I loved Marjorie with every fibre
of my being. She was my first true love
. And she loved me back, oh my word did she love
me back. I mean, she didn't say anything, but I knew. I could see it in her eyes.
Your first one is always the hardest to get over. Luckily, I never had to get over Marjorie. She will love me forever. She
didn't say that, not in those words, but sometimes, you can just tell. When I looked into her eyes, I knew. And that was good
enough for me.
I bought her a puppy, once. It died the same day, before I even got a chance to give it to her. So I had it stuffed, and
gave it to her anyway. She cried a bit, but I think they were tears of joy. Sometimes the joy was so intense for her, she
couldn't bear to look at little Snuffy. I'd find him stuffed into an old suitcase, or in the attic. One time she even
threw him out, left him in the bin. Joy can be hard, sometimes, harder than misery.
We didn't live together, me and Marjorie, not at first. She was old fashioned like that, wouldn't even let me into her house.
She was so religious, one time she even called the police and had me arrested, so that I wouldn't come into the house and
break the sanctity of her womanhood. Even got a restraining order, just in case. She loved me SO MUCH, she was prepared to
go through all that, so that I wouldn't be stained by my own sin. But that was Marjorie for you. Always caring. Always
We had our ups and downs, like every other couple. But they just made us stronger. I remember after one argument - can't even
remember what it was about - where she was screaming and screaming at me to leave her alone, and I was like "Marjorie, if
you're all alone, who will protect you?" That's why I had the knife. For her protection. She had to be kept safe, I mean,
there's wackos out there, you know?
But we're over such petty troubles now. Me and Marjorie will be together forever. My current girlfriend doesn't know
anything, of course, she wouldn't understand. She wouldn't understand that my love for Marjorie is
pure, virginal, holy. I've told her that I keep all my photo equipment in that room, which is why she must never, ever go in
there, in case she ruins the chemicals and negatives by accident. The door is triple locked, for safety. I always said I
would keep Marjorie safe. And now I am.
I have to go in when Jo is asleep. I wait, making sure that she is fast asleep, then I chloroform her to make sure she
won't wake up and disturb me. I pad downstairs, and unlock Marjorie's room. I go in, kiss her gently on her bony forehead,
and bask in her love.
The years have not been kind to Marjorie, but for me, appearances mean nothing, not when you have the
kind of love that me and Marjorie have. I've had to put broken pieces of mirror into her eye sockets - I light a
candle, and make it flicker, the reflected light from the flame dances around and makes it look like her eyes are twinkling
at me. I get out the leftovers from yesterday's dinner, take my clothes off, cover myself in The Ointment, and express my
love for Marjorie. She doesn't need to do anything back, I wouldn't ask that of her. But I know that she loves me, just as
much as I love her.
I can see it in her eyes.