Beyond the Pale

by E. J. Wood

  ‘Rainee, yeah it’s me, I need some junk.’ The girl heard her mother on the phone as she hid behind a door not making a sound. Her mother’s eyes were hollow, lifeless and black and they caught the windows to the soul in the young girl.

  ‘How long?’ she continued down the phone as she walked towards the girl grabbing her hair scuffing it between her fingers pulling it side to side, the girl winced but stayed quiet accepting the torment of her hair being yanked.

  ‘The kid will be fine, won’t ya, she can take care of herself.’ At that she hung up.

  It wasn’t the first time the girl was left on her own; often hours at a time. The house was scarce, empty as she opened cupboard doors in search of food - but nothing. A chocolate biscuit stuck to the arm of a leather couch in her mother’s usual spot and the girl gingerly walked towards it. Her fingers were dirty and broken with ragged cuticles and her chewed stubs stretched out towards the melted biscuit. She picked at it scraping every morsel of crumb and chocolate away from the leathery arm.

  ‘You stupid, ungrateful, greedy child,’ a voice shouted as an arm outstretched belted the back of the girls head. She winced, cowered and ran to a corner nibbling any remnants of food from beneath her nails. Her once golden locks were now a matted mass as the days passed. The ashtrays filled and her mother moved less and less demanding cigarettes are brought to her.

  ‘Bring me those fags, be a good girl for mom.’ It was 2.00pm.

  ‘Mom?’ Mother was quiet, asleep and a cigarette had gone out between her fingers.

  The girl removed it stubbing it in the astray.

  ‘Mom?’ she called again. The young girl dialled 911. A calm soft voice answered.

  ‘This is 911 what is your emergency?’

  ‘My mom, I don’t think she is well, she won’t wake up.’

  ‘OK do you know your address dear?’

  The emergency services arrived approximately fifteen minutes later. This day would change the girl’s life. The room was sterile, bleak and reminded the girl of a familiar smell, the smell of bleach. She closed her eyes momentarily reminiscing a memory she tried to block. “You dirty girl, stop squirming, give me your hands.” Tears filled her eyes as she opened them back gazing at the white sterile room before her. Machines blipped attracting her attention, footsteps sounded just outside the door, voices spoke shouting over one another, not one voice clear, her head span, eyes darting from side to side, she wants to scream and places her hands either side of her head closing her eyes screaming inside and hides behind a chair positioned in the far corner from her mother’s bed. Quiet as a mouse she was neither seen nor heard. Two nurses entered the room and stood at the end of the bed. An older woman lifts the chart.

  ‘These effects of Krokodil are the worst I have seen,’ the nurse whispered. The girl paused her breathing to concentrate on the discussion between the two nurses, not quite hearing the conversation.

  ‘These scaly wounds, they are different than your average heroin user. I wonder if she even knew.’ The young nurse seemed eager for information, a woman not much older than the girl.

  ‘Krokodil is new on the market, it’s a very deadly concoction of toxic ingredients, gasoline, paint strippers and more, they call it Crocodile on the black market because of its gangrenous scaly effects leaving wounds bone deep. Given her emaciated state, I’m not sure this one has enough fight in her left. Good god, what is the child doing? Get her out of here!’ the nurses rushed towards the girl and ushered her out of the room.

  The girl was alone, abandoned and tried to remember a fond memory but pain flashed before her and suddenly she’s stood in front of her mother once again. A hand raised out stretched ready to plummet down towards her naked fleshy backside. ‘No mommy, please’ she screams ‘please, stop, stop’ she begs, she cries, screaming. Her mother grimaces in reply. “No point in screaming, no one will hear you, no one cares, now be quiet or those scars on your wrists won’t be the last.” The girl screams and the sound echoes into the deathly dark abyss.

  ***

  Present day.

