"Breathe, sweetheart. You're okay. Mack and I won't let anyone touch you. I promise. May I come closer to you?" Um...
"No, thank you. Sorry, Z. I just d-don't really want to be touched right now. I don't want you to see me." Huh. As if he can't see me.
"No problem. Just take a few slow, deep breaths, okay?"
"Yes...."
Long silence. God, the room feels so heavy on me. I'm trying to breathe slowly, but the room feels more like a weight on my chest.
==========
"What are you feeling right now?"
"Well, Mack. I feel pretty grossed out, actually, and this silence is killing me. How do you think I'm feeling?"
"Do you remember anything else from the Clubhouse?"
"Should I?" Ooops. That sounded a little bitchy. "Sorry, Mack."
"It's fine. Do you remember anything else happening at the Clubhouse?"
"Um... not really." Keep breathing.
"Could you try hard for me?"
"I am! What do you want from me?!"
"I would like you to try to remember. I would like you to tell me what you remember. And then I want you to tell me how you felt at the time, and how you’re feeling now about it."
Feelings, feelings, FEELINGS! Jesus Christ! Shut up!
"Would you like an alphabetical list, Mack? Would that make you happy?"
"Would it make you happy to give me an alphabetical list?" Asshole.
"Yes, Dr. MacDonald... I believe it would."
"Then please, tell me your list." What?! What a total ASSHOLE!
"Fuck you, Mack! I'm not playing your game right now. Go fuck with someone else... Okay?"
"I'm not fucking with you. I would just like to know what else you remember about the Clubhouse."
"You want details?! You fucking pervert! You want to hear what I did with them?! Would that turn you on? Do you have a hard-on Mack? Yeah... I'm sure you do..." Pause. Breathe.
"How are you feeling right now?"
SNAP!
"Fucking horrible, Mack. Thanks for asking. I have all these feelings screaming in my body, and all these thoughts grossing me out. And you keep making me remember!"
"What is grossing you out?" Seriously?!
"Oh, I don't know, Mack. Remembering Mr. Salmons dick in my mouth gagging me, or Mr. Sheehan's hands bruising my hips as he slammed me against his cock. Or, actually, I remember a awesomely horrendous ass-fucking I took in the sauna by Mr. Philips, followed immediately by Mr. Williams. That was particularly painful, and I remember Peter thanking me for 'being such a good girl' afterward, as I crawled to the door because I couldn’t even stand up or walk when he was done with me..."
WHOOSH. All the air is just GONE! OH. MY. GOD! OH FUCK! Don't look. DON’T LOOK AT HIM!! Just close your eyes.
The silence in the room is deafening. I can't breathe... At. All. Take a breath! Inhale! Do it! But I can't. Nothing is happening.
Turning my head slightly, I see Z. He is still and expressionless. He looks like he's in a coma or something. Shit.
This is too much! I need to leave. Can I walk? Can I even get out of the bed? Can I please just LEAVE?!
Turning toward Mack, my mouth opens and I try to speak, but a sudden great, horror fills my gut. Mr. Williams. Oh. My. God! I have fucked Z and his father, Piggy Peter. That's it. I'm done. My mouth closes on a gasp.
Throwing myself to the opposite side of Mack and Z, I vomit... everywhere. Huge heaves of vomit, followed by wrenching gags of bile, followed by loud dry-heaves. The sheets, my gown, the floor... everything covered in my vomit.
I think Mack is beside me, holding me onto the side of the bed. I think I hear him talking to me. I think he’s aiding me. I think... but all I feel is Z's horror.
Oh god. There's more. More heaves. More noise. More everything. Will this ever end? Will I ever end?
==========
After forever it seems, I finally exhale. My stomach is burning, but now it’s with pain, not nausea. Pain is better. Pain, I'm comfortable with.
"What are you thinking about right now? Can you tell me?" Mack practically whispers beside me. Oh, I think I've been holding his hand this whole time. That's nice.
