MADMAN'S DEMISE

26

"You should've let me take care of you."

All dressed up and dry again, we sat in Brandon's bed, side by side with our backs leaned against the cold white wall. The scent of smoke was gone. The air in the room fresh and clean again, no longer damp and smelling of sweat and body fluids. Our fingers were intertwined, holding on for dear life and refusing to let go. None of us wanted these two session hours to be over, because when they were, we knew we had to get ready to attend the courthouse again and continue suffering through the further needless trial.

"You did take care of me." I looked to my side, smiled at Brandon as he tilted his head to look back at me.

"Not the way I wanted to." He explained, locking umber eyes with me.

"Well, I loved it." I looked away, focused my eyes on our tied hands instead as I resumed our previous moment of affection.

"So did I..." Brandon mumbled beside me as he gently squeezed my hand in assurance.

"I promise you'll get to be the one in charge next time." I quietly taunted, looking back at him again only to show a face of playfulness. But Brandon closed his eyes and grabbed his lip between his teeth.

"Beverly..." He breathed. Sadness coming through his air. A strike pierced my chest, realising what was about to happen.

"No... no... you said... you said you needed me!" I exclaimed, panic rising inside me. I couldn't believe it. I thought I succeeded. I brought forward his madness. He told me he needed me. He confessed, agreed with me. He couldn't turn his back on me now. That would make him a betrayer. A liar. He was no such thing.

Brandon grabbed his hair with his fist, tugged as he shook his head in concern.

"I made a promise..." He cautioned, disappointment in his mournful tone, knowing he'd said things to me in a feral state of mind. A state of mind I forced forward. A state of mind I knew I could use and manipulate. I just didn't think he would get back into sanity so soon. I thought he'd owe up to me being right about him needing me.

"Fuck the promise!" I shrieked, my mouth surprising me. I was so desperate my impulses were out of control now. I was completely helpless. Defeated at last. Once and for all. There was nothing left that I could do to make him change his mind. He was a man of his word, and albeit this was about a promise he made to himself only, it didn't matter. He wouldn't break a promise even to himself.

"Beverly listen to me!" His voice turned coarse and determined. He could sense my insides boiling. Grabbing my shoulders, he seated himself opposed to me in the bed and took all my attention as he looked into my tear-filled eyes.

"I told you! The only reason I'm doing this is for your goddamn sake. I do need you, I do! That is the truth. But you... you deserve so much more... so much more of a life than this."

It didn't matter to me how many times he'd repeat this was a matter of how much he cared for me. It didn't matter how much a matter of freedom it was. Because he was my freedom. But he couldn't understand that. He didn't want to understand that.

"That's not up to you to settle, Brandon!" Starting to become increasingly impatient, a feeling of wanting to give up reached me.

"You're too caught up you can't comprehend it yourself Beverly! That's why I'm doing it for you!" He was slowly turning impatient himself. His eyelids hanging low and his voice turning colder.

"I don't need you to do it for me!"

Tears rolled and rolled, dripping to the white sheets and leaving wet stains between our bodies.

"But you do! And you'll thank me later!" He hissed, sounding like the careless, bad, arrogant Brandon I hadn't met in months. He was turning against me. Trying to make me want to leave myself by acting cold-hearted. But I wouldn't fall for his trick. I wouldn't let his rudeness oppress me.

"I'll never thank you for this." I bit back at him.

"Okay, Beverly... that's okay." He blinked, insinuating he wanted this discussion to be over.

Not yet.
There was still a little fight left in me.

"You... you got me here, after what you'd done... you took me into your room, brought out a handmade knife, Brandon, and threatened you'd hurt me if I ever left you again and now..."

"Now you're the one breaking up with me, forcing me to leave although I don't want to," I stumbled on my words. Anger growing stronger and spreading like wildfire in my veins. He was a hypocrite.

"You don't love me, Brandon... this is not about love. You just... you don't do this to people you love!"

"I do love you, Beverly," He shook his head, sighing, disappointment in his voice as well as his expression. He wanted me to understand him just the way I wanted him to understand me.

"To me it doesn't matter what you believe. But I do love you, more than I've ever loved anyone," He paused again, caught my eyes, slightly calming me with his hypnosis.

"And in time you will understand... I know you will." He stroked my cheek, his thumb circling my blazing skin.

"Be free for me. Own your freedom, Beverly, do it for me... please. You don't want to waste it." Now he was calm again, speaking with compassion. I sobbed quietly, allowing Brandon's thumb to wipe away the tears still running down my cheeks.

But I did want to waste it. The freedom he was so desperately badgering about. The family - the house, the children, the marriage - kind of freedom. I wanted to waste that because there was another freedom I was in heavier need of, the one only he could give me. The freedom of being sober, healthy, stable...

But he wanted else. He had made up his mind. I had said everything I could possibly come up with, and I had failed. It was over now.

Looking up at Brandon once more, I leaned into his hand only to enjoy his touch one last time. I lingered in the moment, his hand warm and safe. My heart ached, beating slower and wanting to stop. And so I finally took a step back. Away from him. A distance that would remain from now on.

"I love you Brandon. You'll always be my only freedom." I lastly whispered before turning my back at the one I thought I'd spend the rest of my life with.

Stepping out the doorway, I turned my head one last time, looking at the unstrung, despondent man seated on the bed, left, and lonely.

"I'll see you in the courtroom."