She Woke

He Spoke

    Samuel squirmed as he told the story, as if he were uncomfortable not only with recalling this specific part of the past, but he also seemed uncomfortable in his own skin. Natalie glanced toward the lamp again, wanting to turn it on, but knowing she needed to let him finish speaking in the comfort of the darkness. Her stomach was churning with her own memory of that night, and she was beginning to feel antsy. She had no idea what had happened at the end of her part of the story, she hadn't heard anything from anyone they knew mutually. All Natalie knew was what the police had told her after everything, and if she were to believe the police, then Samuel shouldn't be here at all. Her imagination was running in circles around her head, and she had to calm herself in order to let Samuel finish his story.

     “I thought you were going to hit me before I even told you what I had done. You surprised me, though. You just walked over, sat down rather heavily on the lid of the toilet seat, and looked up at me. Your eyes had lost that angry glint, and you looked defeated. It was such a sudden change of emotion that it caught me off guard. I wasn't sure how to react to you in the moment. I wanted to make you happy, or angry, or even sad. Anything to change that utterly beaten look you gave me. So I told you I had been running away, that I was being chased. I told you how I for some reason couldn't remember why I was running, but I knew I had fucked up. I'd fucked up real bad.

    'I think they drugged me, Nat.” I tried to explain to you, 'I think that's why I can't remember why I was running. They...they drugged me, and I must have done something while I was high.'

     “You gave me a look like you had heard a thousand and one better lies than that in your life, and this one wasn't fooling anyone.

    'Samuel, you took the drugs yourself, there's no use in lying about that. I've known about your problem for longer than you could imagine. Goddamnit, I should have done something when I found out!' you slammed your small, balled up fist against the counter so hard I thought you might actually break it. You have always been such a calm woman, but you held so much power inside of you that it terrified me, and that wasn't just the drugs in my system. You were the eye of a storm, always calm, but ready to destroy everything in your path in a second's notice if you needed to.

    'what did you take, Samuel? Did you steal from them?'

     “It worried me a lot that you seemed to know even a little bit about my world. I couldn't tell you what I had taken; not if I was being honest. My night had become a blurry daze in my mind. I tried to describe it to you, but I knew I would fail before I even started.

    'I...I'm not sure what I took, Nat. I walked into The Warehouse-you remember the one? You found me there that time? A month or two ago?'

    'It was two weeks ago, Sam.' you sighed, reached over, and turned the heat up on the water for me. I was sitting in the bathtub now, the water still running over me. 'I remember The Warehouse. I thought they got shut down? I overheard you on the phone saying that you were going to have to find another place to shop. I was hoping you would try to stop using after that, but I guess I knew that was just wishful thinking.' you were so disappointed in me, Natalie. I saw it and I felt it, but I don't know if I cared yet. I want to say that it affected me and made me want to change, but I was so used to it already, I don't think you made any difference at that point.”

     Natalie looked down, this story was too familiar. Too sad, too troubling, too upsetting. A tear ran down her cheek for the second time that night.

     Samuel noticed the tear on her face, wanting with everything in him to reach out and smooth it away, but he knew he couldn't. He needed to finish this, and touching her would make that impossible. So he continued, “I was quiet for a minute, contemplating. Then I went on with my story, 'well...' I wasn't sure what to say to you. You always had that way of making me get quiet and not want to speak anymore, but I knew I had to finish the story. I had to tell you before they figured out I was in your house. I knew that any minute we would hear a knocking or a crash and they would be after us both, and we hadn't exactly covered my tracks, what with the blood and water all over your kitchen.