Cross-legged on a twin-sized mattress in a spare room with a sloped ceiling. Window porthole to the whisps of dusk fading away like dust. A vanity mirror on a beautiful oak dresser, fixed up with brass rivets and fittings sitting just a few feet from the pastel-blue comforter on the bed that was tucked into the arc shape of the room. A kind of stuffy warmness keeping me company. This was what I had for now. For the time.
"Knock knock."
The door came open slowly and in popped a fluffy-haired blonde with a pretty tan torso and night pants that hung off his hips just enough to make all the women he ever knew or met swoon if they ever saw him like this. His eyes were glittering like they usually do, and when he sat by me on the bed, putting his arm over my shoulders, I instantly began to cry. I wanted to be held so tightly, but I felt like I didn't deserve it.
"Brad," I croaked. He rubbed my shoulder and pulled loose hair strands out of the earrings in my ears.
"Shh Shh Shh now. Don't say anything. It'll be okay babe, I promise."
You would never suspect Brad was gay. He comes from a family of four [other] brothers-Marrick, Keegan, Ajax, and Alias- with himself being born before Ajax and Alias. All of his siblings are either active or honorably discharged Military personnel, with Ajax and Alias now both being cops in our county.
They all look alike as well-all just like variations of Paul Walker. Talk about one smoking set of brothers!
Each of the boys had a troubled background with their mom being a horrible mother, which turned Brad away from women at a young age. He finally came out when he was twenty, and, while the acceptance wasn't immediate, his family now fully understands who he is. And they even adore their son's boyfriend Alexi, who gingerly came in as well and sat on my other side
"Darling, don't worry about it. Everything will be okay." Alexi said, wiping my tear off my face. He had dark brown curly hair with Caribbean skin-tan and olive-like- and big, bold hazel eyes. When the two stand together, it is a sight to make women scream at just how beautiful they are together.
"I just don't know what to do." I sighed and fell back on the bed.
"Get some rest Koda. Sleep on this. And besides, you look tired and worn-out." Brad told me. He even sounds like Paul Walker with a slight tinge of pitch change on some of his words.
"If you need anything, you let us know. Our home is yours okay?"
I looked into Alexi's eyes and caught his warm half-smile. I had very little strength to do the same to him.
Brad jerked his head as a sign for them two to exit when I closed my eyes. The two depressions on either side if my thighs lifted and eventually the door shut quietly. I was once again alone and all by myself. Just me and my thoughts.
I didn't want to think anymore. I didn't want to dwell. I indeed was tired, was exhausted really, but still got that nag of 'you don't deserve to sleep!' tackling my subconscious. Come soon though, the nag all together vanished
and so did I.
Four Days Later
"Vodka Soda doll."
I began fixing an older gentleman's order numbly. His name was Mr. Mall; a regular that was coming in years before me. Mr. Mall was actually my first customer and orders the same thing every time he comes in-which is every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday.
"Here you go." I flipped my cleaning towel and proceeded to dry the glasses below the bar that were left to drip-dry after being washed.
Taking a sip and regarding me with his blue eyes that have seen forty-something years of pure hell, I could tell Mr. Mall was noticing something amiss with me.
"You look a little... crossed. A lot actually. What's got you so forlorn?"
I shook my head. Mr. Mall was like a confidant to me; I could tell him anything.
"Is it that Zach guy?"
Tears came to my eyes at the very mention of his name. Not being able to fight it, my breath hitched and steaming salt ran over my face. Over my stitching that I had almost completely forgotten about.
Mr. Mall shook his head and apologized.
"No, it's okay." I said smoothly.
Terry turned his head a little to look partially at the floor behind him. Things were a bit awkward for him after making me cry, but I patted his shoulder and gave a meek smile.
*
I stood in the reflection of an all new mirror...of an all new setting...with an all new person staring back at me. Her hair was tied back, highlighting the roundness of her face and the placement if her bare eyes. Her body-dressed in a sports bra and gym shorts-was skinny and not as fit as she once looked. She looked a little unhealthy when you look at her like this.
Her expression was raw but blank...a pure sign of overwhelming depression.
Chronic.
Severe.
Her tattooed arm was now blanketed with an all new, glossy play if colors that rolled in thick drops down her bicep. On the opposite arm, the same scene played out...just worse. There were more rolling, liquified rubies coming in slow, plump droplets, and more clogging and forming screens over her skin.
Through the blood you could see the openings-the red mouths opened in her flesh, the cuts implemented on purpose. She needed to feel more pain in order to accomplish her 'punishment'. She still stood firm with her new-found motto: 'You DESERVE this.'
With a small huff, she let her reflection alone and traveled back to the toilet to hock up the rest of what she ate that day, which was only a piece of bread and a tomato from the sandwhich Brad brought her for lunch. She couldn't bring herself to eat it-even if her last meal was the day she had to say goodbye to.......
She had to force those thoughts out. Drown them away by forcing her finger down her throat. Gawd, her gag reflex was horrible; her finger had to be all the way back there for her to even get a dry-heave. Oh well, the more you suffer, the better you'll be.
She was loosing her mind, and in the process slowly torturing herself because she needed to. Her brain was fried from racing all the time. Silence was now something she just simply could not have because it let her think. It let her mind wander back to where her heart still wants to be. Begs to be with all the barely palpitating little bits shattered inside her anatomy.
She didn't want to feel anymore, didn't want to BE anymore, because what was she without him? Without Zach?
It hurts too much.
With a strangled yelp as clear liquid funneled its way into the toilet in Brad and Alexi's household, the pain began to ease her away. If she could just get EVERYTHING up and cut a little more, maybe she'd pass out and she could dream.
Dream of the days before she made a mistake
That is slowly killing me.
