Crack Attack: A Collection of One-Shots and Other Disturbing Shit

Proofless - Chapter 11

            Ungh. Ungh. Ungh. Ungh. Ungh. Ungh. Ungh. Ungh. Ungh. Ungh. Oooooow. I hiss in pain while he shudders and digs his fingernails into my hips to hold me in place as he grinds against me erratically. As if I have anywhere to go. I stare up at the headboard and wait for him to finally go back to his side of the bed so that I can spend the rest of the day trying to sit up. I don't remember what it used to feel like when I wasn't raw, ripped, and bruised. At least when he does this at night, I get a few hours of unconsciousness to recover before I have to try to act like a normal human being... and it's twice as bad when he did it the night before, too. Half of the time, he doesn't even need pills anymore; I think he's starting to enjoy this little arrangement just a little too much.

"There we go! Doesn't that feel better, honey?" Preston pulls it out and climbs off wordlessly, then he crawls back to his spot so that she can put his handcuffs back on. He doesn't put up much of a fight against her now, and I can't tell if I'm more relieved or horrified that he unquestioningly does her bidding. I lifelessly sink facedown on the lumpy mattress and it still feels like it is stuck inside me. Thick drops start spilling out, smearing all over my skin on both my front and back when I finally manage to move enough to pull my shorts back up. I know he is looking at me but I don't want to meet his eyes. Her keys are jingling from down by our feet and she is finally getting ready to leave, the excitement in her voice raising the pitch to a squeal, "It won't be much longer now 'til you two won't be able to do that as much anymore, isn't that right, Robbie? Pretty soon we're gonna have to make room for the baby. Oh, she's gonna be so cute!" I am completely dumbfounded as she disappears behind me in a flurry of snapping locks.

She expects us to have a baby together?

How the fuck...?

What is she going to do to me if I don't somehow magically get pregnant?

I lay there with my face in the pillow, trying to let it sink in. I feel a hand brushing my hair to the side and I look over at him with my eyebrows raised. Why the hell is he acting like this now? Did he ever have a sex ed class? Does he not know how this works, either?

"Preston, just stop. I know you feel guilty and shit, but that isn't helping." It comes out louder and harsher than I intended it to, and he replies barely above a whisper.

"Sorry. I... just care about you, ya know? We're in this big giant ugly mess together and now we're married and... yeah." I lower my voice below his so that she won't hear us on her camera microphones.

"You do realize that the second we get out of here, we won't be married anymore, right? I am filing the paperwork as soon as I file the fucking police report." I look back over at him and he actually looks hurt, like I had just slapped his greedy dick away in the heat of the moment. Is she brainwashing him with those ED pills? "What? Neither of us want this, man. Let's be real."

"But we're already married, Rob. We can't just... we took vows. Those mean something. You can't just up and erase vows you took before God."

"Oh, for christ's sake! Preston! Marriage is nothing but a scribble on a magic piece of paper to keep people from fucking other people, and you know what? It doesn't even work. They do it anyway. I know you don't like hearing this and it goes against what your faith tells you to do, but I don't believe in god like you do. I tried it and it didn't work out. Her parroting some gibberish out of an outdated storybook isn't enough to keep me tied up here forever in her god damned basement from hell." His jaw clenches and he sounds like he is ready to get into a real fight this time. At least we're finally getting somewhere, instead of being stuck in this silent, mopey shit of his.

"I'm not sayin' we hafta stay down here. I wanna leave, too, like right now. But we said the Oath. That's serious, dude. Why do you think I didn't wanna say it? You're my husband-wife-person and I mean... I kinda love you?"

"I'm sorry, but it isn't my kind of thing, bro. I love you, too, but not like this." He nods and turns his head to stare at the wall behind the dresser. Why is he pissed at me now? He can't possibly want to stay married to me. "This isn't just about you, Preston. This is about both of us and I really, seriously don't want this. You don't have to sign anything if you don't want to; I'll get a lawyer and I can do it all on my end through the courts. She has to have fucked up something somewhere along the line. It will all be on me and you can blame my being a godless heathen if it makes you feel better. We can both go our own happy ways without you breaking any divine commandments." Still stony silence. "I know getting a divorce violates some contract that you swore you wouldn't break, but you can't impose your beliefs on me. I want to be happy after I get out of here. And let's be honest: neither of us is ready for marriage. We would kill each other." He doesn't acknowledge me. He just plays with yesterday's water bottle cap like a complete child.

This is exactly why I don't want to be married to him.

---

"You can either do it in the cup or I'll put it in the cup for you," she threatens as she holds a brand new plastic-wrapped catheter up for me to see. I tried to explain to her that I don't have the parts necessary to get pregnant, but all it managed to do was get me tasered and dragged in here to take a piss test. I slide it out, taking a second to check the two black scabs from her needle-happy terror fest last week before she has a chance to buzz at me again. I fill up her creepy ass cup and put it on the counter before I wash my hands and slink back to my pillowy ditch with the chain jangling across my shoulders. That spot looks more and more like a grave every day. "That's a good boy! Now let's go see what we've got bakin' in oven!" She steps back into the bathroom to do a test that could only be negative, unless she bought it from the dollar store. My heart is pounding and my life is flashing before my eyes. What do I do?

"What is she doing?" Preston whispers so that she can't hear us, and I just shake my head, telling him to wait. I glance at my watch and watch three minutes pass in silence. Finally, she starts rustling around in the bathroom and she comes back with everything thrown in the Walmart bag she had brought it down in. She sets it on the floor by the door and she comes over and leans down right in my face, her eyes strangely empty and her face expressionless. I feel like I am going to piss myself.

"I know what you're doing, Robbie. And it's not gonna work. From now on, you only get showers on Sundays and Thursdays, do you understand? No more washing it out. You need it in you to make babies for him. You leave it alone." She pulls out her phone again, standing in horrible, unbreakable silence as her eyes read something on the screen. "Mommy World says I might have to give you belly injections if you don't get a positive soon. Do you want that?" She waits until I shake my head, then she nods. "I didn't think so. We'll try again after dinner when Preston takes his pills and in the morning when he wakes up. If he's feeling up to it, we might do it again when I get home tomorrow... We'll have to see. But you leave it alone, Robbie. I mean it. It's your job to obey and service your husband." Her grumbling finally stops and she picks up the bag of trash and she leaves, my head still swirling in panic. I know Preston is waiting for some kind of half-understood explanation, but we have all day for that. I need to find a way out of this problem before she guts me to find out why I'm not getting knocked up from his twice-daily implants.

There is only one way out.

We have to get out of here before she loses any more of the remaining shards of her mind.

"Preston?"

"Hmmm?"

"We have to get out of here. Tomorrow. As soon as she leaves, we have to get out of here or pretty soon, I won't be around to help you." He glances up at the cameras and he nods, settling in next to me to stare longingly over at the worn-out Lego box still sitting on the dresser. All we can do is sit here and play word games and argue about what will or won't happen between us when we get out of here.

Today is going to last forever: knowing what is coming tonight for me and what we have to do tomorrow.

Today might be the last day that I'm allowed to leave the bed at all.