Birth From The Waist

Chapter 10

I am awoken by a loud noise, a slamming sound. I get up slowly using my arms for support; I look towards the door of the bedroom to find him walking into the room. He looks at me in a sly manner and I turn my face. Things in my situation seemed different, for some reason I wasn’t afraid nor was I fearful. I was anxious, stressed of what was going to happen, would I ever leave this place? If I agreed, he would let me free but it meant an eternity with him. If I escaped however, he would come after me, he knew where I lived, and my area; so there was no hiding from him unless I turned him in. Did I want that? No. I didn’t want to turn him in, I couldn’t, I despise him but I didn’t hate him, and after all he’d done to me, there was something there that kept me attached to him, I didn’t know what it was.

I felt the bed on my right side dip, he sat on the bed silent for a moment. I looked at him sitting up, he moved his right hand to my face, my body tensed and my breathing harsher I immediately moved away from him, after last night, it left me traumatised demonstrating what other things he can do. His was expressionless, then the sadness was clearly shown, his immaculate face, his eyes staring right through me, his creased forehead and his muscular and oversized arms tensing as he had grip of his shirt.

“Please don’t be afraid Danny, please. I don’t want you to get scared of me, I just want you for me. That’s all. You look at me as if I killed someone you know, hurt you, did something wrong. I didn’t do anything wrong,” he states sharing his opinion.

“Didn’t do anything wrong”, I say warily. “There’s nothing you’ve done right, nothing. What do you call this now? What do you call last night at the party, huh? You wanted me to come with you and I said no, you attacked me and took me by force; you even use to threaten me. I thought that you and I were going to work out, but you kept calling and texting and following me to the point that you drove me crazy. And the one thing that freaked me out was that you had people follow me, your “contacts”. You were so domineering and possessive that you didn’t live my life normally those few months. Why? Why all this?”

He looks down and then back up at me, watching me carefully. “I’ve told you what you need to hear. You and a couple of people only know about my secret, one of them will be visiting us soon,” he says. A worried look forms on my face.

“I use to like you way before you knew my secret, that you already know. You basically know everything. The only reason I use to text you constantly was that I was always with my phone waiting for a text from you or waiting for a reply, I’m not like my mates who check their phone every half-hour and reply, they got especially suspicious when I was stressed and waiting for you, lucky I covered up with a girl story. I have no one, I told you a bit about my family and that it. I feel lonely and you’re the one for me, that’s all. I can’t explain my feelings for you, when I don’t see you I wonder what you’re doing even though you’re in the next room; I come in here and see you and my heart beats faster and faster.”

I look at him puzzled. Who thought like a guy like him can ever be like this.

“I know nothing about you, nothing to about your history, nothing about your future, your plans, and your life. You don’t know anything about me,” I tell him looking him directly in the eye.

“I know everything about you, I know what time you sleep, or that you constantly eat macaroni and cheese, that you barely listen during class, those Facebook messages between you and that dick John,” he blurts out.

I look at him with my mouth open, confused, surprised and angry. These emotions were a toxic mixture. I was speechless, there was nothing I can say, I knew he was watching me, but I didn’t know the degree of it. “I can’t believe you were watching me, what next, you’re going to say it was ‘contacts’ that were following me and looking through my trash”. A smile forms on his face. “Are fucking serious,” I yell. “Shut your mouth don’t scream at me like that”, he growls intimidating me.

I look at him throwing a death glare towards his direction. “You clearly don’t have any manners do you, well I think you need to be taught a lesson,” he tells me.

“What”, I say dryly looking at him in a disgusted manner.

“From now on you’re going to speak to me how normal people speak to another, you’re going to show me respect, I am way older than you mate, and offcourse way stronger. If you dare do anything bad I’ll crush you with this hand, and you know what, there’s no need for pressure, just one punch and you’ll be gone”, he threatens.

I look at him expressionless, slowly moving my head away from his direction to face the door opposite the bed. I feel daring, “whatever faggot”.

Instantly I regret what I had said, there was no reaction from him, I knew I had gotten myself into a predicament; my heart began to beat faster, each thud louder than the previous beat, my eye anxiously scanning the room, looking for an exit. He was serious and I could tell that he was furious, I admit, he was going to break me. He carefully places the tray of what I assumed was breakfast on the bedsitter next to him. In despair, I formulate a plan to escape, hoping the door was open. Just as he begin to turn to face me I bolt out of the bed and begin to run towards the door only to be dragged back by my right arm, shit, I was still attached to the bed. He takes the opportunity to pull me with one arm powerfully to him still on the bed, halting my opportunity to escape. I shift my elbow backwards abruptly meeting his nose, he groans in pain, his face in his hands, “ahhh you fucking cunt, I’m going to fuck you up”. I take the opportunity to undo the loose fabric that was around my hand, I untie it quickly surprised he hasn’t reacted yet. I immediately jump off the bed and rush towards the bed like a mad woman escaping a tranquilizer. I reach the door and push the door handle down – locked!

I don’t know how, but I noticed the a set of keys sitting idly on the dressing table, I pick them up and attempt a trial and error method on the two keys. I take no notice of him or what his doing but it was awfully quiet, I tried the first key it was successful. I attempt to turn the door handle, I feel his hand tightly around my neck, caressing it like nothing was wrong. He grips it tighter and tighter, “Mmmm... thought you could run, I’ve been behind you the whole time, this just shows how slow you are,” I gulp, scared shitless. He continues to caress my neck, I feel uncomfortable. He pulls my neck backwards with his intense grip then slams my right temple into the door, the door clinging back into place, the pain bearable. He begins to tusk, “this is what happens for swearing at me, and this is what’s going to happen to you because you attacked me. He turns me around to face him and shoves me against the door my back making contact with the rough hard surface, I cry in pain.

I look at him taking notice of the blood trickling down his nose, his face an absolute nightmare for anyone wanting to go up against him. I look down as his eyes glare at me widely, he brings his right arm to my face clasping tightly with his fingers forcing me look at him, his left hand pinning me into the door. “Please leave me”, I say sobbing. “Shut the fuck the up, you don’t say anything”, he bellows. He backs away, his voice full of profanities, he rages on, pulling his hair turning around, screaming, “Shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up”, his voice the epitome of all shrieks. He was furious, but not with me. His hands covered his face, did he regret what he did? By his body language he was fighting himself he was facing his inner demons, he had his problems and sadly I topped the list. He trudges towards me, anger in his eyes, I look down fearful of what he might do, awaiting his right fist that he lifted into the air, I feel the momentum of the punch. I feel it as it vibrates against the door, I open my eyes awaiting a world of pain to be met bitterly by the harsh reality of nothingness. I felt nothing; his hand was in the door having made the surface splinter, his fist sat in the door. I look up at him, his head down and his left arm on the other side of me leaning against the door, he was crying, a sign for help or emotional frustration, I couldn’t believe it, his tears dropped heavily onto the carpeted floor as he sniffled loudly. I just stare at him unaware of the situation or what to do; my humanity seems to know a respond. I was going to regret this. I lifted my hand and placed it on his right soldier feeling his tensed muscles, I rub my hand their warmly comforting him, he leans in and places his entire bodyweight on me collapsing into hug. He moves his face in the nook of my neck breathing loudly his emotions overbearing and overwhelming. I look over his shoulder and contemplate thinking. He needs help I decide, and like he said, he had know one, those people he called his friends were nowhere to be seen in these kinds of situations. I was going to help him, support him and maybe earn my freedom in the process without causing harm to myself. I continue the hug, carpe diem, my frame inconspicuous to his larger body.