Castaway ۞

*9*

Jazmyn,

Please come out of your room. I miss you, Luke misses you(he keeps bringing you hot chocolate and subway). You need to eat sweetheart. I'm not sure what I said that morning, but I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you in any way. What do those words mean to you? The ones I said? Please, Jazmyn, I need you to come out. I'll do anything. I'll make you your favorite food? Jaz please tell me what I need to do. Just please come out and we can talk about it.

M x

5 days. 120 hours. 7,200 minutes. 432,000 seconds.

That's how long I waited. No food. Very little drink from the tap when he was out. My hip bones had started to peak through my skin, warping the skin to fit around them. My eyes looked sunken in, black rings surrounded them, like bruises. My hair, scraped up into a bun, the oil starting to accumulate at the roots. I needed a shower. I needed food. Mostly I needed him. I needed him to hold me, to tell me things would be ok. I wanted him close. I needed him close. But I couldn't. He was evil. Horrid. A malicious, immoral creature. Who took me from my safety and placed me into my weakness.

I ripped a piece of paper from my sketchbook and wrote on it a simple note.

Can I have a shower, please? J

I slid it under the door and knocked the frame 3 times. Something me and Grace would do. To us it meant "I love you" but for now I simply want him to see the note. I heard his footsteps quickly approach the door and a small sigh.

"Jazmyn, can I open the door?" "Yes"

I sounded small and weak. The door opened and I saw him. Hair shaggy, face unshaven. His eyes looked to match mine. He looked at me and I felt the tears leak from my eyes. In a moment he swiped into his arms and held me close to him. This was it. This is what I needed and longed for. Human touch. His touch.

I'm not sure how long we stayed like this. But it was enough to make me feel stable again. I looked up at him and him down at me. His eyes held me tighter than his arms.

"Jazmyn please never do that again, Jesus I thought you hated me and I didn't know what you would do. Fuck Jaz." I lift my hand and place it on his chin. The overgrown hair tickles my hand. His skin beneath is soft, fragile.

He is not horrid. Not malicious or immoral. He's no creature. He is a human, with feelings, wants and needs. Just like me.

"Can I have a shower?" I look at him. I don't want him to feel I have ruined this moment. I don't want to feel I've ruined it. I just want to feel clean again. I want to feel like myself. I want him to know me for who I truly am. Not this rude arrogant bitch. He nods and stands up, reaching for my hand.

My hand feels small in comparison and reminds me of dad. The way he would hold me. And Grace. One in each hand. He would joke and say he had 2 lovely ladies for his date. He would take us all, Grace mum and me, out on a Saturday night. We would go to restaurants and the cinema, one time even a water park that he had a friend who worked there. 9 pm and we were shooting out of water slides, and bobbing along the lazy river. Needless to say, we all got sick. So sick that the next week we had to spend or date night, in the house watching DVDs.

The bathroom was big. Too big. It made me feel small. The bathroom in my room Only had a toilet and sink. It felt tiny in comparison.

"How about a bath? You can relax in it for a bit and then I can wash your hair? I promise I won't touch you anywhere you don't want me too. Is that ok?" At first, I am disgusted by the thought, but I have so little energy I agree to his proposition.

His hands are cold on my skin, fingertips barely brushing against me. He pulls the jumper over my head and my leggings down my legs. My bra is unclasped and my panties fall to the floor. he takes my hand and walks me over to the bathtub. I step in feeling the warm water envelope my body, comforting me from the pain I had been in for 5 days. it felt nice that's for sure. I just felt weird having him watch me.

"I'll leave you to relax for a while, let me know when you want me to wash your hair"