A Wanted Submissive

30

I didn't want to understand. I just didn't. I didn't care why he did what he did or how he changed personalities like clothes and was somehow the exact same person. He was probably a psychopath.

I didn't care. None of it mattered.

This man had taken me to the breaking point of feeling every emotion there was to feel. To the point where laying in bed with his sleeping head rested on my chest, I completely unable to sleep, I had no clue what was keeping me up.

There was a plethora of things that could make it hard for me to sleep at night but I couldn't even bring myself to contemplate one. I just layed there blankly staring at the ceiling.

Barely able to blink, let alone drift off to sleep. The weight of Gabriel's body on top of mine weirdly gave me a sense of pressure that was pushing me downward and comforting me. Centring me.

I studied each section of ceiling one by one over and over as though I were compelled to do so. Yet, the activity was so mind numbing it actually felt like punishment.

Then my alarm went off. I grabbed my phone a switched it off almost immediately. I was met with a text message, " hope you're okay. Text me back"

The message was from Journey. It felt weird to remember that just yesterday I had been kicked out of her house. Though, in truth that might have been a good thing.

The realisation that I could have gotten her killed sent a cool shiver down my spine as more guilt washed over me. I felt like such a selfish person.

Gabriel's dad knocked at the door at just that moment, he said, "school kids." As though nothing had changed enough to make the tone of his voice shift from anything but cheerful and weirdly a little harmlessly goofy.

With that Gabriel was awoken though I hadn't noticed until Gabriel was grabbing my phone from out my hand. He read the message.

Something stormy krept behind his eyes and I found myself wanting to get away from him quickly. He said just one word, "who."

"I-," sudden fear for his reaction made me forget English but I tried desperately to remember it before things escalated, "I went to h-her house... When I - I left."

Swiftly the storm disappeared from his eyes and it occurred to me that Journey was a fairly unisex name.

The thought made me both tired and angery. The ricochet between all these emotions so quickly was exhausting. Gabriel's head went up from my chest as he shifted himself to be at eye level with me.

He gently touched my cheek and said, very casually, "if you ever do something like that again I'll..."

A thoughtful expression came onto his face as if he were deciding on a punishment that would fit the crime, "kill everyone you've ever known."

He kissed me briefly on my lips and got up from bed to go shower. After he left I held myself tightly in a ball and began to cry. I couldn't keep doing this.

                                |§|

These days school was barely a blip on my radar, especially with Gabriel taking me to work with him more and more frequently. Not to mention the impossible tasks he frequently assigned me kept getting more and more impossible.

However, the days I could be at school where appropriated. At least I tried to appreciate them behind the haze of exhaustion and stress that now followed me like a stench I couldn't wash of.

It wafted off me and seemingly repelled all. I sat down at the desk Stephie and I shared in biology class. She and I had been... off lately, but even still she was one of the few constants in my life from every tragedy, I refused to believe this one would run her off.

I kept telling myself I would try harder with her and show her I appreciated how much she worried but truthfully every missed call from her on my phone was met with stiff anxiety.

What could I possibly say to her? Was usually the first thing that ran through my mind before I came up with multiple bazar retellings if the crazy things that now seem to be normal life to me.

The insecurity at her reaction made me decide not to call back and to ignore the call if ever I did catch it on time. Then anxiety would build up two fold at my decision.

I began to wonder if this call would be the last call. Heartache would usually mix with that anxiety as I thought of her giving up on me. As I rightfully deserved.

To think of it was like watching the last bridge back to some semblance of self crumble and collapse before my very eyes. Even to sit in this seat made me anxious.

What if today she decided to sit somewhere else?

The chair scrapped beside me and I calmed a little. I moved to look at Stephie and found Journey instead. She said, "I brought you something."

I was too surprised to talk. The last time we'd seen each other I'd nearly gotten her killed. I still grappled with the guilt of my selfish decision making in that respect.

Yet, here she was smiling and speaking to me cheerfully. I simply stared at her, not knowing what to say. She pulled a lunchbox out of her bag and placed it before me.

So, I looked at that instead of her still feeling unsure. She spoke again, "open it."

So I did. It held blueberry pancakes and I smiled to myself realising this was what I'd taken for breakfast that morning at her house.

I heard her voice again as the almost foreign urge to laugh still held me, "it's so stupid but it bugs me that my brother shooed you away before you got to eat."

At this I quickly said, "Journey I -"

But she interrupted,"It's fine. Really. My door is always open."

She squeezed my hand as she spoke and so much relief washed over me.

Then Stephie's voice pierced through the interaction, "and this seat is taken."

Her tone was harsh and very unlike her easy going, sarcastic self. Awkwardly Journey apologized and moved to her own seat.

I looked up at Stephie. When our eyes met she stormed out of the classroom even though it was just starting. I followed behind her quickly not even bothering to gather my stuff.