Prologue.
"Shut up already! Just shut up!"
This time, I squinted and lowered my head before him. He held my arm, lifting it high, then shifted my position, turning me sideways to face him, and... in a series of sharp, forceful strikes, slapped my buttocks with his hand.
It felt as if he was taking out all the things he couldn't express in any other way. Trying to show me what was churning inside him — words couldn't capture it, and no other method seemed to work. Intimacy didn't help either. He failed at everything.
He wasn't angry at me. He was furious with himself.
A paralyzing fear stifled any sound I could have made. I stayed silent, gasping, shuddering each time his hand returned. I winced each time, bracing for the moment he might change his tactics. Touch me differently.
I didn't know how, but I had a gut feeling — he knew every way there was.
His rage subsided, ending as abruptly as it had taken hold of him. Still clutching my wrist, he pushed me against the nearest wall — the one by the bed.
But even that wasn't my final destination. He shifted me again, placing me in the corner, facing away from him.
"Stop looking at me... don't look at me with that stupid face of yours!" he spat, his voice growing more unstable by the second. "You'll stand there until you stop doing that." He paused, standing still. "And if you don't stop, I'll yank you by the hair. Understood?"
Then, he resumed pacing the room, but I didn't dare turn around. My body burned with fear and the lingering feel of his hands on me — like I had a fever, my skin crawling with goosebumps. It was such an odd contradiction that I knew something was wrong with my body.
But I stayed silent. I stood and kept listening. To his heavy breathing. And then, despite it, Matthew spoke even louder:
"It's all your fault. I feel so out of place. And I've felt this way my whole life. Because of you too." He paused again. "I either get a saucer, just as useless as you, something I can barely use. Or most of the time, I get a huge plate. Too big. Hideous. And I hate it — I don't eat that much. So what do I do? Live in this helpless misery until I die?"
I had no clue what Matthew's philosophical musings meant. His metaphors didn't make sense to me, and my head... it started spinning. I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't just keep standing. I collapsed to the floor, not caring, almost falling. Still staring at the wall, too afraid to turn around.
1. Rules of Acquaintance.
It was raining. September had just begun, but the weather felt as if a typhoon had come along with the fall — how else could I explain the wind gust that snapped my umbrella? September used to be my favorite month of the year.
"My dear one, what is it I've done?" I muttered aloud to September, as if it were listening.
I wasn't far from home, but I was already soaked to the bone and knew that I'd probably end up sick.
"Hey, girl, take a flyer!" I heard a guy's voice next to me.
I rarely turned down such offers, but now wasn't the best moment. I was focused on avoiding puddles rather than looking out for sales. Still, I took the flyers, quickly thanked him, and started running towards my house.
Despite it being evening, no one was home. I wasn't surprised — my mom had gone to visit my aunt for two weeks, and my dad, being a police officer, was often away at night.
I had just turned eighteen, old enough not to be scared of silly things. In fact, I'd never been afraid of being alone, even as a child. But our house, located right at the edge of a forest on the outskirts of the city, could feel eerie sometimes, especially when you heard the howls of animals. I tried not to think it was a bear. As a kid, that's exactly how they'd scare me.
YOU ARE READING
Shut Your Eyes, Shut Your Mouth
General FictionHe possessed a dangerous mindset and an unpredictable nature, with deceptively attractive features that revealed nothing about him. These traits did nothing but confuse and mislead those who were oblivious to his inner world. But I knew almost every...