Collaborated Damage

Chapter Seven

Now I'm wearing this smile that I don't believe in, inside I feel like screaming. ~Unknown.

My long fingers brushed down her pale stomach. It was hallow and covered in goosebumps. They skimmed over her sharp ribs and hips, my lips pressing down onto hers. Her arms wrapped around my neck, pulling me closer, yanking at my hair. We've never gone further than this, probably never will.

I pulled my hands back from underneath her shirt and caressed her arms. Helen's long hair tangled beneath her, spreading out with her jerky movements. She was small, everything about her was small. Her nose, her bones, her body. Her breath hitched as I kissed down her jaw and neck. 

Helen's hands cautiously ran up and down my arms, as if I was the one who was going to break. I crushed her tighter to my chest, unable to believe how lucky I was. My hands weaved through her silky hair and hugged her tightly. We lay there, side by side, on her bed. Our breaths coming out as ragged rhythms. 

 We fell into a gentle sleep, my arms around her, her legs weaved through mine.

I let out a yawn. The shower was running, loud and pounding, but I could here distinct coughing. She was forcing herself to vomit. How long has this been going on? I got up off her bedroom floor and pressed my ear against the door. She said she was going to take a shower. 

After a while the gagging turned into soft hums in the shower. How could she do this to herself? She had never seemed like that kind of girl around me. She was a picky eater, but she always ate a lot around me. I shuddered at the thought of her self mutation. What else did she do that I didn't know of?

With a sudden flash of anger I scribbled down a quick note telling her that I had to leave, and left it on her bed. I stormed out of her house into the early morning air. Her parents were gone on a second honeymoon, and Helen had invited me over to keep her company. I sat down on the curb of the street, not wanting to leave her but not wanting to stay.

A sigh escaped my lips, I ran my hands through my dark hair. I made a vow, I'd protect her; from herself and others. Still, I couldn't stay, the new thoughts of her hurting herself made me sick to my stomach. 

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It was chilly outside and the Annette's pink slippers were killing my feet. I kept a steady pace and ignored the onlookers stares. I tired to sing, I tried to hum, I even tried tapping a beat, but none of it would work. It was failing, my heart wasn't into it. I was lost. I was lost. I was fucking lost.

An arm was tossed over my shoulder. "'Ey man, where've ya been?"

I quickly turned around, ready to fight. But it was only Nate. "Hey, Nate. How's Jan?"

Nate (Nathaniel) Jones was a short man with shocks of red hair. He was thin, much like Helen, but ate a shit ton of cake. He smoked and drank, but always showed up at work on time to support his dying sister, Jan. Jan looked much like her brother, small and ginger. They both shared freckle covered skin.

"Jan isn't doin' so well, man. I worry. My job ain't enough to support us." He sighed, shaking his head. "I keep lookin' for better jobs, but I'm stuck in a fuckin' rut."

I set my hand on his shoulder. "Wanna walk with me? I got nowhere to be."

Nate knew about my past and I knew about his. He knew about my Helen; my band, my fame, my problems, just like I knew about his drugs; his sweet sister, his deaf ear, and his anxiety. He didn't care, much like James, and I didn't judge. I actually met him through James in high school. Now that I think back to it, I think that he set us up, seeing that we needed each other.