First, I knew the cold, then I knew the look of love in someone’s eyes, the way they saw my sharp curves, and my glistening smile, the way that I could spin when someone wanted to dance. I learned about the realm of human consciousness, and before, it had never occurred to me that I should remember these things. I had no memories of what came before. I heard a lot of talk about being straight to the point, and I saw a lot of fear, a lot of anguish, I couldn’t control my own actions. I was made to do things that made me cold to the core, being with him. He dictated my every move, and my idea of freedom, whatever idea of it remained from before, was lost.
I loved the way he washed me down, and I felt it made me shine, like his evil teeth. Late at night, and sometimes in the afternoon when he’d come home, he’d sit and talk to me, as if he picked me apart piece by piece to learn something new about his companion, when he was gone, only the dog was there to keep me company, but the dog never looked my way.
I suppose maybe I took his attention away, but we were both told all about how he was biding his time, waiting for the right day, he said, he had to wait until the morning that started right. That even the slightest thing going wrong, like stubbing his toe on the coffee table before his morning coffee meant that he would go to jail. He called me beautiful when he ran his hands over me, told me that I was going to be his saving grace.
Sometimes he took me out, into the world, but not often. He told me how the world was dangerous, and that people would be tempted to take something so beautiful away from a man like him. Tell him he didn’t deserve such a beauty.
He was a gambler, I knew this. He called me Ace, he called the dog Jack, and he was a drinker. I assumed he was either paid well at work, or a winner, but we never really spoke about his day. We talked about the plan. His plan. The plan that was going to make our life together complete. He rubbed me down, over and over one night, after he came home late, looking down on his luck pulling his lucky chip out of his jacket pocket, he was always dressed so well. He said he could feel it, tomorrow was the day, and I was excited, for the first time, I was going to get to go to the place he always told me I’d really shine, like a star in the night. The place he always said I wasn’t ready to go yet.
The next evening as he got ready to go out, he made me watch as he shaved his face, as if I’d keep him from nicking himself, and he was so proud that today had gone so smooth, he bragged on and on about how none of the little things got him, like they usually do. He spun me around and looked at me with vengeance in his eyes, and out we went. Down the stairs out the door, up three blocks and down an alley to the back door of a club, where we went inside, sat down at a table, and played with the cards. I didn’t know what game we were playing, or why I was there, until the night had worn into morning, and we were accused of cheating. He’d won big, lost it all and come back out on top, but there was no crowd left, the cash was on the table, the doorman had left, he reached for me, in my flashing glory, I was hot, there were explosions, one, two, three, four, five, six; and there was blood everywhere. He carefully scooped up all the cash from the table, and very carefully checked the pockets of the other men, and then we fled. Up the alley, up three blocks, in the door, up the stairs and into the apartment we called home, where a man sat, with a lovely lady like myself in his lap, and then he aimed his lady at my man, and fired.
I knew what I was as I hit the floor. I rested that night, in his blood, my man who cared so about me, and in the morning, the police picked me up, called me a killer, and took me to live with them. I was unhappy.
My life flashed away, just like that. So here I am, riding under the arm of a new man, who found me too beautiful to go to auction.