  I bolt upright in bed gasping for breath, breathing heavily, turning to see the alarm clock flashing 5.48am. The sheets are saturated, my skin is sensitive to the touch and my face is wet from tears. I gulp touching first my lips and then my backside remembering the tenderness that it once suffered those years ago. I close my eyes from the sharp pain on my wrist, and turn it to see a fresh cut, running my fingers across it I whimper. You need to battle and overcome these demons Amelia, my subconscious lectures as I gaze at my reflection in the mirror. She was right, Guy isn’t my enemy; I am my own worst enemy.

  ***

  ‘Amelia,’ he stands in front of me hesitantly not making a move towards me. His Jaguar as beautiful as ever parked beside him. Our eyes lock and neither of us make a gesture towards one another. All I want to do is run and leap into his arms. I step forward and then again with the other foot as if learning how to walk for the very first time. I stare at the floor, hesitant, slow and patient. Suddenly he stands in front of me, holding my shoulders.

  ‘God Amelia, what have you done?’ his eyes are dark, intent; he is mad, mad at me, why? ‘What have you done to yourself?’ his voice is soft, a change of tone, suddenly his voice is fearful and concerned. His fingers twirl around a piece of hair that hangs and tucks it behind my ear and lifts my chin up with his index finger to face his own. I am thankful for my long hair, a glorious camouflage to my face a racked ruin. ‘You’re quite the challenge,’ he whispers grabbing me tightly, hugging me forcefully. My heart pounds a thousand beats and I am speechless, I cannot move, nor speak, my words stolen from me. ‘Let’s get you home,’ he says as his hand grabs me pulling me towards the car.

  ***

  His house is quiet, clean and sterile exactly how I remembered.

  ‘Sit,’ he demands holding a med kit.

  The smell of disinfectant tortures my nose as he pours it onto the tissue.

  ‘I’m sorry for the tissue, I can’t seem to find any gauze,’ he kisses my cheeks as he pads my wrist gently.

  ‘It’s dry.’ The words escaping my mouth, he pauses.

  ‘I know but I need to make sure it’s clean, I’m going to look after you, I told you, you are my girl,’ a smile meets both my eyes as I gaze into his beautiful brown sunflower pupils. This man really cares but…

  ‘I’m flawed, Guy, I’m no good for you, I am damaged goods.’ The tears well up in my blue eyes. His eyes meet mine pausing momentarily his cleaning of my wounds.

  ‘Amelia, you are flawed? Perhaps, but your flaws are devastatingly attractive, we are more alike than you imagine.’ I smile looking down at fidgeting hands whispering

  ‘I can believe that,’ remembering the report sent by Dr Clarke. Guy resumed his cleansing, a control freak in having everything sterile, everything in its place, even me. I admire it, cherish it, it is refreshing and even at the trauma I endured it was nothing compared to the suffering I experienced being away from him.

  ‘I’m going to take this off,’ he says with his hands at my shoulders removing my shirt.

  ‘Lie with me,’ I whisper.

  ‘I’ve missed you Amelia.’

  ‘I’ve missed you too.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Know what?’

  ‘About your past,’ I say softly.

  His eyes turn away from me; his body stiffens and is clearly uncomfortable.

  ‘Is that why you have done this to yourself?’

  ‘This? I haven’t done this,’ pointing at my wrists. But then who? Who did?

  My brows crease as I stare at my palms face up. He clutches my hands encased in his.

  ‘I said I would look after you, and I will.’ He strokes the side of my face and urges me to stand. ‘Let’s get you washed.’

  The bathroom is clean, white, modern and sterile. More products than necessary a man could want. Shampoo, toothpaste, hair gel, everything, does a man really need all of this? I wonder as my eyes
investigate all the beauty products. The faucet runs warm as I stand gazing into my reflection; a person I don’t recognise is undressed by Guy. The water streams over my hair sticking it to the side of my face as Guy stands massaging the soap and sponge over my shoulders and down my back.

  ‘Relax, you are so stiff,’ his mind focused on cleaning me, no intention of anything sexual, his eyes unreadable. I place my hands on his shoulders lifting my feet up one at a time to be washed.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I whisper.

  ‘You don’t need to apologise to me, just don’t leave me again, you frightened me.’

  Frightened him?

  ‘I won’t, I promise.’

