Six Flavours of Sin

by Poppet

  I stand and turn swiftly on my heel and start stalking away. He comes rushing after me. "Woman!"

  This guy doesn't learn, does he? Despite his sexiness in blue jeans, thinsulate Caterpillars, and a black leather biker's jacket, he can't get away with this shit another day. I have a fucking name.

  He catches me on the pavement outside. "Wait! I'm sorry! It was just such a shock. You always had such great tits."

  I force a sarcastic smile, "Well you don't have to look at them, so what's the big deal?"

  I wasn't even aware that they'd shrunk to be honest. How nice of him to point it out to me.

  "Don't go. Come on. You just got here."

  "We have nothing to say, Gary. You wanted to see me. Now you've seen me. I'm going out now, with my boyfriend and friends."

  Yes, imagine that. I have friends. Miss Fucked-Up managed to procure friendship and acceptance.

  "Stef, just wait!"

  He grabs my arm again and I seriously flirt with the idea of playing a game of conkers with his nuts.

  "If you need anything, ever, no matter what time of day or night, I want you to know, I'd like to be that guy for you."

  Oh puke! Oh how sweet. Where the hell were you when I needed you?

  I'm feeling so insulted and repulsed. "Thanks. I've got to go." I scour him coldly, "Take care."

  And I bolt. It must have looked sinful from his side of the street when both Tom and Richard stepped out of the coffee shop to walk with their arms around me back to where Zeke waited with Selene. He can think whatever the hell he wants. His opinion no longer matters.

  … Pause ...

  … Play …

  It doesn't take long for Gary Fuchs to make me loathe him even further. A couple of days later I get a phone call at work.

  "Stefanie speaking, how may I assist you?"

  "We need to go for a drive baby."

  What? "I beg your pardon?"

  "Oh, don't play coy. You and me, in the car, now. Hey, what do you say?"

  "Who is this?"

  "Stef, it's Neville. I've been fantasising about being alone in my car with you."

  Gag. "Why?"

  "Aw, don't pretend you don't know."

  I don't know. What the hell is he talking about? "Neville, assume I'm ignorant and explain yourself."

  "Gary told us what you used to do in the car. Oh baby."

  The blood just drains out of my head and I get vertigo.

  "This conversation is over."

  Shaking, I wobble out of my chair, clutching a box of smokes. Going to get air and nicotine outside. Tears threaten to burn my eyes. He just hurt me again. Now he's bragging? It's been so long that I'd forgotten completely about that.

  … Pause ...

  … Play …

  Neville phones me daily. He wants to be my friend. After he told me he wants to fuck me. Yes, just like that. I answered my phone, and he said, "I want to fuck you."

  Those were Gary's magic words, and Neville saying them turned me on instantly, to my revulsion. But honestly, the guy has been nothing but nice to me. He is constant. He doesn't change, and he was the only one for a long time who didn't reject me when I was living in the Gary shackles.

  He and I have far too many intellectual interests in common, and history, for me to just cut him off. I like him very much as a person; so I maintain sporadic telephonic contact with him and the odd email. But I told him to go fuck himself, I'm not available. Dickhead.

  … Pause …

  … Play …

  It's been almost nine months since I last saw Kristy. When she phones me. We tap dance around each other for a while – how are you? What have you been doing? – but I'm pleased when she suggests meeting for coffee at our old place in Tableview.

  Bygones and all that. She's her old bubbly margarine self. She and Alan broke up. A la Stefanie. She had a vicious meltdown, just like mine.

  "Stef, I'm so sorry. That day, I thought you were mad. But just two months later I knew exactly how you felt."

  I give her a wan smile. "It's okay."

  "But my lord, Stef. Do you know why we broke up? I was so disgusted. Gary is such an evil bastard."

  Really? You don't say.

  "All those times they said they were going to play pool, they weren't. Neville told me the truth. I saw it with my own eyes, Stef. My God, I can't tell you how shocked I was. Those bastards were going to that whore-house every Thursday night. Spending thousands a night on prostitutes. Stef, can you believe it? I didn't want to, until I saw Alan and Gary there with my own eyes. It was disgusting!"

  She's waving her hands around frantically. Dramatising the explanation. But I feel as though she’s just punched me. I'm winded. I can't breathe.

  "Those fuckers were caught red-handed. Every Thursday while we sat at home they went to Slippery Satan and spent the whole night with girl after girl. And they were using so much cocaine that I'm surprised neither of them are dead. Stefanie, it broke me in half."

  You mean, like I am, now?

  "Thank God for Neville. He's the only decent one amongst that scum!"

  I nod, numb. I don't know how he managed it, but he's just ripped my heart out again. This is just too much. How much damage can one man do?

  … Pause ...

  … Play …

  It took me years to gain real perspective. I now know that only an insecure man wants to control you. I now know that a man accuses you when he has a guilty conscience. Not because you actually did anything. But because he's so paranoid that the world is going to do to him what he's doing to you.

  I know that it doesn't matter how long you are with someone, you may never fully know them. Look long and hard at that man in your bed tonight. Do you really know him? I thought I knew Gary. Well Kristy blew that illusion out of the window with military brilliance.

