Sleeping Beauty
by adam
Prep schools were the private cage of the not so rare breed of boys
that would soon immerge to open mouth rape the world. Entombed in hallowed halls of their
grandfather and father, older notorious brothers and uncles turned senator, parliament,
pedophile. They roamed ivy walls protected like beasts on the plains, confident like only
fed boys can be, and dressed in fine suits and finer smiles. They discussed marks like
lovers, they discussed lovers like marks, and they were on the most part, all complete
bastards waiting for graduation day and university.
That was, all except Beauty. Only just turned 18, his hair had gone
silver but he did not try to hide it with dye or magic. He had gray eyes that made people
confess love they didn't really have, to him. He had a cruelty that made people who met
him in passing, loathe him. He had a grace, that caused anyone who experienced it, to grit
their teeth and later masturbate.
Beauty saw University as another four hundred years of nothing at all.
It was another opportunity to doze in classes he didn't need to even attend to receive
golden stars, and all night parties deep underground with 2000 of his closest friends, and
200 of his dearest drugs. He obsessively exercised. He paid extravagant amounts of money
to strangers to piss on him.
He had no dreams of office or station. Beauty had never had to consult
his cheque book. Having had a small team of accountants, annalists and investors over
seeing his ample trust fund since he had turned ten, Beauty just knew when the ashtray in
his new BMW was full and it was time to toss the entire thing away.
He was half bored with the exotic.
He was thrilled for only seconds at a time.
He dabbled in the erotic.
He took jet aeoplanes on a whim to change the clime.
Beauty, who rarely saw or heard from his parents unless there was
scandal, was surprised when he received a letter from them, asking he attend a party in
his honour. A celebration, they called it, for his impending end of youth.
It was a grand affair with guests who stared and others that bared.
His parents sent word that they would not be able to attend due to no reason at all.
Apathy had flown in from across several oceans, accessible no matter what time of the
year. Beauty met His embrace easily and watched the golden watch Apathy made a gift of,
slide onto his bare wrist so he would always see the passage of wasted time. Contempt was
summering in France but had sent on a wrapped box with a secretary. Beauty opened it
slowly and did not put it aside. Conceit met him on the balcony where he stood alone
smoking a cigarette and fucked him against the cold rail in sight of his guests who
pretended not to notice. Conceit left him with a kiss on the small of his
back and new car keys pressed into his palm. They all waited for the last guest of honour
to arrive but as the sun began to rise Beauty knew they would not be coming to save him.
Driving with the top down, speeding winding up the California coast, he
let the letter of regret from Apology go in the wind with a smile. Another expensive piece
of candy went up his nose and he pushed the gas petal to the floor.
The sun was rapidly drowning itself in the roiling purple ocean. Instantly and insanely
jealous, Beauty turned the wheel and broke through the guard rail, sending himself and his
new sable Mercedes hurtling into space.
Beauty's mother hadn't seen her son in over a thousand years and was completely consolable at the news of his death. Despite the severity of the wreck that was recovered from the surf, she demanded to have his body sent to their sprawling home.
He was miraculously untouched.
His mother sat for long periods of time at his side where he lay. Her
bottomless glass of indifference, and smoldering cigarettes were refreshed by servants.
After several weeks she did not move at all and the servants left her
alone.
After several months, the garden was overgrown and pool had turned
monster green. The plants wove their way into the engine blocks of the fleets of cars, and
into the wrought iron windows. They grew around his mother who sit sat in silence and over
the servants that were as still as stone, waiting for their mistresses word.
After a few years, there was nothing left of the mansion on the hill,
it had succumb to the quiet and buried in the tangle of rot.
An E Hollywood special said, he laid there still waiting for Prince
disarming.
Untouched and perfect, gray eyes open and clear.
But no one cared much to find out.
the end