More fiction from Me..

I could not turn the story off in my head that I had started for the contest.  I had to answer the question of why an aardvark and what did happen to her eye!! It has been awhile since I sat down to write fiction, and I have yet to finish my other book (I get eye rolls every time I try from hubby).  I am kind of skittish to post the continuation here because it really does not fit with my normal life witting.  But if every one keeps in mind this was just for fun and totally fiction I think it will be ok..  It is not too too racy so I don't think I will get a TOS lol.  Enjoy and let me hear your criticism.  

Why an aardvark? My roommate wondered when I told her what I had set out to find that day.  I couldn't go into all the details with her or even give her a clue.  It was a private symbol between me and Kelly.  Kelly was my first love and it is still bitter sweet to think of him.  He was the son of papa's favorite and most trusted worker Jack Siparow. Kelly would often come to the ranch to learn the trade from his father.  We didn't got along very well until the summer of my 16th year.  By then he grew out of the prankster boy and into a wounded young man. He was 19, tall, tan and strong like papa from working the land. I first noticed him and the change in my feelings stirring for him when I was out ridding my beloved horse.  Although I lived on the ranch my father was determined I would be a lady and sheltered me from the hard work involved with running the family ranch.  The only time I was close to knowing what papa's work life was like was when he allowed me to ride.  

I remember the field of wild flowers and tall grass with the lone weeping willow tree, where Kelly and I first made love.  It was not soft and gentle and as romantic as all those books I had read made it out to be.  When Kelly had taken me it was rough and forceful and quick with no pleaser in it for me. A dark side of him had come out that I had never seen before and should of been a warning to me of what was to come but I was too nieve to know better then. When it was over it was like a part of me had broken along with the cherry he had taken. I zoned him out and started to noticing the smallest of details as he got dressed and put his boots back on.  That was when I saw the brown mound close by and the little insects scurrying about it going in and out.  I felt small in that moment like those ants.  And as if he could read my mind or had followed my gaze to the anthill, Kelly stepped maliciously on the hill, stamping it flat and closing the hole.  When he had done that a tear slipped down my cheek.  Inside of me it was a piece of my soul he was stomping on.  

Although our first love making experience was horrible for me, in time he started to soften and show me the affection that made it more enjoyable.  Why I kept letting him lead me away would be a good question but I can only figure that I wanted to grow up and have a connection with him. Looking back it may not of been love, but it was more than just lust. Our physical attraction was not all we had and we would have long interesting talks about life as we laid in each other's arms. It was during one of these talks that I brought up feeling like an ant and how horrified I was over him snuffing out the anthill that day.  Kelly made light of it and turned it into a joke.  He said if I was an ant that would make him an ant eater.  He did make me giggle over that innuendo and it became our own private inside joke.  It was a few weeks later when come to work with his sleeves rolled up showing off a fresh tattoo of an old cartoon blue aardvark.  

At first I was so flattered by the tattoo. I saw it as a permeate token and reminder of his love for me but in time I became to see what it really meant.  A symbol of a hunter who was bigger and more powerful then it's pray and after all I would always be the small ant in Kelly's mind eye.  I would elaborate more but I think it will take many more therapy sessions before I can come to that point.    I thought coming to the city would make me the powerful one, that I would become bigger than that small ant and in turn become the aardvark.  That is why I so desperately wanted one for my loft and as a reminder to stay strong, as misguided as that sounds now. I took finding one in that warehouse of needful things as good fortune and a sign that, to quote Mary Tyler Moore, "I'm going to make it after all".  I remember thinking I would give just about anything to possess it.  After all that has happen I have learned to guard my thoughts andlongings more carefully, even from my self.   

The cashier must of thought I was a nut job for almost drooling as I paid for the little aardvark statue.  I could tell in her eyes that she thought he was ugly and happy to have it out of her possession. I thought maybe since I had been touched on the street by that strange lady some of her power had transferred to me and I could read the thoughts of this cashier as we made our transaction. But it was again more of my imagination set to work by the books I had been reading.  She made a side remark that the owner will be sad to see "fluffy" go because he was such a good conversation piece and, "I hope he serves you well".  As I left the boutique of strange goods I could of sworn I heard evil laughter over the chimes of the door.  But I shook it off as I clutched my aardvark and made my way back home, retracing my steps threw the concrete jungle.  

I was lost in exhilaration and the planning of where to put my prize. I was making confidant steps threw the ghetto.  I was thinking my desk was not a special enough place for him. I was flirting with the idea of having a cabinet made just to house him. I did not want dust to corrupt him. My roommate, who like me was looking to escape from a past life had an amazing boyfriend who was an accomplished wood worker. I was musing over how to offer him a trade for my imagined cabinet. It seemed out of no where when the first blow hit me on the back of my head.  My world started to spin but I fought off my attacker and kept a firm grip on "fluffy"  I never did see his face but I will always remember his voice telling me to drop it or I would be in for a beat down.  I was horrified in that moment, a nightmare coming true but I was determined not to loose what I had spent all day looking for.  May attacker pinned me down and had his hands on my face.  That was when I felt the sharp force of what the police told me later to be an ice pick.  The pain is still with me today and I am try to shake the memory of the popping noises of my  left eye coming out of it's socket and being ripped away from my body. I was going into shock and seeing all red from the blood but I still held a firm grip to the aardvark.   

When I woke up in the hospital I could not see but I insisted that they bring memy statue to hold on to, to help me feel safe and in control.....  

They have yet to catch the beast who took my eye.