A glance and I'm cold to my core. Spine blazing with the intuition that something simply isn't right. The face, the name, all the same, but the eyes are burning with something unknown; a daemon within them, a psychosis resurfaced? These are not the true colours I thought once shone through.
Pulse quickening, I double check all doors are locked. Not that doors can keep this out, but just the same there's the false sense of security provided by the 'thunking' deadbolts. Wondering why I looked back into those eyes, I dim the lights and retreat to a shadowy corner, questioning my sanity, intuition, gut, heart, head, logic all over again for the eight thousandth time.
"Little Pig, Little Pig, let me in!" "Not by the skin of my brainy brain brain!!" "Then I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll weave you the most beautiful, beguiling and fantastical farce you've ever heard that will have you begging me to come in over and over and over again!" "Why, yes, please Mr. Wolf, you are ever so dashing and charming, do come in and would you like a cup of tea?"
I know I'm not stupid, but am I really so gullible? How can I think I knew someone so intimately, so deeply, so far beyond the realm of heretofore known reality and not have seen that steely glint in their eyes? Cold-bloodedness has usurped joyous warmth. Was it there all along, or did I put it there? Did I blow those dark and evil clouds away with my presence only for them to return redoubled when I vanished?
I don't know. I have no right to know. But I'm haunted.
All I ever wanted was to know the whole truth, the unadulterated, bald-faced, staggering, make you weep with agony, and nothing but the truth. Instead I staggered into the most twisted web of lies ever conceived. Why is 'honesty' such a lonely word?