"Um, I love pain, because it can be measured. Just like time and numbers. Pain is either really bad, or not so much. Like a 'one to ten scale'. I can gauge anything on a one to ten scale. Pain is always measured, and it always feels less painful afterward. I just remind myself of that when I'm in pain. The memory of the pain is never as painful as the pain was. And I've never hit a 10 yet. There were a few 8.5's, and even a 9 once, but never a 10. Ten is unbearable pain. I bear pain. I can always bear pain. I can bear this pain."
"Are you in pain now?"
"Yes. Everything hurts in my body, probably from the vomiting. But my head hurts quite badly. My head is actually throbbing, I can feel it. But it’s my heart that’s killing me. May I have a little rest, Mack? Please?"
"Of course. Lie down and rest while I have the nurse issue more pain killers. I'll have someone clean this up and help redress you, as well. Would you like Z to stay with you, or would you like him to leave with me? We'll return as soon as you've rested. We will return to help you, I promise."
"Could I just be alone for a little while?"
"Of course. We'll be back shortly. Please try to rest."
When I hear Z at the door, I call out to Mack quietly. “Mack?” I whisper as he comes closer to me.
“Yes?”
“Please take care of Z.”
“Okay, I will. And I’ll be back soon to take care of you.”
“I don’t care about me. Just please take care for Z, okay?” And turning from him onto my side, I finally exhale all my pain and tension.
I couldn’t even look at Z as he left. Oh, what he must think of me. I can’t believe how humiliated I feel. It’s like a wash of disgusting humiliation is drowning me.
To think, I've slept with Z and had his father fuck my... It's just so disgusting, and twisted or something. Z must despise me now. Finally. I've been waiting for it to happen, and it finally has. I’m almost glad it’s here, so I no longer have to worry about what was always inevitable.
Once the door closes behind Mack, I close my eyes and desperately try to rest. I can’t believe I remembered the Country Club. Where the hell has that memory been? I had totally forgotten what it was like for me there. No wonder I've refused each and every offer or invitation to attend some party, fundraiser, or function at the Club for years. No wonder I hate golf. Giggle.
When my reverie is interrupted by a nurse, I stop thinking. She asks a few generic questions, writes some notes, checks me over, helps to redress me again, and finally, thankfully, hands me 2 little pills.
Five minutes later; sleep is almost here, I can feel it. I feel the in between... I’m slowly falling, falling...
I'm done.
CHAPTER 24
Waking, I feel absolutely atrocious. Everything hurts. Everything is pressing together. My head is pounding in rhythm with my face and chest. My stomach feels like I’ve pulled all the muscles. My hand and legs are cramped. My other hand is on fire. If possible, I swear my hair hurts right now.
Waking, I'm in agony. What the hell is wrong with my face? It's all tight and rigid. Reaching up, I feel a mask or something around my jaw. What the hell is this? Silence of the lambs, much?
"Don't panic. It comes right off." Flinch. "You were grinding your teeth so badly; Mack put a mask over your jaw to prevent movement. Would you like me to help you remove it?"
"No, thank you..." I mumble.
Pulling at a strap near my right cheek, the mask instantly falls away to the left. Good. Wow. My jaw is killing me. Opening my mouth slowly hurts like a bitch. This is definitely a solid 4 on my pain scale.
I don't want to open my eyes yet. I just don't want to see Z's face of disgust. Even though I love being around him- right now, I would give anything for him to leave. I just can't face him.
"Can you op
en your eyes for me, sweetheart?" Sweetheart? Still?
"Yes, but I still have a bad headache. May I keep them closed for now?"
"Can you please open your eyes for me, for just a minute? Please?"
Opening for Z, my lids begin blinking rapidly. Argh. Flinch. I hadn't realized he was right beside me looking down.
"Please don't be afraid of me, sweetheart. I would never hurt you, I promise." What?!
"I know."
"Do you?"
"Of course. You haven't so far, and I'm sure you're leaving soon, so..."
"I am NOT leaving soon!" Oh! Another flinch followed by Z breathing heavily.
