The Great Wattpad Write-off

Prompt #2

You're not good enough! The voices tell me when I woke up...the same voices I had heard all my life. The voice of my step-father moments before his fists spoke to me. The voice of my ex-wife who then turned my son against me, soon his voice echoed in my head as well...sometimes.

   I'm a failure, a failure that is successful in most aspects of his life. Yet there is no success that could erase the voices for every time I screwed up. Why do you even try? The voices dance into my head like ballerinas doing pirouettes atop my skull.

   I look in the mirror and ask myself that same question, joining the chorus of voices, as I reach into the medicine cabinet and swallow a Xanax, one of the few things that silenced them.

I'm too old to start relationships, too old for a new career, too old to try for another family. Loser!! No one wants to be friends with you. Not even that girl from Snapchat!! It's true, the moment I told her my age, she thought I was a weird creep.

  "SHUT UP!!!" I scream at my reflection and punch the mirror, cracking my face into dozens of jagged lines. My hand drips comforting crimson tears into the porcelain sink. The blood silenced them, it always did. They knew they had gone too far, and without me they had no voice to be heard.

  "I'm going to get a girlfriend today!" I tell the voices that doubt me. Cackles of laughter answer my decision. Who the fuck would want you?   My step-father demands to know. You failed in two marriages, remember? Ex-wife two reminds me. Your own son wants nothing to do with you! My son was quiet, giving me the silent treatment no doubt, he rarely spoke, but he didn't deny what she said either.

   It was Saturday night...I can do this I tell my struggling self. I dress carefully, trying not to look too desperate. My last girlfriend only lasted six months. The voices made it impossible to keep her any longer. "I can do this! I can do this," I said calmly, wrapping my hand in bandages. I dab a shot of cologne on and pat my receding brown hair flat, and leave the voices behind.

   I drive to one of the many clubs in Chicago and have to go around twice before finding a parking spot a block away. I lock my truck and walk in the brisk fall air, towards the music and lights. My self-confidence has gotten me this far. I walk towards the front of the club and hear the sound of someone throwing up by the dumpster. Ahhh, someone was having a good time. Then I see her, a girl perhaps twenty three or twenty four in a short, strapless black dress, on her knees,  chucking up whatever sweet concoction she had downed.

  "Hey!! Are you okay?" I whisper not wanting to embarrass her by bringing attention to her current, unladylike condition.

  "Do you have any wa-wattteer?" She slurs out.

  "Uh, no, not with me. I think there might be some in my truck. Do you want me to get maybe a friend of yours from the club to help you?" I ask.

   She shook her short, brown hair no. "My boyfriend don't give a fuck about me! I need some water, give me some water damn it!"

  "Can you make it to my truck? It's a block away?"

   She holds her petite hand out and allows me to help her up. She stumbles against me and I can smell her sweet aroma...lavender. "Don't you no funny ideas pal," she mumbles against my ear.

   We make it to my truck, me holding her, and her walking diagonally in her red, high heel shoes. I open the cab door and help her up, then I reach up front for the bottle of water and go to hand it to her as she slumps onto the seat and passes out, snoring lightly.

   Her short dress had risen up even further, making me blush at her exposure, but like a gentleman I tug it back down. I couldn't leave her like this, yet she had no phone and no purse to figure out where she lived or to call anyone for her. She was too drunk to be left alone, the only thing that made sense in my mind was to take her home.

   I drive back home, looking at her in the rear view mirror periodically, she never wakes up. Getting her down the stairs presents a challenge, one I barely complete. Out of breath, I dump her on the bed and cover her up. Your pathetic!! Really? A drunk girl? Ex-wife number two asks in a sarcastic tone.

   "No, I didn't pick up a drunk girl! I mean, I did, but not the way you mean. I found her like this!" I state in an irritating voice.

   Your going to prison, again! You kidnapped her! My step-father predicts snidely.

  "No, I'm not. She had no I .D. And no phone, I couldn't let her stay out in the cold! Screw you!!" I talk back to him, a rarity, always afraid of what he would do to me. Once he cracked my head open for eating the last taco from the fridge.

   I reach over and make her as comfortable as I can and sit back, waiting for her to wake up. I didn't want her to wake up alone and freak out. You think your her hero? That she's gonna wake up and think your her knight in shining armor? Ex-wife one asks. I reach into my pocket and pull out a razor and cut my stomach beneath my shirt, self-harming over the many cicatrices I had over my body, so they will shut up. The cerise droplets stain the cement floor beneath my feet and I wait patiently.

    As morning creeps through the basement windows, rays of sun capture the spider webs crisscrossing the wooden beams. You can't ignore us forever! We're hungry! Your son is hungry! "Oh, now he's my son?" With a sigh I get up and go to the darkened side of the room and turn on the light. Four separate cages come into view and they all shield their eyes from the fluorescent lights blinding them. I pull out a loaf of stale bread from a cupboard and throw slices into their cages, then bottles of water.

   My step-father greedily gobbles his bread down down his porcine mouth. Ex-wife one just stares at me with hatred. Nothing new there, she would eat after I left, not wanting to give me the satisfaction of seeing her feed. Ex-wife two stares at me with tears in her green eyes, "please let us go! We're all sorry for the pain we caused." Ahhh, she at least apologizes every day, such a sweet girl. My son, lay in his bed, silent, yesterdays bread covered in the maggots from his decayed body. Still silent as ever.

  "Now I don't want to hear a sound from any of you when she wakes up! Got it?" I threaten, knowing they were never silent for long. Fucking freak! My step-father said, even as his lips utters not a sound. "I'm not a freak, you fucking bastard," I scream, with spittle flying in his direction.

  "No one thinks your a freak. I didn't say anything. Your not well son, let me help you."

  "I'm not your son! You want to help me? With your fists or belt? Huh?"

   He just looks at me as I hear a moan from the bed. I give them all one last threatening look and kneel beside her. Doe-brown eyes flutter open, and look at me before closing again. "It's okay, your safe"

Her eyes open again and she looks at me strangely and tries to speak through her ball-gag, then she tries to remove it with her shackled hands. I smile reassuringly at her, while blood shot eyes take in the basement, the cages, and back to me.

   I pull out a box and open it, showing her a diamond ring, with dried blood speckles on it, from my last failed engagement. "I know we just met, but I loved you from the moment I saw you and you need someone to take care of you. Will you marry me?" I ask taking the tears in her eyes as a yes and slide the ring onto her finger and kiss her wet cheeks. "We're all going to be a family again. I'm going to make you the happiest woman alive!" I promise as I lay next to her, seeing the jealousy in my exes eyes.

  "This should have been you!" I said to them. You wish! Ex-wife one said snobbishly in my head...