The Nexus

Chapter 2

Hunger. Knawing and scratching at her from the inside. The only distraction is the searing pain that is coming from each belt lash that cuts her back. Her arms are tied above her head and she is naked from the waist up. There is a ringing in her head. Her mind is a blank and all she can focus on is that ringing. It's high pitch and with each lashing it gets a little louder. In her 11 year-old mind she realizes that the ringing is pushing the pain away, becoming one with it. Maybe she is about to faint, but if she concentrates real hard the ringing is like a high pitch scream in her head. The searing of the cuts become overwhelming, but the ringing is speaking to her. Repeating, repeating, the same screaming, "I'll kill you!!!" She knows the scream is directed at the man holding the belt. Repeating, repeating, "I'll kill you, I'll kill you!!" If she loses focus it would just go back to it's original ringing, so she listens carefully in between bouts of pain. After a while, the scream changes a little when it starts to repeat, "I'll kill you BOTH!" and she knows the other person it is talking about is the drug addled woman crouched in the corner watching her get beat.

She sat up in the bed like a bolt, her fists and arms in a defensive position. The man laying next to her rolled toward her and opened one eye. "You okay?" he asked.

It took her a split second to get her bearings, and she did not go with her instinct to punch the man in the face. She realized that she had been dreaming and relaxed a little. It was more of a memory rather than a dream; the memory of a defining moment in her life, but she couldn't get the whole memory to come back. "Sorry, I had a little nightmare."

The man lifted his arm to pat her on the back in a sympathetic gesture. How nice of him to pretend like he cares, she thought, and she watched him roll back over in the bed. He was handsome and hairy, just like she liked them. Built well with dark hair. His sole purpose was just to entertain her, and he had done well that night. Even if she was capable of love, this was someone she could never actually care for.

He was "one of the masses" she liked to call them in her mind; people who can't really function in this world. She noticed that these people sort of wandered aimlessly in life, causing one drama or another. They never had any real goals or purposes beyond the moment that they were in except to give in completely to their animalistic desires. She likened them to zombies, people who pretended to think and care about things, but in reality they didn't have much going on for themselves. In her observation these types of people were born, muddled through some sort of a free education, complained about everything (including their free education), procreated, worked (barely), got old-- and more and more mired in their idiotic justifications for their behaviors-- then died. Just like an amoeba or a virus. She couldn't even compare them to any sort of animal because she felt like animals were smarter than this high percentage of the human population.

She grabbed her shirt off the floor, sat down and slipped it on over her head.

He sat up, "Why do you always do that?" he asked.

She stared at him for a moment, his zombie eyes, and thought about her answer. "I have a busy day tomorrow," she said. It was much more simple of an explanation than, 'I think you are a waste of precious air on this planet.'

"You can stay here you know," he insisted.

A little chuckle came out of her as she thought about the fact that his mother was in the next room. "I don't think so," she said.

"Do you think you're too good for me?" he asked.

That was odd, she thought, maybe he was falling for her. It did happen a lot despite the fact that she usually chose her men based on the stereotypical definition of manwhore. Now that he seemed to be showing emotion she realized that she would have to end this pseudo-relationship.