  I know now that I was a prime target for an abusive male. Growing up in a home where my father disciplined his wife so severely that later on in life the doctors tell her she's going to need traction to fix her badly distorted spine. My parents could not teach us how to love, for they had none. I could not learn how to cherish because I never witnessed it. I did not understand self-respect, until I lost everything.

  I've come a long way, thanks to loving friends like Selene, and from knowing people calm and balanced, like Richard, Zeke and Tom. I've learned how other people function from my friends. Love isn't explosive and angry, and no one can dictate to you. You have the power to say no. And just because he's not as bad as your parents doesn't mean he's good to you.

  Pay attention, I'm sharing wisdom here.

  If Gary taught me anything, it's that love belongs to an equation that does not fail.

  Love = Pain

  If you love someone, they can hurt you. If you love someone, the loss of that person, through divorce, illness, death or drugs, will destroy something sacred inside you. The parts of you that once were whole are systematically stripped by the pain of heartache.

  There is only one kind of true love. And I've found it. Or it found me. The day when Gary flippantly made that remark about me being fucked up. In that moment I knew, I love myself far too much to ever let him put me through his shit again.

  I finally found a love that lasts. Love for myself. And only by loving myself am I safe from abuse and control. Because if I love myself, as much as I loved Gary, I will always have the motivation to make me happy. To keep me safe, to fulfil my dreams, my goals and my desires.

  Yes. I love me. At last, I love myself enough to make better choices. I love myself enough to be alone if need be. If someone treats me badly I'm better off without them. Never again can anyone take this away from me. Even death can't take this away from me.

  I know, I'm all gushy and should start sending myself secret admirer notes. Send myself a Valentine's card. But I mean it. I hope you find the love I've found. It's complete. It makes me whole. And I am happy.

  I have happy tears right now. I accept myself. I love myself. I'
m putting that girl in the mirror with the bright blue eyes FIRST!

  I'll let you know what happens, but I have a feeling that loving myself like this means I will never be insecure again. Because even though I love Richard, I don't need him to validate my existence. I'm not needy.

  I think you only find and keep rewarding and nurturing love when you don't need to be loved by anyone else. Gary owns people. If someone thinks they can own you get the fuck away from them as fast as you're able.

  Okay, enough chitchat. I have to go. And next time, I promise, I'll give you the dish on the thrilling ride of being engaged to a man-god.

  Define man-god. He doesn't need me. I don't need him. Because of that we never stop treasuring each other, because we both think we're the luckiest souls alive.

  Must go. Kiss kiss.

  Bye.

  P.S: Oh wait! I nearly forgot the best bit. Years later, Neville and I were chatting. I was shocked, to be honest, when he told me he'd been talking to Gary about me. Doesn't it ever end? But anyway, to the point: Neville shared what Gary had told him, "I think I fucked her up for life."

  Oh puh-lease!

  He wishes. He'd love to take the credit for ruining me forever. Although to be fair, I'm surprised he's grown enough as a person to recognise that he damaged me.

  So Gary, if anyone ever shares this private conversation with you, I'd like to go on record here. "You are not that powerful. It's time someone popped your ego and gave you a very expensive reality check."

  I'm happy asshole. Deal with it!

  ~ The End ~

  Biography

  Poppet has over 50 novels to her credit and writes in many genres. She started her career writing for magazines and now specialises in edgy fiction of the paranormal and ghoulish.

  She mostly writes mythology inspired fiction, leaning toward the heretical, blaming her sires for her preoccupation with the realms of gods and fallen angels. She calls her style of fiction Metaphysical Romance, crossing the bridge between the spiritual doctrines and romantic fiction.

  Poppet is published with Eibonvale Press, Wild Wolf Publishing, Vamptasy Publishing, Thorstruck Press, and previously published with Night Publishing.

  Links

  Poppet's Wesbite

  http://authorpoppet.weebly.com

  Poppet's Blog

  http://authorpoppet.wordpress.com/blog

  Poppet's Amazon Page:

  www.amazon.com/Poppet/e/B0046MYVO4

  Twitter:

  @PoppetAuthor

  Facebook Author Page:

  www.facebook.com/pages/Poppet/197111090356326

  Poppet Shop

  www.cafepress.com/teampoppetmerchandice

  You will also find her on Goodreads and Pinterest.

  Acknowledgements

  I would like to thank the following bands / musicians for the use of their songs in this novel, and for the added freedom of using their work in promotional materials.

  Surrounded By Idiots (SBI) www.surroundedbyidiots.com

  Especially Scott Norton and Scott.

  Andy Chester

  www.recreationrecords.com

  Cutting Jade

  www.makesomenoise.co.za/members/654/index.php

  Especially Nancy

  La Paz

  www.lapazrocks.com

  Especially Chic McSherry

  I must thank the many writers who reviewed this novel for me, the most in depth review being from Lesly Uhl, also Simon Corbin, John Booth, Jan, Emma, Jim Murphy, and Harper Collins UK. And a special thanks for your support to authors Anna McNally, Jeff Blackmer, and Simon Corbin.