"Sorry for the outfit... But I couldn't put on pants with this stupid tube sticking out of my snatch. See!" And spreading my legs wide, I hope everyone understands I'm not mental. I had to wear my beautiful gown, or I’d still be stuck in the ugly hospital gown.
"There Mack! Now you can see the damage. See. It's pretty gross, but my hole still works. Wanna try?" Ooops. Another giggle.
"Stop this now. You’re not doing this again." Mack says as he tries to take my arm. The nurses grab my arms, and the guy seems to pull my legs down the bed, all at once. NO! NOT AGAIN! FUCK!
"STOP!! PLEASE DON’T FUCK ME! PLEASE!!"
I know I'm screaming and fighting. I know my one leg got loose and I kicked the guy hard. I know my arm got loose and I hit the nurse to my left. I know it, but they still hold on. In one last desperate attempt, I break free and get Mack's face. Punching and scratching as hard as I can, I know I connect with his face! Yes!
Ouch! What did he do to my arm? What did Mack do? Fight! Fight more!
"You PROMISED! You promised you would never hurt me! You’re a fucking liar Mack. Just like them! You said you wouldn't hurt me, AND YOU ARE!! STOP HURTING ME!!"
Screaming at the top of my lungs…I can hardly breathe. Don't look. Keep screaming! Maybe someone will hear me? Maybe someone will help? Maybe this will be over soon? Maybe someone will hear me screaming and I won't be invisible anymore?
Opening my eyes, I look around and there's... Z.
Oh my GOD! Whoosh. I just stop and there’s nothing but silence in the room. Z came to my rescue...? Yeah right. Z gave me to Mack.
With my voice hoarse and broken, I whisper, "You lied to me Z. You said he was good. You promised he wouldn't hurt me, and now he's going to fuck me and you're all going to watch and take pictures, and take turns fucking me. You lied to me..."
Z actually steps forward, but I hate him. He’s bad. He gave me to Mack. He made me available to Mack.
"DON'T touch me! Don't even look at me!! I really did trust you, you know? I didn't want to and it was hard to trust you, but I did anyway, even though I knew it was wrong. I trusted you Z, but you gave me to the men anyway, just like my mother did. You did this. When I'm dead, I want you to remember that. I Know What You Did To ME. You did this. I think I love you, and you did this to me anyway. That's why I never love, and that's why I never feel."
Z is still beautiful to look at. He is still handsome, and just so amazing... But not to me now.
I think my arms and legs are restrained. I can't seem to move them anymore. Not that I really want to. I just don't want anything anymore. God, my body is tired.
"I really wanted to keep you. Just once...” My words are broken on a sob. “…I wanted to keep you, but you were never mine to keep, were you? I knew that, but I hoped so hard anyway. Just once. I wanted someone to want me. I wanted to be special to someone. Just once..."
"You ARE special to me..." Nope. I'm not listening anymore.
"You're a liar. Go away, please. Please don't watch Mack fuck me. Please don't watch it. I only wanted you. One more time. I think I love you, and I wanted someone to love me too, just once. But I don't anymore. I don't want any of this anymore. I want to die, I really do. I don't want all this pain anymore. Please leave, Z. I never, EVER want to see you again." Sobbing in agony, I stop speaking. I stop everything and the room is still and silent except for the agony inside me.
I can't fight this anymore. I don't want to. Maybe I'll die in my sleep, but I doubt it. Mack wouldn't do that. Maybe I can get better, and then I can do it. Maybe? Whatever. I just want this life to be over with. I don't want to feel this life anymore.
Sleep is here. I can feel it. I am being sucked into sleep, not a gentle pull, but a soul sucking exhaustion- and I wouldn't fight it if I could. Asleep, I won't know what they do to my body. Asleep I won't feel the thrusting and the ripping. Asleep, I won't see all the red. Asleep, I won't know how bad it was. And when I wake up, the memory of the pain won't be the same as it actually was. I won't know and I won't remember.
Looking at the monster who gave me away, I take in his beautiful eyes for the last time. Clouding over into an abyss of pain and loss, I see his eyes begging for me. In no more than a final breath, I whisper the words I have always wanted to say.