  He stands raising my chin towards his, embracing me in the shower. He chuckles slightly.

  ‘What?’ I smile.

  ‘You look exactly the way you did when I first laid eyes on you.’

  Merrily drunk in sweat pants, very sexy.

  ‘Outside on the lawn when you moved in?’ I ask.

  ‘No, a long time before then.’

  I pause not understanding, ‘when?’

  ‘The first time I saw you I knew I loved you, and no matter the price I knew I could not walk away,’ he states.

  ‘When did this occur?’ I step back into the cubicle.

  ‘When you were thirteen years old, you stepped out of the car and you were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, like Christmas morning.’

  ‘When I moved in with Aunt Gladys?’

  ‘Yes,’ he answers.

  ‘Of course, Sarah, Aunty mentioned her, your sister?’ I tremble.

  ‘I’d watch you every day, watch you play and grow and mature into who you are today – your golden locks and innocence, how you have changed. But when I discovered about what happened I swore to myself that I would cherish you, and take care of you no matter what.’

  My mouth opens but no words speak. He grabs my hand and kisses it resting it against his cheek as his eyes well up with tears.

  ‘Guy, please don’t cry.’

  ‘Oh Amelia, you give me so much hope. I aspire to be a better person when I am around you. I go insane when I’m not, I do crazy things, and things I’m not proud of but the urge inside drives me to the brink and when you left I kept smiling just to stop the tears from falling.’ He steps back looking upwards, pointing to everything frantically around the room ‘its all for you,’ he says dryly and drops to his knees clutching his face in his hands as he sobs. I had never seen a grown man cry, as he looks up at me a single drop of grief wells up in the corners of his eyes and as I stare back in shock. The dam breaks. Torrents course their way down his face as the translucent trickle of emotions scream for an answer as his soul bleeds out to me. I kneel beside him tentatively touching his shoulders and lift his chin with my index finger smiling at him, my brows creasing and lean in to kiss his tender lips. Almost immediately I am engulfed; he stands wrapping both hands underneath me lifting me into the air and thrusts into me slamming me against the wall. I release my kiss and yell. My nipples chaffing against him, hardening and reddening at the friction. As he nips at my neck and pulls at the skin, his tongue runs along my jaw line.

  ‘You taste so sweet,’ he whispers before continuing his torment. His hand joins his tongue and wraps itself around my neck as if he could hold me there in front of him. Using his body weight his other hand unzips his pants and releases his erection springing out hard and firm and presses it against me entering me forcefully. I yelp again and again at each thrust but my wind escapes me at every thrust his grip tightens around my throat. I cannot breathe and I choke as he releases groaning in ecstasy. My breath returns and I stare at his face, I can feel his passion, his need for me and his want. His love my obsession, it’s sweet yet dangerous, just how I like it.

  CHAPTER 15

  The bitter aroma of ground coffee beans waver their essence throughout the air like a cloud as I make my way towards a table. The morning is grim and overcast with a gentle murmur of voices passing the window and a hum inside can be heard above the harsh grounding of the coffee bean machine.

  ‘Hey Sweetie,’ a voice sounds from behind me. Laura as beautiful as always strokes my shoulders kissing my cheek as she pirouettes in front of me swirling her figure.

  ‘How are you?’ I smile and study her flawless features and assertiveness as she orders a pot of Earl Grey. The tea comes black and flavoured with bergamot. It is brewed much paler than the usual breakfast type and burns my lip as I taste its flowery perfume flavour. I am nervous in the presence of Laura as she delves deep into conversation about her latest rendezvous and tribulations. I edge further off my seat as my stomach churns somersaults with the hot liquid descending into my chest.

  ‘You are very quiet,’ she whispers leaning in close to touch my hands that encase around the mug. Her index finger begins stroking mine.

  ‘I’m good.’

  ‘You’re lying, I know you Amelia. You know I’m not one to pry but I do care about you.’

  ‘I know,’ smiling I gaze at her finger stroking mine provoking me to open up but I pull my hands away. She leans forward and grabs my hands pulling them towards her, towards her body.

