Poison Oak: Chapter 1

It had been three days since Tina had left, seventy-nine hours to be exact, as if knowing the precise moment her marriage had disintegrated would make it any easier to bear. The pain shed caused was still to raw, the pain of the bruise on her right cheek where her wife had inflicted such a physical curse on her, was made all the more excruciating because she knew that women was hurting more than her right now. And she was the reason. The violent wrenching of her heartstrings this realisation caused, made Bette withdraw deeper into her self-functioned cocoon of loathing and bitter torment that had been her home since she had swallowed the poison offered to her the moment she touched lips with Candace Jewell. She felt it as it seeped through every vein in her body, cooling down the pulses that beat so easily, freezing the heart that fluttered so wildly and quenched the desire that raged so violently when she was in the presence of Tina Kennard. And it was through defeated eyes that the ruins of Bette Porter peered wearily at the T.V. The one that had been keeping her company since she woke up the morning after, cold, crying and alone.

The ruins of Bette Porter, she thought, was a very apt way to describe herself right now. Bette had fallen from her pedestal, one she had fashioned with her own two hands, one that shed spent so much time ensuring lived up to the best possible standards. One that represented beauty and grace, sophistication and refinement, confidence and culture. Qualities that attracted other people towards her and then made them simply stop and admire. And right now Bette wasnt any of that. She was a world that had fallen because of an inner war that ravaged inside of her. Like a once great city that had now crumbled to dust and despair, and the only rivers that ran through it were the tracks of tears now searching desperately for any sign of life, for any figment of hope.

She opened her eyes and looked around the house, she remembered back to the times this shelter felt like a home. When the colours that surrounded her seemed more alive, more meaningful. She remembered the smells of their respective perfumes and how they used to naturally embrace and entwine mid-air giving the love that resided here its own unique scent. She remembered the sound of Tina singing softly in the kitchen as she cooked. Or when Bette herself would screech along to James Brown at the top of her voice while in the shower and then be greeted with the sight of Tina, who had been unfortunate enough to hear the whole thing, with tears of laughter rolling down her cheeks. She glanced at the couch and reminisced over the many times it had been a canvas where theyd physically expressed their love. Bette smiled at the memories, the many times shed come home from work thirsty for Tina and theyd had never made it as far as this couch before giving in to each other. She thought of the times her and Tina had lay outside, surrounded by the arms of the other, staring up at the night sky and the stars that looked like they had just been polished by a God that truly understood the dying art of romance.