“I wanted to love you, Z.
But I am gone…”
PART 3
PURGATORY
Saturday, September, 4
CHAPTER 28
Mack should be here within minutes for our 'breakfast meeting', as I call them and today’s meeting is going to hurt, I think. It's time to talk about my attempt. Mack and I have skirted around talking about it for months now. We have almost spoke of it, but neither of us fully commits, and we each pull back from the discussion I'm dreading.
I don't know what I did, exactly, though I know pills were involved and I know I did it at Z's apartment. I need the details now, I think. I need to know how bad it was because the raging hypothetical’s in my mind are making me mental.
Waiting, I'm obsessed with images of what I did. Some are okay, but some are horrendous. I know better than to let my mind wander. I know better, but I find myself unable to stop the exhausting back and forth, rapid train of thought. I'm becoming more and more anxious as the minutes tick by. Where the hell is Mack? It's 8:31, and he's never late.
Waiting, I'm scared suddenly. What if something happened to Mack? What if he was in an accident? Oh my god! What if he's dead? I'll die- plain and simple. I'll curl up and my heart will just give out, I think. I can't live without him. He's all I have. I have no family left, and I threw him away to save him, so Mack is all I have in the world.
Suddenly, the pain I feel is unbearable. I can't stop the steady track of tears from falling. I can't help the hitching of my breath as I struggle. There is nothing left for me now. There is no one to love. There is no one to trust. I have nothing. I am nothing without the one person I do have- Mack.
"Why are you crying? What's happened?" I hear the soft whisper as a warm hand strokes my head in comfort.
Gasping, I look up into Mack's soothing face. Springing from my bed, I grab Mack and throw myself in his arms. Kissing his cheek and pulling his hair so he’s closer to me, I wrap myself all up in his arms, as he holds me tightly. Choking, all I can whisper is "you're alive..." again and again, as I sob and hold him tighter.
Minutes or hours or days later, Mack gently pulls himself free of my death grip and looks at me with questions all over his handsome face. Sitting beside him, I can't breathe for my joy. My post adrenaline rush is making my hands shake and I feel slightly nauseous. Actually, I'm really nauseous. Shit! Turning my head quickly, I throw up beside us on the floor, as Mack jumps out of the way.
Returning to my bedside seconds later, he hands me a blue bowl and towel, while he continues stroking my head as I gag and wretch in the bowl. Jeez... The sound is amplified and echoey in the plastic bowl. It sounds kind of funny actually. Trying to contain my giggles, I fail miserably, as a few gags and following giggles escape.
"I'm sorry. I'm not crazy, but my gags sound really loud and echoey in this bowl. Oh, actually that sounds crazy, but I swear I'm okay. I'm just happy you're alive, that's all."
"Why wouldn't I be alive?"
"You were late."
"I was 6 minutes late, which by Manhattan standards is actually 24 minutes early. You should know that by now," he says grinning at me.
"I'm sorry, you're right."
"What happened?" Mack asks, giving me his special 'talk to me' look, and on a dramatic exhale I talk.
"Um, you were late, and I started panicking, and then before I could control my thoughts you were suddenly dead, and I realized how lost and alone I would be without you, then I was totally overwhelmed with despair and I couldn't stand the pain anymore, and then I realized that basically, I'm totally screwed without you, and then I realized I want to die too, if you're dead." There. I spoke.
"That's a little extreme, don
't you think?"
"Not really. Well, the ‘you were dead’ part because you were 6 minutes late was extreme, but the rest wasn't."
"The 'Mack is dead, so I should be dead too' part wasn't extreme?"
"Not to me."
"Well, it is to me. I want you to live a long, happy life, whether I'm around or not, THOUGH I very much plan to be around for you for quite some time. However, should something happen to me, you are not ALLOWED to give up. I would be very angry at you if you gave up just because I'm not here with you, 'cause I'm dead." I think he's smiling at me, though I don't want to look at him just yet.
"But you'll be dead," I smile.
"Yes, but I can haunt you."
