Severed Souls

We were hanging there in suspension, on a finely wound web of deceit.

It startled us to think that we would in some way now be normal. She had lived 19 years of her life with a hideous boil-sized growth on the end of her nose. It made her nauseas to think what people thought of her when they looked at her. He, on the other hand, had been burned severely as a child, and his face was still there yet, somehow melted. His life could have been compared to that of a sideshow freak.

They had been living together now for 5 years, saving every penny they made. Today was the goal achieved. The bright and shining reward for 5 years of hard work and determination. They were in love. In deep soul love, where outside appearances are not even a factor in the equation. Deep soul love.

They sat together in a very bland and normal waiting office, awaiting the moment of normalcy in their own lives. However, their presence in the bland waiting room somehow took away its sense of normalcy and everything turned strange. It was the sideshow freak rhythm and blues review right there in the blandly strange waiting room.

In a couple of minutes they will be called in to the back of the clinic and meet the black market doctor, the very illegal Doctor Dim. He would be assisting them on their quest for normalcy today. Doctor Dim was an underground surgeon practiced in the art of changing appearances and they had saved every penny they had for 5 years. Doctor Dim’s prices were half of what it would cost at a real hospital. Doctor Dim is all they could afford and they had every ounce of faith that he would get the job done, and restore some since of normalcy to their twisted and scarred worlds.

They were in love. Deep Soul Love.

She was going under the knife to have the hideousness removed from her now deformed nose. He was having a latex prosthetic mask made and from the measurements of his melted head and a picture he had of himself when he was 4 years old. It was all he had. It was all she had. It was all they had, and they loved each other. They were in Deep Soul Love

They heard their names called and jumped to attention and made their way down the darkened hall. They held tightly to one another’s hands. The Doctor would see them now, and yes, now is when they fully realize that you get what you pay for in this wicked world.

She was handed a bottle of warm Jack Daniels and told to take a few belts before going under the knife. “Anesthesia” Doctor Dim said in a most professional manner, as he made his way toward her with the scalpel. She took 3 good hits off that fine Tennessee whiskey before the good Doctor lopped off the hideousness on her pointed nose. Plop went the hideousness when it hit the dull red floor. She was given a handful of gauze and a bottle of rubbing alcohol and instructed to apply pressure immediately. She didn’t have enough money to pay for stitches and she would have to make due.

He was given a shoddy latex mask that looked strangely like a grown up cabbage patch doll. It scarcely had hair and was permanently scarred with a childish grimace on its odd looking face. He was told he looked fantastic, when in reality he looked more hideous than before, just not melted now. He knew they had to spend most of the money they had on her, because hers was more of a surgical nature. He loved her and settled for his end of the reward. He loved her and she loved him. That is what mattered. They were in love.

Within five minutes the deed was done and they walked together hand in hand back towards the waiting room to give payment for services rendered. They looked deep into each other’s souls and saw all the beauty of life that stands there.

She was standing there with blood running down the front of her yellow cotton dress, applying alcohol and pressure to her now gaping wound, reeking of sour mash whiskey. He stood looking like some horrorshow slasher in a bad Jason mask. They were in love, deep soul love, and looked forward to a life of normalcy.

Normalcy of the soul.

We were hanging there in suspension, on a finely wound web of deceit. It startled us to think that we could somehow someway be normal.

He stood waning on the diamond hard edge of a moment.

Bitter tears bled form his ugly green eyes. He had waited a lifetime for this, and now that it was here, he cringed. She was the center of all attention, not him. He thought of escape through suicide, but that seemed far too easy. He saw his only way out, as portraying a homicidal maniac, vicariously living through her pain.

They were in love. Deep soul love, and he now saw the need.

He now saw that he needed to sever the soul that loved him.


Randall W. Collier, 39, is a full-time student at a local university in Bakersfield California. He has been writing since he was seven. This is his second appearance on spread.