Prison of Beauty

Friends with Benefits

It's been two days since my moment of weakness in front of the attractive rounder. The hunger pangs have decreased, I think it might have something to do with my stomach shrinking. I'm still having my periods though, so I'm not that malnourished. In fact, my last one ended just yesterday. I actually feel stronger now. Yeah, a bit less curves, but less weight if I ever get the opportunity to scale the wall. Yeah I know my flesh would burn if I tried and that there's basically no possible way for me to get out, but I want out. I want there to be a chance. Because giving up on it just isn't an option. So I keep myself busy, preparing for my escape even if it might not become possible in my lifetime.

My portions have increased in size for some reason. I won't question it and keep bringing him his food. I head to the abandoned animal shelter now, trying to stop myself from hoping to see him there. I tell myself that it's just the physical attraction, the piercing blue eyes framed by thick dark lashes and perfectly sculpted brows along with stubble shaved perfectly to enhance his chiseled jawline ... But it's something else too. When I broke down and had flashbacks of Rico, he was just there for me. Comforting me when I needed him, because he gets it. No questions asked.

I drop a tear and a drop of blood at the corner again, reminding myself of the pain humans inflict on each other and everything around them. I head over to the wall, where I see him leaning against the wall, as if he's waiting for me.

"You need to stop doing this. I appreciate it, but you're getting even skinnier and the whole reason you're doing this is because you have faith that I have some sort of moral compass. Now if that's true and I don't want to go have kids who I'll never see again because I'm determined to do the 'right' thing, then how do you think it makes me feel to be leeching off of your generosity and see your cheekbones draw in further and further every day?" he says, his arms crossed firmly across his broad chest.

"I'm doing this because I didn't have the chance to do it for somebody else who needed it. Think of it as my do-over; you're the one helping me regain my own moral compass," I retort.

His blue eyes bore holes in mine.

"Okay."

"Okay."

Without another word he takes the food from me and starts eating it. He saw what seeing him refuse it the other day did to me. I hate feeling this small, like a child whose parents are pretending not to find it while playing hide-and-seek. Not that that happens a lot around here, but I've read about it in some of the books some of the elders keep buried in their backyards.

I turn to leave, but he gently grips my arm.

"Stay," he pleads.

"Fine."

"I don't know any of my family. I know that's normal for boys here, but I see girls so close with their mothers, always having a place to come home to and ... I want that. More than anything. I don't want to create more boys like me, wandering from one house to the next, miserable knowing the fact that in order to survive they will have to condemn their own children to the same fate. I don't know why I think of them as 'my children'. Most rounders look at it like a job. They're detached. But I can't do that, I can't bring myself to," he confesses.

"But when you came to my house you had that smile and pickup line down perfectly, as if you'd done it a thousand times ..."

"Yeah, because I do it as little as possible. So when I am desperate enough for a meal I go to somebody who I am sure will be a good mother. And I need to get as much food out of that one because it needs to last awhile."

"Oh," I say. I guess that makes sense. I feel kinda bad for having misjudged him ...

"What's with the whole spitting blood on the ground thing?" he asks.

"It may seem silly, but I need something physical to remind me that this is wrong. The animal shelter reminds me that this used to be their habitat and we just took it all away without a second glance. I need a ritual, a reminder, even if it's literally just a drop, to help remind me that I'm not the only one having to make sacrifices. So I don't slip into the mindless acceptance like a lot of people have. My brother taught me the importance of  that . . ."

"It's funny. Sometimes I would give anything for that mindless acceptance ... "

"I can read," I admit after a couple moments of silence.

"What? Like the little black symbols on the white stuff kind of read?"

"Yeah. It's amazing what words can do. There's 26 different symbols, but depending on which order you assemble them in you can create millions of different messages, stories, lessons ... "

"Teach me."

"What?"

"To read. Teach me how to read. And write."

"Okay, this is the letter 'A'," I explain, drawing it in the dust next to the concrete path with my finger. He draws it and I tell him the different words that have the letter A in them. We get to letter C before I have to go home in order for my parents to not suspect anything.

~~~

I return to the shelter that night with lunch and dinner, and wait for him to come. I get lost in thoughts about what life would be like if I weren't trapped in here. I would have one of those things called a dog. And I would have a husband and a bunch of kids who would all learn how to read and write at school. They would grow up to have jobs like being a farmer or a veterinarian or a lawyer.

Warm, firm arms wrapping around my waist from behind tear me out of my thoughts, and I spin around to see two amused blue eyes staring into mine. As I open my mouth to ask how long he'd been standing there, his mouth meets mine and tingles spread from my mouth throughout my entire body. He sucks on my bottom lip before switching to the top one, then gently biting the bottom and drawing away.

My eyes remain shut, and I exhale shakily.

"I don't understand," I whisper, "I'm already giving you food ... what are you doing this for?"

"Raven ... this is what it's supposed to be like. Kissing because it's fun, because it feels right, because you like that person ... let's beat the system and get back what they've been taking from us," he responds, looking down at me with fierce determination radiating from the deep pools of his eyes.

In response I lean back in and let him wrap his arms around me while we continue exploring the pleasures of each other's mouths.