful wink, before he turns on his heels, making his way back to the kitchen with great haste, but that wasn't unusual for him at this time, the hour for dinner time was fast approaching. I set my sight on the blueberry pancakes and dive in. Hannibal was the finest chef in all of NewYork. Every flavorful creation well thought out and precise.

The pancakes fluffy as clouds and melt in your mouth like cotton candy. The bacon bacon crisp with savory salty notes. The muffin hardy, yet light the flavor of the blueberries and brown sugar intertwining harmoniously on my tongue. I turn my attention to the vibrant strawberries.

The berries a deep crimson hue, the soft give of a crunch, soon to be greeted by a sweet juiciness, the warm honey balancing the soft bitter notes of rhe berries.

The meal was decadent, a pleasant note in this dull day.

The rest of my shift went at snails pace. The sun just beginning to lower behind the sky scrapers. I sigh internally, as I tidy up the paper work. The day ran slow even though dozens of people checked in this evening, many last minute travelers looking for a place to stay for the night. Others looking to try the great Mr. Hannibals fine cuisine. I take many calls a day to book a seat at his table. He was booked months in advance, well known for his scrumptious sixteen course dinners. His experimental take on food with his dazzling secret twist was always a breath taking surprise. He was one for the tasteful dramatic and always blew everyone who got the opportunity to sit at his table away.

To me however, he was a settle, soft spoken man whom always made certain I had a meal in my belly. I appreciated him.

Finally the clock struck 8 p.m. I shoved the paper work into the filing cabinet beneath the desk taking a quick peek around the lobby not seeing a soul insight, so I make my way back to my room. I decide to use the the stairs, wishing to stay out of sight. The tap of my heels on the concrete steps echos through the stairs well.

Finally, I reach the last few steps. My feet screaming in protest as I top the last step of the thirteenth floor throwing open the emergency exit door, briefly glancing around the quiet hall, before coming forth sheepishly making my way to my room, letting the door to swing forth wide. I stand there peering blankly into the emptiness. My thoughts full, swarming me now without the hustle and bustle of the front desk.

How my days always felt so wasted, there was no freedom here. I long to be free to explore beyond these walls, beyond this hotel. To feel a warm breeze though my hair, to feel the sun caresses my cheeks, to go beyond the garden I once created on the roof to escape these walls, it all felt foreign to me now. My garden I'm sure long gone by now, my father forbidding me access to the roof after he found my oasis.

Nothing has felt the same since mom left.

Father's been a crazed man, unfamiliar, no sense of balance or certainty.

Unpredictable. I sit silently in my desk chair, lost in thought, consumed by the fear clawing its way through them. I shake my head viciously, as if I could throw out the bad thoughts.

What can quell this hurt? Then enters my mind , the creature that manifested his way into my dreams...

I collect my thoughts, leaning back into my chair, as I recall every dream I had of this...man.

He always puts out the burning flames just before they could ever touch me. Extinguishing

them just a light gesture of his hand. The smoke never touches him, always leaving him a clear path, but the shadows always held him...

What could possible be beneath that hat?

What does his eyes hold?

What would he tell me, what could he tell me?

I shake my head firmly once, in attempt to not get lost in my fantasies.

"They're only dreams...." I remind myself with a sigh. I continue my sketches outlining the his strong features carefully on the paper.

I lean back once more, tapping the top of the pen lightly against my lower lip pondering when I started to dream of the man and why...

I wasn't certain on either case, but he consumes my nights like the flames that once threatened to consume me. I smile to myself as I finish up my sketch and hang it up on the board above my desk, tacking it in place besides the others.

I stand back momentarily to admire my work, but my contentment was short lived. My eyes widening, my heart lerching against my ribcage as I hear the knob of my door turn. The doors swinging open slowly wasn't eerie creek... and... in the center of the frame stands a unwelcome sight. My fathers form was cast in shadows his back towards the bright florescent lights of the chandeliers in the hall. The room quickly began to reek of cheap beer. I cautiously rise to my feet, uncertainty of what to expect this time dread washing over me like a boiling water fall.

I've lost track of how many "matches" we've have had, but sadly...I always lost.

I sort through my words choosing them carefully, knowing it won't change my fate but perhaps buy a hint of time.

" How are..." I begin slowly...

" Save it!" He seeths, his words slurred and heavy as he takes a stumbling step inside, half full bottle in hand. He swirls the reeking content around a moment staring blankly as the bottle as if wondering how he had less then before.

