Clothed in Red (rewritten)

She was too innocent. Gullible, which came at a grieve cost.

Clothed in Red

She worked the same shift as he did in a small supermarket in Aynor, South Carolina and both cashiers were next to each other. They worked the same shifts the entire week except for Saturdays and Sundays, he worked the night shift. He was very thin and tall and she was short and quite thick and always complained about her weight and told him that she used to get made fun of in high school because of her weight. She had scar marks all over her arms. He always wondered what they were:

“I was a cutter,” she said.

“What do you mean a cutter?” he said.

“I mean I used te cut myself with a razorblade.”

“Oh my God, why?!”

“It relieved my stress, made me feel a whole lot better. I hated being made fun of. They used te call me a-fat hog,” she said.

“You’re not a fat hog Sarah.”

“Really?”

“Yes really. Feel free to express yourself as you like.”

“So ye don’t think I’m awkward?” she said.

“Well maybe you’re a little different but I still like you.”

“Oh Gawlee, that makes me feel lots betta. Thank ye Akhmed.”

“You’re welcome.”

His legal residency had expired two years ago and his driver’s license was his only cover. He needed a quick way to obtain his legal permanent residency. Most of the friends he had married an American to get their residency:

“Marry her Ahmed. Marry her, get your residency then dump her,” one of his friends suggested in an exploitive manner.

“I can’t do that man. It’s inhumane,” he said.

“Well I tell you what: make a deal with her. Pay her, get married and get your papers then let her go. That’s it. No one gets hurt.”

“You think she’ll say yes?” he wondered.

“I don’t see why not.”

They both got out of work on Thursdays at the same time and stood chatting outside of the supermarket. He found her very intelligent, just didn’t find her physically appealing. She particularly liked talking about English and English authors so did he.

“I really like you Sarah,” he fabricated.

“Oh jeez I didn’t see that comin. I like you too. I really like ye. Ye ain’t like other min,” she said.

“What do you mean? Is there anything wrong with me?”

“Well no. Yer honest and nice. Ye ain’t no trickster goin after tail.”

“No Sarah that’s not me.”

“What do ye like in me?” she shyly asked, blushing.

“Well you’re very smart and you’re into the humanities and so am I. We both like Faulkner.”

“I guess so,” she glistened.

“Say? Do you want to go out next Friday? I’ll take you to Applebee’s, my treat,” he eagerly proposed.

“Yea sure,” she excitedly said.

She got used to him and he painted her life in violet unaware of what he was doing to her heart, the hypnosis he’s spelled on her. She fell in love for him in no time but he treated her as a common friend and pretended to like her.

They went out on Friday and she was opening a door that led to a dismal alley, forming his cynical plots for him in dillusion:

“Say Akhmed? I want ye te meet my friends. They’re really nice,” she rushed. “I want ye to meet my mother.”

“Well sure. Say when and where,” he drew her in.

They met at Susan’s, her best friend.

“Susan I want ye te meet Akhmed. He’s the nice gentlemin I been tellin you about.”

“Nice to meet you Akhmed,” her friend shook his hand, while wisely peering into his dull eyes.

“Please have a seat. What would you like to drink?” Susan asked him.

“Coke thank you.”

He sat next to the mesmerized damsel. Her friend gave him a can of Coke and he drank it.

“I’ll leave you two out here. I have homework that I’ve got to finish.”

She ran her fingers through his thick black locks and said,

“Kiss me. Please kiss me.”

“Well I can’t do that Sarah. I’ve never done it before.”

“Really? You ain’t kissed no one before?” she wondered.

“No I’ve never kissed or been kissed before,” he pliantly said, with no expressions on his bleak face.

“Then you must be a virgin?!” she surprisingly said. “Oh my Gowlee I got me a virgin,” she excitedly said.

“Yep.”

“Wawnte know a secret?” she said, with her eyes closing in on his.

“Sure.”

“I’m-a virgin too.”

“Really? Are you telling me that you’re twenty three and you’ve never had sex?”

“Na, ain’t never. Savin it for the right man,” she slowly climbed over him and eased him down the couch. They exchanged kisses timelessly. He kept drawing her into deep water and she could barely swim. He wanted to pounce, reveal his intentions, just didn’t know when for sure. At the same time he was smothered in gilt, seeing her sinking deeply.

“Alright you two that’s enough smooching,” Susan came out.

He got up leaving her breathless:

“Well I’ve got to go. It was nice meeting you Susan. Bye Sarah,” he said on his way out of the door.

“Bye,” Sarah faintly said.

“Hey snap out of it,” Susan snapped her fingers at her.

“What?!” Sarah flickered her eyes in surprise, breathless.

“Watch out for guys like him. They play the innocent card then catch you off guard. He wants something and it doesn’t always have to be sex Sarah,” Susan warned her.

“No Susan he’s different,” she blissfully denied.

She introduced him to her mother next, took him home and got her way with him. Her mother warned her just as her friend did. She wore the deceiving Prada shades on her own. He felt that it was finally time for him to unveil his intentions and he did it cruelly, suavely cruel:

“Sarah would you marry me?” he surprised her while kissing.

“What?!”

“Marry me,” he reaffirmed.

“Well Akhmed you caught me off guard there. I ain’t ready te make such a commitment,” she withdrew herself from above him.

“I need to get my residency. Marry me. I’ll pay you. How does three thousand dollars sound?”

“It ain’t about the money. I just thought ye was different,” she shockingly replied. “I thought ye was different. I loved ye. I gave ye my heart. I gave you everything and yer takin it all away from me,” she unfathomed.

“I’m sorry Sarah,” he guiltily replied.