"You're too nice to haunt me."
"Don't count on it. I can be scary you know? Just as Z..." Flinch! Ouch! "I'm sorry, I meant..."
But it's too late… the spell is broken. I'm not relieved with Mack anymore. I'm just filled with the oppressive weight of loss and the heartbroken sadness I've learned to dread throughout each of my days.
My heart is pounding, and my hands are shaking again, and I just feel bereft. There is no other word. I feel like death is all around me.
This is the grief that fills all of my days and nights. A grief so powerful, I can’t function some days, and other days, I simply function on autopilot with no thought or action of my own.
"Mack, um, I'm really off this morning. I think I just need to lie down for a while, okay? Maybe just an hour or so? Maybe I'll wake in an hour, and start my day all over again? You could go see Kayla. Maybe she’s on her break or something?"
"I'd rather stay here with you if you don't mind. We could watch some of your ridiculous TLC shows together?"
"I really want to be alone for a bit. I'm not going to do anything bad, I don't feel that way anymore, if that’s what you think. I don't, I promise. I just want to close my eyes, and wash away all this heaviness from my chest."
Turning I push the bowl to the bedside table and lie on my side with my back turned to Mack.
"I'll just stay in my corner while you sleep, and you can ignore me completely, okay?"
"Please... I'm begging you. I just want to feel this alone. I’m sure I'll be fine in a little while. Please Mack, just let me feel this alone, just for now- just today. I can’t be with you, and I don’t want you here with me. I’m fine, but I just need you to go away for now. Please?"
"Okay. I'll be back in an hour or so."
"Thanks, Mack. And I'm really happy you're alive…" I whisper as I listen to his footsteps walking towards the door.
"Me too. Kayla would be lost without her doctor to torture and harass."
"I love you Mack, and I really want you to be happy..." The 'without me' goes without speaking. I can't say it, but I know Mack knows what I mean. He's a smart man, and he has to know where I'm headed. This is too much for me. This despair is too great.
Thank you Mack for trying so hard. God, that man truly is an angel sent just for me. I love him so much. I love him until he almost fills all the places where I hurt so badly inside.
When I start crying again, I know I'm going to be awhile. These are the tears I cry when the pain lashes at me, and knocks my breath from my lungs. These are the tears that I fight, and don't show anyone if I can help it. These are the tears of agony and loss.
These tears explode from my heart for a mother and father who abused me, and never loved me. These are the tears for a husband who abused me, and never loved me. These are the tears for a man who never abused me, but who should never love me either.
These are the tears for the life I wanted to live but didn't, and for the life I did live and never chose. These are the tears for the choices I didn't have, and for the youth that was stolen from me. These tears pour out every hurt I've ever felt, and every hurt I now remember I have suffered. These are the tears for the life I dream of living, but will never have.
It is when I release this stopper on the agony that everything I know of pain, and even the pain I repressed for fifteen years spills like a deluge from my emotional reservoir. This is for them and… for him.
This pain is for all I ever wanted and for all I'll never have. These are my tears of agony and loss.
==========
When I wake, it's nearly noon. The floor has been cleaned and new flowers are beside me. My head is pounding, my eyes feel dry and swollen, and my throat is scraped raw. I need to sit up and take a drink. I need to rise and shower to wash away all this misery. I need to function again.
"Would you like a drink of water?" I knew he'd be here.
"Yes, please." I croak.
"You sound terrible. Lunch will be here in a few minutes. Did you want to shower before we eat?"
"Yes. I'll just be a minute. Thanks, Mack."
"No problem. I'll be in the hall," he says smiling while handing me a plastic cup filled with ice cold water.
"Thank you Mack, for everything, always." I whisper as he leaves my room once again.
Mack knows I like to shower after every particularly difficult session, or upset. I don't know why I have to, and Mack doesn't question me or even explain it; he just knows I need to shower and he always gives me the time alone I need, and he accepts it.
I like to think my need to shower it as simple as me enjoying the scent of my vanilla-jasmine, though I'm sure there's some deeper meaning behind it. Regardless, I always have to rise and shower whenever things have been intense and painful.