His eyes where dark, unfocused, clouded like his mind. I knew that only fueled the monster that was inside him...

The monster that always got what ot wanted, that lust for blood.

My eyes dart over him, attempting to keep my breathing even, but as he draws his other hand out from behind his back, revealing a steel cleaver, it's silvery hues glinting off the light that poured in from the hall. He huffs out a deep exhale through his wet lips. My body froze, despite my mental pleas for escape as the blade come into veiw. He seemed to eye me oddly a moment, but monster smirked knowingly.

" Why do you...look at me...in such a way...?"

He fumbles over his words, his cheeks flush from intoxication...

" Like, I'm a...demon!"

He chuckles out, his mad laughter echoing between these walls, as he stumbles ever closer, gripping the handle of the blade harshly. Swinging it madly. He was truly crazed, his eyes where wide, foggy by hate fueled tears.

" You never looked at your mother like that!" He snarls, never halting his advances, each s***h coming ever more near. ' Run! ' I scold myself, My heart slamming violently against my ribcage, as if it was going to break through at any moment. I glance around frantically, searching for somthing, anything that could defuse the situation, but the only thing between us was my desk chair. Drawing in a quick breath, heaving the chair between us. He catches it slicing hastily at the velvety fabric, but that didn't pacify the beast. His eyes lock on me once against fresh despise fill them once more. He shoves the chair aside with a rage driven roar.

So much fear....

I back slowly, blindly, desperately...

A moments thought of leaping from the window crosses my mind, but I am on the thirteenth floor. Atleast it would be quicker then this. The relief of death would feel like mercy.

In the dim, as I feel the coolness of the glass against my back, slamming my eyes shut knowing what's to come. I feel a sting, followed by a rushing warmth...and...as if somthing inside him snaps...

He c***s his head up, tuns, and stumbles out of my room like nothing has happened. Afew moments pass... I stand there frozen, frozen in fear. Consumed by anxiety.

Soon I snap back to my bitter reality glancing down to examine the source of the pain. I was uncertain when I placed my hands over the wound, must of been reflex. I see the fresh crimson escaping between my fingers along my stomach. I couldn't see the extent of the damage, but I could feel my black dress was saturated.

I glance over to the drawings of the man, as if a unknown force push me to look...

A frown quickly falling upon my lips, for blood has been splattered onto my drawings. I press forward an involuntary whimper forces its way

past my lips as I make my way to the bathroom. I flick on the light with blood coated fingers. Shakily, I gather my sewing supplies and first aid kit, removing my dress, allowing the blood soaked fabric to fall to the floor. Making my way to the edge of the tub, beginning my routine cleaning and stitching my wound.

" Just another add to my collection..." I tell myself darkly, my voice breaking as the last few words fall from my trembling lips. My tears flee freely without my permission, clouding my vision. I blink a few times in a feeble attempt to clear my sight just enough to pull the last couple stitches through. With the final stitch in my flesh. I turn on the faucet drawing myself a lavender bath. Slowly sinking into the tub the soapy water stings my wound, but the lavender was mildly soothing to my frazzled mind. What am I supose to do? take care of a psychotic drunk until the day he eventually succeeds in killing me...?

He made me long for death already, but that would be a merciful act...and he, he just wishes to torture me to please the monster with-in. The monster that seemed to settle in after mom left. I allowed my thoughts to drift back to rhe kinder times...

When mom and dad seemed so in-sink working about this hotel. When they seemed so in-love. How they would tell me stories of how they met, and when they opened the doors of this old place. I was raised in these walls, this hotel was all I knew, it was home, or it used to be.

Then it all crumbled away...

Laughter turned to yelling, love turned to hate. Seemingly overnight, it seems so long ago now. One morning mom was gone and dad's been drunk ever since.

No words, no goodbye, just a void. My eyes drift tiredly over my cooling bath water, now a rosey hue from my blood. I wonder when the final blow will come, or if it will ever end. I collect myself the bloody water fleeing from my scarred flesh, wrapping a plush white towel around my form stepping forward, cautious in every movement. Pleading my stitches will hold as the pain seethed throughout my body timidly crawling into my bed...

My dark eyes drift hopelessly to the drawings of the man that captivated my dreams seeing the blood that has been splattered upon them...

A final plea...what else was there to do....

" I don't know who you are, but if you're real help me...."

My voice was barely above a whisper, my body damp and trembling against the sheets, until finally sweet slumber takes hold.