A Fallen Angel’s Apple Seed

And a poisonous trust.

A soul found me in my dreams. His face glowed and I yearned for his touch.

We whispered and laughed. He was charming and likable. It felt like I knew him but I couldn’t pinpoint from where.

He gave me an apple — Granny Smith, my favorite. The fruit’s waxy finish shined so brightly I could see my reflection. It looked like me but something was different. I felt foreign to my vessel as if I was sharing it with someone or something. I ignored my seemingly useless worries and relished the tartness of the first bite. He told me to eat the seeds, though I never did.

“I thought they were poison,” I questioned. “No, eat them and you will be saved,” he replied with adoring eyes. I wished to please him and did as he said. I lowered my eyes in contemplation. “Saved from what?” I thought.

Then he took me to his doorstep. He lived in Brooklyn. His hovering stance dominated the space. I looked away to admire the brick staircase. I started to feel odd when the brick chipped away when I touched it. It felt like I was on a cheap set. My stomach churned yet my intuitive thoughts were shooed away. This was very odd. Something was inside of me — with me. I then dismissed a bubbling gut.

He grabbed my wrist and cut me with a piece of glass. I gasped sharply and yelped in pain with narrowed eyes, while my wrist gushed and I felt faint. I didn’t fight and had an undying desire to win his affection. Who was I? An entity had taken control of my human form. This wasn’t me.

I knew it was a dream.

I closed my eyes tight and the scene changed. I ran from the wind in an abandoned city but she chased me. I found myself lost in the streets amidst twilight. The few faces I met were scrawny and pale. They looked like ghosts and smelled like cigarettes. They stared at me but said nothing.

I thought I could bear the poison of the apple seed, but I fell to the ground with aching tremors in my gut.

The man appeared again and he showed me his wings, but they smelled of must and were stained black from oil. He carried me for a long time, and the warmth of his chest soothed me.

I was on his doorstep again. The glass lay in my writhing gut as I moved in and out of a trance.

I wished to wake.

I couldn’t leave.

The moon caressed me while I cried my prayers. I lay alone on his doorstep in the night. My tears burned the skin of my cheeks.

I was stuck in my dream. It started to feel real.

Where is he?

My eyes grew heavy.

I wake in a bed that wasn’t mine. I am in his bed now, and he dressed my wound while I slept.

His fingers linger on my face and he kisses my forehead. His lips singed my skin. His touch repulsed me, sending shivers down my spine. I have noticed too late, his evil intentions.

My body is weak. I’m motionless. Then he raises an ax and bites into an apple. His stoic demeanor is unbreakable.

He takes my life.

It was just a dream.

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