"Fuck, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you. I'm just so fucked up right now. Listen to me, please. Look, I don't know what to say. I guess I’m just so sorry, so fucking sorry that my father ever hurt you. I can't believe it, and yet I totally believe it. I believe he did those things to you... And I AM SO SORRY. I want to kill him, and I can't... the fucker is already dead."
"Z..."
"No. Please, let me finish. I will never be able to make this right for you, and I can't make it right. But I need you to know, that I didn't know what he did to you. I knew he was a pig, I saw pictures once..."
"Of ME?!"
"Oh, fuck no! Some other girl, a young brunette. When I asked him about the pictures, he was so cavalier about it, so dismissive, that I became disgusted by him. After that, we had very little relationship left. My parents died maybe 2 years later. And yes, I mourned for him, but I didn't know the extent of his depravity. But if I had known..."
"It’s okay, Z. I'm sure I deserved..."
"If you say you deserved what he did to you, I'll lose it. This is So Fucked Up. I wanted to help you because I care for you. Now, I have to care for you because my fucking father hurt you. I am just so messed up over all this. I NEED to make it right for you, somehow."
"Z, I'm really sorry about all this..."
"Sweetheart, if you apologize one more time, I'll..." Flinch.
"Z! That's enough. That sounded like a threat, and she doesn't need that added weight or pressure to her situation right now. Stop."
"Shit. I didn't mean to sound like that... I was just trying to say how sorry I am. I don't want you frightened of me. I just meant that I, ah, fuck!" Z is shaking, badly.
God, I want to touch him. I would do anything to make him happy again. I wish I had never met him. I wish I could just walk away and never see him again. I want him to be happy again. My heart aches for him. My heart breaks for him.
"Oh, sweetheart... Please don't cry. I wasn't trying to make you upset. And I could NEVER be angry with you. I just wanted to apologize for my father having any part in what happened to you. I don't know how to make you believe me. I don't know how to make this go away for you. I always know what to do, about anything, about everything, but I don't know this time. I can't make this go away, and I'm so sorry about that."
I have no words to give him. I don’t know what to say, even if I could speak. There is just nothing but silence.
"Z, you didn't do this. You had no part in this. So you need to leave her alone, so she can process her own memories. She needs comfort right now, but you are adding to her upset. There is a time for apologies, if you feel the need to make them... later."
"You're right, Mack. I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't mean to make any of this about me. We can talk about this later. Please forgive me."
"There is nothing to forgive. I just wish you weren't unhappy right now. I don't like it when you’re unhappy. It hurts my heart."
"I AM sorry for that. That wasn't my intention. What can I do to make your heart NOT hurt?" Don't say it! DON’T SAY IT!
"I think you should leave, Z. I don't really want you here anymore. I don't blame you for anything at all, I promise. But I just don't want you to hear anymore of all this... stuff."
Wow. Z actually took a step back from my bed. He looks really hurt. Shit. I was trying to prevent him from feeling any more hurt. Looking between Mack and myself, Z seems to collect himself after another moment.
"Um... Are you sure, sweetheart? I'll just stay in the corner like I did this morning. I'm okay now."
"Yes, I'm sure. I just want to talk to Mack alone for a while. It's not you, I promise. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings." Fix this! Please.
"You didn't hurt my feelings. Its fine, love. Whatever you want, remember? I'll just go home for a little while, freshen up, and if you decide you want to talk to me, or you need or want me to come back, just call my cell. I can be back here in an hour or so. It's whatever you need, sweetheart. I know that."
"Thank you Z, for everything. And I'm really sorry for all this drama. It just never seems to end with me, does it?" I give him a weak smile, which he doesn't return. Ouch, that hurt.
"I'll see you later. And Mack, please call me if she needs anything."
"Of course. We'll be fine."
Looking toward me once more, Z touches my shin over the sheet, smiles at me, nods once, and makes his way to the door. Wait! Shit! I don't want him to go. Too late.
Once the door closes, I lose all control. Great lunging sobs tear from my chest. My head hurts so badly, I hold my head with my hands, ripping my bandaged hand free of the sling. Holding my head tightly seems to help. Grasping and pulling at my hair seems to help, as long as don't pull the hair too close to the bandage on my skull.
