All Too Well - Erik Menendez

Make Me Love It [18+]

Beverly Hills. CA. 1988.

Eriks POV:

My emotions have processed into numbness. Empty numbness. In a way, I feel more at peace like this. The tears have dried, my breathing has steadied. I feel safer being away from home.

Craigs room is dark; the light from the television flashing is the only thing that brightens the room. His body is warm; it's comforting. I've spent my time convincing myself that anyone but Craig is next to me.
I somehow believe as we lay here, when I feel his hand stroke the side of my face, it's Whispers hand that's playing along my jaw, staring at me with those dark eyes.

When I feel his lips kiss the top of my head, I imagine it's Lyles soft kiss pressing against me. I hear him telling me he loves me. I believe it, I feel it.

My soft thoughts become interrupted.
"You awake, Shep?" Craig asks softly.
A murmur is my only response.

"You want to stay with me tonight?"

"I have practice in the morning so I can't, you know how my dad gets."

"Come around in the next couple of days, apart from Sunday. I'm with Beth that day."

Abruptly, his finger hooks underneath my chin, lifting my face up. He presses his lips against mine. I breathe in sharply, eyes wide as I watch his eyelashes fall onto his cheeks.
His finger separates my lips when I don't allow him automatic access, but he makes his way with my mouth when his tongue enters.
Battling and nipping at my own.

My stomach hurts. It doesn't escape my mind about Beth. His girlfriend. Her face etched in horror if she knew what had happened sunk into my mind. It's a detail that has always bothered me about Craig and I's... situation.

This whole situation feels horrible. I didn't imagine myself here. Again. I always end up back here, with Craig. Like this.

Earlier events replay in my mind. The taste itching in my mouth, the urge to vomit needing to be pushed down and down, forcing myself to try disintegrate it. The guilt. It's drowning me.

~

By the time I get home that night, the house is eerily quiet. Thankfully the house is asleep. But now as I lay in bed alone, my mind is a tornado and the feeling of Craig inside my mouth replays in my mind, the regret, the guilt, the disgust, whilst all these feelings are too familiar in regards to my father, now they're accompanied by another person.

I hate it. I hate it. I hate it.

After tempered sobs and striking myself in the face as punishment, I walk over to the telephone situated on my desk. I dial the number of the only person who can save me. I am completely broken and I'm moments away from making friends with my mothers hefty pill cabinet.

"Hello?" The phone connects, Lyles voice hastily booms from the other end.

"Lyle." I sob.

"Erik, buddy. Are you okay? It's late." He's concerned, I hear every bit of it mustering in his voice.

"I need you."
I'm pathetic, but it's all I can get out.

"Why? Whats happened?"

I cant tell him, I cant tell him.

"Erik, talk to me. I'm here for you. Has something happened?" I can tell from his voice he is now wide awake.

"Dad's just given me hell and I'm feeling really fucking bad. Really bad Lyle and I just n-need you here." Full sobs release me after this, I attempt to stifle them by biting down on my lip.
But it doesn't work all that well.