“Don’t ye love me Akhmed? Please say yes. You’ve said it before. Did ye lie te me?” her eyes collecting tears.

“I’m sorry Sarah but I really don’t love you. I just needed this favor,” he got up and buttoned his shirt.

“Ye don’t love me?! Ye lied te me this whole time,” she said.

“I’m sorry Sarah. I’ve got to go. It was nice knowing you. It really was. I guess our intentions just didn’t coincide,” he apologized.

“No they did not, they sure did not,” she said it blankly gazing at him.

He opened the room door and hurried out.

“It was really nice knowing you Miss Deborah,” he rushed outside of the trailer door.

She sat in front of the mirror overwhelmingly surprised. She opened the makeup drawer and stared at the razorblade, disguised behind a lustrous shimmer. Inviting.

“Ye miss me don’t ye?” she addressed the razorblade in a stupefied manner. “I missed ye too. Yer the only friends I gots. Ye take my pain away,” she wiped her tears. “Take my breath away, won’t ye?”

She picked up the razorblade and violently slit her left wrist. Blood gushed in unknown and forgotten lands. The crimson fountain generously flowed. She grew numb and eternally blacked out, dwindling into forsaken nameless dreams.

“Sarah?! Sarah?!” her mother yelled out loud, rushing down the hallway.

“Oh Jesus Christ, darlin!” her mother screamed.

She innocently lied in a stark pool of her own blood, eyes wide open, staring into the ambivalent Heavens. She lived her life’s fantasy. She lived true love and it became her undoing. She trusted a distant foreigner and treaded into forbidden boundaries guidlessly. She was branded with innocence, too pure for an environment where wolves dwell for illguided lambs, the victim of a cruel reality. Gullible. Her soul along with her memory vanished like a solemn breeze vaporizing into a ruthless desert.

Author's Note

A poignant piece of work.

Reviews

[Vria P Crow]

INTRODUCTION

The title attracted my wondering eye. "Clothed in Red" seems to be misinterpreted as far as titles go. For instance, the color "red" has an ambiguous sense of symbolism:

1. Passion
2. Aggression
3. Seduction

versus

1. Protection
2. Innocence
3. Blood

QUOTE DISSECTION

“It relieved my stress, made me feel a whole lot better. I hated being made fun of. They used to call me a-fat hog,” she said.

This made made feel sadness for Sarah. :(
She is beautiful; a victim to abuse.

“Oh Gawlee, that makes me feel lots betta. Thank ye Akhmed.”

Awe. This makes me want to hug Akhmed! He is a beautiful, male soul!

“Marry her Ahmed. Marry her, get your residency then dump her,” one of his friends suggested in an exploitive manner.

Friends tend to encourage i m p i s h behavior. Peer pressure is something that reigns in our young adult life. However, we are g u i l t y by association at times.

"He found her very intelligent, just didn’t find her physically appealing. She particularly liked talking about English and English authors so did he."

oh no!

At this point in the story, the Reader reaches p r o b l e m of this affair between Sarah and Ackmed. As the Reader, I can already see that this is going to go in a bad direction. I have faith however.

PREDICTION MADE TRUE

"She fell in love for him in no time but he treated her as a common friend and pretended to like her."

This commonly happens to two partners; unrequited love. It does happen, and it is pointless to play the blame game.

“Watch out for guys like him. They play the innocent card then catch you off guard. He wants something and it doesn’t always have to be sex Sarah,” Susan warned her.

I like Susan.
My sister's name is Susan:

1. Beautiful
2. Blond
3. Sexual

"It ain’t about the money. I just thought ye was different,” she shockingly replied. “I thought ye was different. I loved ye. I gave ye my heart. I gave you everything and yer takin it all away from me,” she unfathomed."

Sarah is correct. I do not blame her for falling in love.

CONCLUSION

"Gullible. Her soul along with her memory vanished like a solemn breeze vaporizing into a ruthless desert."

Primarily, I thought that she was "gullible." Innocence is a relative term. Her need to cut herself as a response to bullying does not make her a martyr for v i r g i n i t y. The reason her love life did not work out is because she did not "love" herself. She put her love into another; Akhmed. I perceive him as the i n n o c e n t one because he was afraid to just be upfront and honest in the first place.

My favorite character was Susan because she tried to help her friend. She did not sexually hit on him because she is a w***e. She did it to test his true intentions.

Overall, the Short Story was of pure genius. Nice work, Shane!

[Shane Mohamed]

Brilliant literary critic. Simply brilliant.

[Vria P Crow]

Thank you, Shane! I curtsy with respect.

[Shane Mohamed]

I think The Client is what's going to set you on fire. You'll probably like it the most.

[Vria P Crow]

HAHA The sound of it makes me intrigued. I'll be reading it tomorrow since I am very tired.
Good night and sweet dreams, Shane!

[Will Neill]

This is better Shane.
Will

[Shane Mohamed]

Thank you sir.

[Will Neill]

A poignant piece with out a doubt Shane, how ever while reading this I never got to know where Sarah contrived her accent from, to write a charcaters slang is quite difficult and can take away the believeablity of him or her if it not done well. Also I (the reader) found that in some parts it read like a narrator standing on the wings telling us their back story, maybe a bit more sutle discriptions could work better (always show and not tell) -maybe also equalise the page lay out between dialouge? In the last paragraph you use the word 'Violently twice in one sentence, maybe concider leaving out-'blood, gore,and 'her wrist violently splashed'- maybe let the reader use their imagination?- read the piece through again and see what would be best kept and what should go. I hope you find this helpfull Shane.
Will

[Shane Mohamed]

This is very constructive. Thanks. Maybe I aught to add a location setting to the story and keep the other points in mind as well. Thanks Will.