The Devil Holds Him

Chapter 2

The car eventually came to a halt, the engine turning off and the shaking slowed down. Thank fuck– my mind felt so heavy. "C'mon, get up," I heard Mikey say as I attempted to sit up, my clothing sticking to the leather interior. "Think I'm going to lay here," I say as I land back on my face, feeling darkness slowly start to consume me once again.

"Nope," Mikey says as he pulls me up, helping me steady myself against the moving ground. "You're disgusting, dude," he says as he wipes his hands on the back of my t-shirt. I ignored his comment, fighting the fact that the world was spinning again. I look around, my eyes barely managing to open.

"Where the fuck are we?" I say as I slowly take in what seems to be a trailer court. "My place," he muttered and began to pull me along with him. "I can just sleep in the car," I suggested as I took my time up the steps. He frowned at my comment and unlocked his front door, all but pushing me inside. I stumble, looking around. "Looks... looks real nice in here, Mike," I say, smiling sluggishly.

He didn't say anything to me and walked into the room to the right of the front door. I take in the surroundings, noticing how oddly clean it was. "I remember," I start as he walks back in and we meet eyes, "I don't remember what I remember now."

Mikey rolls his eyes and shoves some clothes into my hands, "Bathroom is in the hallway on the right. Do you need help?" "I'm drunk, not disabled," I roll my eyes, "You just want to see me naked." I give a half-assed wink and lean onto the wall. "It's not landing right now. Go shower," he says sternly and I grimace.

I sluggishly walk towards the hallway and open the door on the right, placing the clothes on the sink. I undress, occasionally finding myself falling against the wall but managing to stay quiet just in case Mikey was going to sleep. At some point I had turned the water on to the shower but didn't remember doing so. Piling my clothes into the floor, I opened up the curtain and got in– placing my head straight under the water.

"What the fuck," I heard a voice behind me shout and I jumped into the wall, shampoo bottles falling loudly around me. I roughly pulled the shower curtain towards me while trying to see through the water that ran straight ahead of my vision.

"I'm showering," I say quickly, feeling as if I was in some fucking drunken fever dream. "I'm fucking showerin'. There's soap in my eyes. Hang on," the voice yelled, "Wait. Get the fuck outta here."

I jumped out of the shower and hit my foot on the tub as I did, "Goddamn it!" I yell in pain and barely catch myself on the toilet.

"What happened?" I hear him yell from the shower as I grab a towel from the closet, "I fucking slipped." I wrap the towel around my waist, the bathroom floor flooded at this point. Mikey was going to shoot me in both of my kneecaps.

"I'm really sorry," I spoke up again over the sound of the water hitting the shower floor. The water stops and I see a hand raise above the shower rod,

"Towel?" "Oh," I say and hand him the one that sat on top of the back of the toilet, "Here." I hear him drying himself off as I stand there, unsure of what to do with myself. "Are you going to get out?" He calls out. "Get out of where?" I ask and back against the door. "The fucking bathroom, dude. Who are you? What're you doing here?" "I'm Frank," I responded, closing my eyes as my stomach started to turn again.

I hear the curtain start to rustle and I speak again, "You're not Mikey. He's out there." "Keep your eyes closed," his voice was light like a feather and I automatically started to open them. I hear wet footsteps, feel a hand over my eyes, and hear his voice again, "I said to keep your eyes closed. What are you doing here?"

"Mikey picked me up. I couldn't make it home," I murmur, quickly accepting that I couldn't see– too tired to put up a fight. "You're swaying," he mutters, grabbing onto my shoulder with his other hand still over my eyes.