"Dark Love"

"Come" she says, beckoning over her shoulder as she walks away. There is an imperious sound to the word which is at odds with the complacent smile on her lips and the flicker of emotion in her eyes. I pause for a moment, watching the movement of her lithe form as she opens the basement door, twisting at the waist to see if I will follow. It makes a striking picture, the stretched fabric throwing one breast into stark-relief, the unconsciously seductive pout of her delicately curved lips, and again that shadow darkening her blue eyes.

I could no more not follow than I could dance on the ceiling... This is my clever way of saying that I am drawn to her now as I have always been. Moths with their searing flames have nothing on the bittersweet attraction I feel toward Jeanette, the conflagration that destroys the moth could be considered pleasurable in comparison to the shredding I should get if she ever finds out that I think myself in love with her.

How do you tell your best friend of twelve years, the same girl you have had giggling slumber parties and makeovers with since fourth grade, the same girl who cried on your shoulder six months ago after discovering her boyfriend in bed with another woman, the same girl who shuddered delicately when confronted by any evidence of homosexuality: that you are a lesbian, and coincidentally madly in love with her?

You don't.

"What is it?" My head tilts to one side as I join her at the top of the stairs, peering down into the darkness. My only response is her hand at my hip, urging me to move forward. I hesitate for a moment, fighting back that childish fear of the darkness which even in my early twenties, I have yet to conquer. That the viscous dark fills the same basement we used to terrify ourselves by filling with imaginary ghosts and monsters probably does not help, not even the knowledge that said beasts were constructed by an overactive mind and nothing more.

Her hand pushes again, sliding up from hip to waist, fingers curling into the small of my back. The movement is slow and gentle; it sends a shiver of wanting through my body, this intimate caress. It gives me the courage to take the first few steps. Courage is bolstered after a moment by the sulfuric smell of a match being lit and put to candle. We are in the center of its light, held safe within a magic circle of protection. I focus on that, forcing it to be enough for me to see whatever it is that I am being taken to.

She is a step behind me, her fingertips trailing up along my spine to grasp my shoulder, nails scraping lightly against the back of my neck. Her thumb was brushing up and down along the rapid pulse in my throat. My mouth is dry now, my thoughts in a thunderstorm of activity. Could there be some significance to these actions, these gentle caresses, her breathy sigh that whispers my name halfway down the staircase?

I stop, turning to look up at her, allowing all of my confusion to show on my face. "Jenni?"

She smiles softly, leans forward to press her lips to mine in a fleeting kiss. The back of her hand brushes against my cheek before she touches my shoulder, urging me to turn around and continue.

Stunned, I comply. My thoughts are blank now, unable to process this new stimulus, unable to focus on anything but the momentary warmth of her lips on mine. I think I am in shock.

Her whisper confirms the thought, as we continue down the stairs. "I know that you love me, you always have. It used to scare me, you know... Like your fear of the dark, a deeply debilitating fright that made me unable to understand its meaning... Or my own feelings..." Her hand moves through my hair for a moment, tangling amongst the curls. I can almost hear the smile in her chuckle as she frees herself and continues.

"It was Paul who helped me figure it out, though I still don't quite know how. Seeing him with that girl... I was so hurt, so consumed by jealousy. But my first thought was of you, wanting to see you, be comforted by you. I knew that you would be there for me, as you always had been. I felt safe when you held me. I knew that if we were ever together, you would never cheat on me, you would never hurt me."

We come to the bottom of the stairs. The wide expanse I have explored in childhood dares is changed significantly. Where it had previously been one large room, it is now separated. A brick wall adorned by a heavy metal door claims more than half of the space. I study the shiny new padlocks for a moment before turning again, knowing that whatever secret she has to share lies behind the new construction.

With one hand she tugs at a chain around her throat, pulling out a key which she uses on the locks. That strangely complacent smile is on her lips again as the door swings inward, she watches me expectantly, a flicker of emotion again coloring her eyes. As I step within, she follows with the candle held high, swinging the door shut behind her.

The flickering flame delves into dark corners, exposing a Spartan room. A table with three chairs, two cots against the wall with blankets piled on them; a curtain in one corner offers a modicum of privacy to the small shower and toilet. A row of shelves contain supplies, candles, food and such.

"The walls are over a foot thick, completely sound proof. There is running water, but no electricity. Dad had it built as a bomb shelter of sorts, about four years ago, just before he died. You could survive down here for years... and no one would ever know..."

There is something sinister in her tone, some flickering hint of badness which is supported by a sudden shifting within the room. One of the blanket piles is pushed away as a man sits up, blinking owlishly in the half light of the room. He stares at me as if I were an apparition, rubbing his face as he struggles to his feet. "Ashley?" It is Paul, the unfaithful boyfriend who broke Jeanette's heart by disappearing shortly after the cheating incident. "Thank God..."

Hope lightens his dark eyes as he stumbles forward, reaching out toward me. At the last moment he veers away, turning to stare at Jeanette as she speaks again. "Paul came to beg forgiveness, offered to do penance... But he tried to go away again when I brought him here. So I hit him over the head and put locks on the door." He stumbles backward to fall onto the cot again.

"Jenni?" I flinch away from the possessive look in her eyes, glancing toward the door as I consider flight.

The candle's flame flickers, and then dies as she blows it out. Darkness falls upon the room, swallowing me whole. I back myself into a corner, clenching my hands into tight fists. I can feel my nails tearing into the flesh of my palms; my mind is full of static.

I hear a soft scraping sound somewhere off to the left, followed by Her voice. "Paul will never leave me again." It is a breathy sigh of contentment which makes me shudder and cower more deeply into my corner, my bastion of safety. "Paul will never leave me again... and neither will you."

The door slams with an echoing clang which bounces around inside my head and erupts from my throat in a soul searing scream. As the scream dies down and my lungs fill for another, I hear Paul's weary voice from across the room.

"Don't bother; no one will ever hear you."