I just can't stop crying. The pain is shocking again. I know he will return if I ask, but I'm not going to ask. He shouldn't be here anymore. He gave me Mack, and he should be free of all my drama now. I had really wanted to keep him... But now, I just want him free...
I know there can never be a 'Z and I', so I have to let him go. I won’t see him ever again. I can't. It hurts him too much. And it hurts me too much. I had him for a little while and it was amazing, so I’ll just keep my memories, and I'll move forward without him in my life.
God, I wish I could stop crying. Please, stop crying. And almost immediately my sobs taper off to little hiccups of tears, and breaths of pain. This time, I really, truly am heartbroken. But it's good. It’s as it should be.
I wish I had said a memorable, heart-felt goodbye to Z, but I didn't. And now I can't. Seeing him again, even once more, will kill me. He is free now. And I want him free. I want him free of… me.
“Goodbye, Z…
I think I love you.”
==========
When I wake up, everything still hurts. Christ. Will my head ever feel the same again? I need to get well, so I can get out of here. I need to walk. I need to change my clothes. I need to leave. Where do I go? Where am I safe from all this? What do I do?
"How are you? Would you like more pain medication?" Oh, Mack's still here.
"Yes, please. I'm sorry, but my headache is so distracting."
"It's not a problem. You've had major surgery AND much stress, so you're supposed to be on pain killers. Let me just speak with the nurse. I'll be right back."
"Okay. Thank you."
When Mack leaves, I wonder if this is what it feels like to be really, truly alone. This is a first in a long time I think. Actually, it’s a first, period. I've never been alone in my life. I've never lived alone. I've never bought my own groceries. I've never had my own place. I've never been by myself. I've never been myself...
"What are you thinking about?" Mack asks while holding out the little cup of pills.
"Um... about being alone."
"You're not alone. I'm here, and Z can be back in..." I have to cut him off.
"That's not what I meant. I mean, I was thinking about being alone in the world. I've never been alone, Mack. I lived with my parents, even in college, and then I married and moved into the house with Marcus. The house he purchased without me- the house I help pay for but didn't choose. It's weird, but other than one love seat, and a matching chair in my sunroom, I have chosen nothing in my life. Oh, actually, that’s NOT true... sorry. I choose to wear black clothing, and I
choose to keep my hair long, though my mother hates it. But that's it...
“…I didn't pick my friends growing up; my mother did. So I just stop having friends. I didn't even pick which college I went to, my father did. I didn't choose to marry Marcus, my parents did. Marcus didn't even ask me. He just worked it out with my parents, prenups and all, and that was it. I was married on the date they said, with the guests they chose, in the dress my mother designed...
“... I have never been alone, Mack. Alone scares me, but it might be okay for me to try. I think I want to try being alone. Is that okay?" Oops. Did it again. Giggle. "I realize I just asked you permission to allow me permission over my life. Pretty absurd, huh?" Idiot!
"No, not absurd. If you have never had control over your life, taking control is going to be hard, and sometimes confusing. But you don't need to ask permission to do so, from me or from anyone else for that matter. Not even from Z. You choose what you want from now on. You can do that. I want to help you do that."
"Thank you. But I don't really know what to do." What a loser I am. Honestly.
"Why are you smiling right now?"
"I was just thinking about what a loser I am, and somehow that makes me smile. Kind of silly actually, but if I can call myself something in my head, and it's not a dirty word, I seem to smile." What?!
"Why is that? Do you often think of yourself as a 'dirty' word?"
"Yes, I think so. I don't know, it's weird ‘cause I hear myself as dirty words, and it's sometimes my voice but sometimes it's other people's voices speaking. I can't always tell who is actually saying it to me." That made sense, right?
"You have other voices in your head? Do they always talk to you?"
"No! Not like that. Not like I'm a Schizo or anything. It's like the memory of them saying bad names to me, and my memories of saying bad names to myself get confused or something. So, I'm not sure if it was actually me, or them who said it."