Norman had already left to the airport a few hours ago when I went to have a warm shower. I already felt dirty. As I got in the shower cabin and closed the door and saw the white tiles, felt the steamy warmth in that little space, memories came. Kisses, moans, touches, sins.
How and how many times did I have sex with Sean in his bathroom, under the hot water?! Some would say that too many times. I say: as much as it was neccesary. Which means all the times he came to pick me up from the institute.
On every Tuesday, each week Sean came and brought me to Heaven. Or at least to another Hell. Sometimes we couldn't wait til we got back to his house and I already gave him head in the car while he was driving or had sex in the backyard of his house. Things changed when one day, about five months later the docs said I was ready to leave the institute. I ate again, I looked a bit healthier and there was no relapsing. I did all because I didn't want to risk my freedom with Sean. Not for Sean. For freedom.
The problem with being released from rehab was that it meant I had to go back to New York, with Norman. The feelings, the rage I felt on that first night didn't vanish. It came along with me the whole time and because I didn't have to be with Norman, somehow he became an enemy in my mind. So when Norman and Mingus came to see me in the institute, I ignored him and only cared about Mingus. Even if he noticed my adversary feelings, said nothing.
I had to do something, to prevent my releasing. I knew I would lose my possibility of the free days for a while and I wouldn't have visitors as well. But I knew Sean would understand. And I didn't want to see Norman at all. And I tried not to think about Ming's feelings. I just wanted freedom that much that I couldn't see I was addicted to captivity.
It didn't take much to get drugs again, I just had to be smart. I called a friend who had a friend in L.A. and... The rest is history. I knew I had to hit it hard to make sure they won't say "it was alright" and let me get away with it. So on the way back to rehab, I had some white fairydust in the car when Sean fueled the car up. Not using drugs for a while made the stuff hit me like a train, I lost my consciousness and when I woke up, I was alone in my room. And for the next few months it was just like that...
After washing my hair, I left the shower cabin and since I was all alone in the house, I didn't bother myself to get a towel. I combed my hair and left it as it was, letting it dry by the air. I looked in the mirror and couldn't not see the difference between the Reira who had just left rehab and the Reira I stood right there. No tired and anguished look on my face, my bones were not that visible anymore and by lifting heavy tools up all day long at the shooting, I gained some real muscles I hadn't had before. I was kind of proud of myself. But I couldn't let the thought go that I still missed to be the lil' godess of mischief. I wanted to feel the excitement to go into the wrong direction.
I heard my phone ringing in the back pocket of my jeans shorts I left on the floor of the bathroom and I already knew it was Norman, it was time for him to get on the plane. He always said goodbye. I stared at the screen of my phone, at the name on it: Normie. He hated if I called him like that so of course I used that as a contact name. And the picture. It was only him. I took the picture at the shooting a few weeks earlier, at our usual lunch break, away from everyone else in the zombie preparing room. He wasn't looking into the camera of the phone. He was looking at me, right into my eyes and smiled. Those eyes were full of caring and appreciation. I remembered of the moment when Norman came to see me after the relapse, I remembered of his eyes... Then they were full of sadness and disappointment. I never wanted to see those eyes again.
But it didn't work like that. I couldn't go to the wrong direction without hurting him. But I couldn't only be a good girl without having some trouble. I just had to. I wiped off those teardrops I let fell from my eyes and picked up the phone.
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Save Me [A Norman Reedus fanfiction - Part 1 - COMPLETED]
FanfictionI still can remember my very first sentence I said to him. 'F*** you, you f***ing bastard!' Not the best beginning, I know. Biggest lesson of life: never talk when you are upset, you only have first impression once. I was sixteen, he was... I don't...