Whenever I have cried hard, or whenever I have panicked fully, I have to excuse myself and go shower. Sometimes right in the middle of the painful conversation, I leave to take a shower. It's a little odd, I think.
Actually, I seem to remember there have been days when I've had like ten to twenty quick rinse-off showers in one day. That seems a little obsessive, no? Huh. I didn't realize just how much I shower here. I should ask Mack if it's normal behavior for someone like me.
After another quick rinse off shower, I dress in my standard blacks, and keep my hair pinned loosely to my head. I remember the first time Mack saw my hair down. Mack had this lovely look on his face, while kind of shocked by my hair, I think.
For one split second I remember feeling nervous of his reaction. I was scared he would be attracted to my hair and then to me or something, but he wasn't. Mack just smiled, said my hair was beautiful, and then continued talking as if it my hair was pinned up. I remember the instantaneous relief I felt knowing I was still safe with Mack.
Walking out of my room, I spot Mack immediately by the nurses’ station talking to Kayla. She is so gorgeous with her black hair and dark brown eyes, and her long, stunning eyelashes which every woman would kill for. Kayla is tall with an average body, but somehow on her, the average body looks killer sexy. Maybe it's her height that makes her look great, or maybe an average body IS just right on her, I don't know. I do know that she's gorgeous, and I think she's finally making headway with Mack.
Seeing me, Kayla says something to Mack who turns with a shrug and a cute little boy grin aimed at me. Kayla gives me a wave and a smile as Mack walks toward me with our lunch. With his back to her, Kayla signals a very enthusiastic thumbs up, smiling from ear to ear. I can't hide my return smile and nod to Kayla, even as Mack raises a questioning eyebrow toward me.
"I'm not telling you, so forget it," is all I say as Mack pouts.
"Fine. I'll feed you, and then maybe slip you some meds... Whatever works, whatever I have to do to get you talking."
"You wouldn't dare." I scowl. "I could have your shrink badge revoked for misuse of your position and prescription pad, quite easily you know."
"You wouldn't dare," he scowls back, "I could have you committed to a padded cell for the rest of your life, quite easily YOU know," he says with his most smug face.
"Dammit. You win. Will I ever have the upper hand with you?"
"Oh, Christ, I hope not. You're insane, remember?"
Bursting out laughing, I push open my door, and hug Ma
ck from the side. Wrapping, my arms tightly around him, I just breathe in my Mack. His comfort and strength has gotten me through some of the worst days of my life. There is nothing I wouldn't do for Mack, and thankfully, after all these months talking with him, I'm pretty sure he feels the same way about me.
Sitting down at our little corner table, Mack begins pulling out our lunch. It's still warm enough that I see steam rising from the styrofoam. I love styrofoam meals; they're usually greasy and yummy, and thankfully Mack and I only indulge in these kinds of meals once or twice a week, so I don't get too fat. Usually we only indulge when I've had a particularly stressful day.
"Cheeseburgers and fries? Is this because I've already had a wretched day? Or because my wretched day is going to get worse? Yum, by the way." I can't help smirking.
"Both, I think. This morning was hard for you, I know. I was in the corner while you sobbed for over an hour..."
"What? You were?"
"Yup. And today is just going to keep sucking, I think," Mack says deadpan.
"'Sucking' is that from the newest psychiatric compendium? Or an older addition?" I ask dryly.
"The newest addition of course."
"Of course. Um, can I enjoy this greasy yumminess before I have to delve deep?"
"Certainly. I wouldn't dare spoil a delicious cheeseburger. Just relax and enjoy your lunch." Uh huh.
After eating in a comfortable silence with Mack, I finally crack. I hate a comfortable silence with Mack. I hate any silence from Mack. I think that's why we work, there are rarely silences that I have to fill. If I'm quiet, Mack starts talking, until I'm talking again. So far, it’s always worked with me. I wonder why he's being so quiet today.
"What's wrong? You're never quiet unless we're watching TV. Just tell me. Look, my cheeseburgers finished and I couldn't eat all the fries anyway. Please Mack, just tell me what's wrong."