Excerpt:
I want to stop but, my compulsions demand this of me. I need to feel empty. I can't take this awful feeling inside. I force my body to purge its contents. By the time I'm done my throat burns. My mouth tastes like bile, blood, and death.
I lay on the cool tile floor and weep. I didn't ask for this. I didn't ask for any of this. I didn't ask to be passed around the system. I didn't ask for those pills. I didn't ask to be forced to sell myself. I didn't ask for this man to love me. It's not fair for either of us.
He should have gotten a good girl. He'd probably be a lot happier with a woman like Dr. H. I can see she cares about him and his family. She's so nice and clean. The kind of woman who's been untouched by the hardships of the world. I wish I could be her.
I pull myself up to wash my face. I cup the water in my hands to bring to my lips. I swish it around my mouth before spitting. Just as I had suspected the water is tinted pink from my blood. I sigh knowing Eros will smell it on me later.
Maybe there's some mouthwash I can use to cover the scent. I open the cabinet to be met with countless orange pill bottles. For a moment I forget to breathe.
These are his grandmother's. I couldn't steal them from her. She needs these meds to get through the day. However, Eros and his family are quite wealthy. They could easily afford to replace anything I take.
Gingerly I pick out a bottle and read its label. This one isn't it, I need some kind of painkiller. I look through the bottles until I find one.
I unscrew the top and pour a few of the pills into my hand. I look at them questioning if I'm really going to do this. They look harmless, they always do. Little white ovals stare back at me. I pop them into my mouth and feel them fall into my stomach. It won't be long until they work their magic.
I exit the bathroom and go to lay on Eros's bed while I wait for the high to kick in. When it comes I relish in the lightness it gives me. It erased the burdens of my identity and past. I feel only what is now.
The door squeaks open and I sit up to stare lazily at Eros. I know he can immediately tell what I've done. He freezes in the doorway looking back at me with tearful eyes.
"Hello wonder boy", I sing.
"Why did you do this?", He asks. I rise from my place on his bed and walk over to him.
"Do you think I'm pretty?", I ask. I trail a hand up his chest feel the muscles under his shirt.
"Yes", he says.
"Then fuck me", I tell him.
He shakes his head, "no, this isn't what you want".
"How do you know what I want?", I ask, "why does even matter what I want?". He only stares at me with his sad pitying eyes. I hate how he looks at me like I'm some charity case. I want him to look at me like a woman.
"Are you afraid to touch me?", I ask. He doesn't answer.
"You waited for me right?", I ask, "you're a virgin right?".
"Stop", he says. My fingers trace the waistband of his jeans before slipping under them slightly.
"You don't have time be scared I'm plenty experienced for the both of us", I tell him.
He closes his eyes, "shut up".
"Why you don't like that I'm a whore?", He stays quiet, "or maybe you do?".
"Shut up", he says.
"Oh I'm right", I say, "do you touch yourself thinking of the things I did with all those other men? Can you show me?". He's shaking but, I ignore it.
"If you want I can tell you all about it-", his eyes fly open they're usual softeners hardened by his anger. He picks me up and slams me onto the bed behind us. My body bounces up slightly before he is on me.
"You are mine", he growls, "not anyone else's and certainly not those assholes".
"Prove it".
There is a sequel. It is not about Apex and Diana, Will and Hope, or Yanis and Cassie. It's called Twelve Steps Forward. If that's not what you want to read then don't read it. Please remember I don't get paid to write, I don't get any kind of compensation for this. This is a hobby for me. I appreciate the support but you are not entitled to my mind or my time.
To all the people that support my creativity, thank you. To all the people that critique my work thank you. You guys inspire me.
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Lay me Down to Sleep
Kurt AdamShe had lived a life that wasn't her own. Every decision was made for her. At the end of the day though, she was still the one with the blood on her hands. To have the weight of abuse on your back is miserable. Especially when you're falling in love...