Save Me
＊＊＊
as the days go by things go back to normal.
well, sort of.
he never left my side once we moved back to my house. at his parents house, he just left me alone in the basement and only came down to take care of me. but now, he bathes me, helps me change my clothes, carries me around when my ankle is too swollen. it was very sweet of him to take care of me.
the only difference now is the chain around my ankle, it's at least longer now so i can go in every room in the house. although i was still limping, and i'm not sure if my ankle will ever heal properly, i can at least walk on my own sometimes. when he leaves to get groceries or visits his parents he locks me in the bathroom, he still doesn't trust me yet and i don't know why. i've been good.
he hasn't kissed me in forever, besides on my head every now and then. he won't hold me, just puts his arm around me or let's me lay on him. i missed it, more than i missed being outside or hanging out with my friends. even thought every time he got close to me i flinched and couldn't stop my legs from shaking with fear. i missed him.
i lost track of the days. they were all the same. but that was better than the cycle of pain. i'd run out of questions to ask, i hardly spoke unless he was talking to me. but i still cuddled up against his side and held onto his hand while he cooked.
spring break was over, and he allowed me to use my laptop to do class work as long as he was next to me watching. he had emailed my professors for me and switched me to online classes, saying that i was too traumatized to return to school after the death of my closest friends. luckily we were close to graduating and finals were over so it wasn't too big of a deal. there was only a month left of my fourth year anyways. i wonder if he'll let me work in a hospital one day.
i gently run my fingers over the bandages on my neck, looking at myself in the mirror. sometimes i wish i hadn't survived, it reminded me that there was no escape. yet for some reason i still had a will to keep living. i still think of Stan telling me to move on like everyone else in my dream. this life was easy, stress free. Richie stopped being so angry after awhile and was back to being kind, the Richie that i idolized so much in my head.
i quickly realized that escaping meant kill or be killed. i don't want to die, and i don't want to hurt anyone.
"babe, your spacing out again."
i turn around to look at him, the chain clinking on the tiled floor, "sorry, i was just looking at my bandage."
"you can probably take it off soon, it's been a couple of weeks."
weeks?
"i hope so, it's itchy under there."
he kisses my forehead and holds my face between his hands, "you know i had to do that, right?"
i nod, "you were just protecting me."
he smiles and nods, "that's right." he leads me by my hand to the kitchen where our dinner sits on the island. he did at least get a little better at cooking. we sat on the stools and ate as he talked about going to the cafe i use to work at with his parents earlier this morning. they had a little memorial in the corner for Stan, Richie would take flowers to it when he would go pick up our coffees.
"when can i go do stuff with you?" i ask quietly
i expect him to give me the silent treatment and walk away like he always does but he didn't, "soon maybe, i do miss taking you on dates."
i smile hopefully, "me too!" i place my hand over his, "remember when we went to the botanical garden? that was a lot of fun."
he squeezes my hand back, "we can go back again someday."
