She felt her eyes inside of her head, glossy & far, huge & sliding. She felt like they were two big fortune teller's crystal balls, Slippy, gleaming with secret hopes and fantasies.

     She read in a book about witches how they used magick herbs and magick flowers to make people fall in love.

     Belladonna eyes.

Or maybe it was just brown opium that made her vision glimmery & faint like she was living threw a flashback.

     Belladonna.

The tall man with the large doe eyes & scraigily dirt coated blonde hair was leaning close to her. She could feel his breath on her face. He seemed to glow. His skin was all liquid golden in the yellow light,
She thought, Yellow Fever.

She saw sparks of fairies behind him, in his hair, behind his eyes.

     Hey Honey, He said gently. Honey voice and skin. Hey, are you ok? You want some more, he asked.

She was falling in love.

     Belladonna drugged.

She read somewhere that Rich Italian Ladies in the old days would put that poison in their eyes. It made them look big and watery.

Belladonna means beautiful woman.

     The man hovered above her, Smirking & Grinning & Smiling Sickly Sinfully Sweet.

Lover Girl, Am I getting threw to you?

     She became aware of her whole body at once. Not just her glass eyes or sweaty palms or sinking stomach. Her whole body shook, Wanted her to draw him nearer,
Jump inside his skin.

Her arms extened, slowly, directly above her. Reaching, wanting to touch that face, feel the stubble on his chin, taste his golden glow in her mouth. But all she could do was...
...reach...
...up...

     He gently grabbed her wrists and hoisted her up.

You're hearing me, Sugar?

His name was blocked off in her mind. The memories, if any, were gridlocked behind a dam in her brain.

     She wanted to ask him his name
Or
Was He an Angel?
A Devil?
A Fairy Boy?
Anything.

If she had believed in any of those things he would've have been all three.
She couldn't ask. All she could do was,
Cough,
Choke,
Up on her words.

He rested her back against a coffee table and then hurried away. She fell into the couch next to it and sank to the floor anyway. He came back with water and made her drink it. He picked her up and put it to her lips and She finally managed a dry thank you.

     No problem, Sugar-lips, not a thing.

He pulled from no where a doctors bag. Big brown leather bag carrying evil secrets and remidies like in the old west.

More.

He was talking to her but she was contemplating the bag, staring blankly.
This man-boy...

     Her memory slid threw a crack in the dam, slipped into her heart. He'd kissed her,
This man boy,
Pushing his full lips hard on her tiny mouth.
Hungry, like he was starved of love.
He'd opened the bag and taken out magic cures.
Tied up her arm tight and used needles to let brown sickly opium seep into her veins.
She'd been crying,
Fell to the floor,
Holding herself,
Seeing and thinking things she didn't want to see or think.
She'd worn herself out and fallen asleep on the Unknown Man's floor.

     More.

He repeated. It was a statement, comand, not a question as it should've been.

     Belladonna love.

Her hands were knarled, white knuckles from clenching them tight. The color was gone from her face. She felt it sagging. And she studied him. Beauty. She nodded,
More.


And she would be those Italian Ladies. She would be delirum. Live and breathe it. She would keep herself forever drugged and in love.
That's all she needed.
She would become Belladonna.
Eyes, Drugged, Love.

If you [Log In] as a member you can discuss this work with others