  ‘Please Laura don’t do this.’

  ‘Do what?’ she smiles.

  ‘You know.’ My lips part, I sigh and I’m taken back to the day we first met.

  ***

  The music blared as I stood in line wrapping myself with glee nervously awaiting entrance with my fake ID. I passed with flying colours and entered the black pit thankful for the freedom of the chill outside. The flashing lights on the dance floor were enough to send anyone into an epileptic fit yet the club was very crowded. As I pushed and shoved my way towards the bar, sweaty bodies pressed and rubbed like sardines in a can. I didn’t mind though and felt all eyes on me as I passed feeling out of place. I said I’d meet a friend and after a drink I took a glow stick and waved it overhead at the cage dancers hastily searching for my friend. It wasn’t long before I had perspiration and released my day’s stress having just graduated from high school. My body moved to the rhythm of the beat and my heart pounded in my chest as a voice shouted in my ear laughing and saying I danced like an electrocuted grasshopper. Hey what did I care? I put the oogie in boogie! My attention was soon drawn to a woman on the dance floor owning the space. Her beauty mesmerising all that watched. Her eyes caught mine and she made her way over. I looked from side to side gulping, had she seen a familiar face? A friend? Near me? No, she was after me!

  ‘Hello, I’m Laura,’ she smiled.

  Laura had me at “hello” and we spent many times together. I remember one distinctive memory that echoed in my mind; she invited me round one evening to help choose an outfit for a dinner date, however to cut a long story short, she never went. Her dress fell effortlessly to the floor and she stood before me gloriously naked. Her breast firm and plump “Do you like them?” she asked. I was startled at her comment and muttered ‘I guess so,’ twitching my fingers uneasily at her question. I couldn’t believe her breasts could be that unyielding and always assumed that her cleavage was due to a push up bra. I felt an urge between my legs and made my way towards her reaching out for her next garment to try. “Leave it, come here,” she beckoned and like a puppy wanting its dinner I turned without question and stood beside her. “Touch them,” she grabbed my hand and placed it on top of her breast. I had never felt another woman’s breast before. But from watching other women I always compared them to myself when they walked, bent, turned and how their breasts always appeared softer and suppler than my own. Laura’s breasts were so firm and I remembered the number one rule, no cosmetic surgery, always opt for 100% home grown. My hand squeezed breast harder and I closed my eyes releasing a warm sigh synchronised with hers. I felt their weight and squeezed them gently rubbing her nipples between my thumb and index finger and tilted my head to one side. Her breasts pushed against me and my hands shook and perspired. My body stiffened as we became more and more arous
ed and I felt myself becoming light heart as the blood flowed south. She continued to provoke me by moving her body closer and she ground her pelvis into mine as her hands reached behind me grasping my bottom tight. I gasped as my groin pulsed, it was so unexpected and I started to lose control. I wanted to rub my hands against her pubic region and wonderful erotic sensations yielded me as I became on the brink of ecstasy under her whim. Her body lithe and beautifully shaped and my mind went into overdrive. Her nipples were small and tight as most of the dark skin had pulled taught and upwards to form erect rose buds that craved my caress and I was unable to resist lowering my head and enveloping my mouth around them. We fell onto her bed pushing the garments to the floor caressing one another’s bodies and my fertile imagination took on an identity of its own throbbing between my legs begging for touch. I resisted and wallowed in the beautiful yet agonising arousal she delivered. My breasts were hot and grew as she sent her hand south of her body flowing past her naval and swirled her finger around the few strands of hair. My blood boiled and pulsed unbearably as I watched with intent. Foolishly I wondered if I touched my nipples it would lessen the urge but it heightened and my finger encircled itself around my areole. Ben and Jerry stood to attention – nicknames as she liked to call them because of their chewy sweetness that was unable to resist. I lay perfectly still and teetered on the brink of explosion. I could have released myself and plunged into the sea of eternal oblivion of total pleasure and satisfaction but I resisted. I watched her come with a powerful moan fighting my most primal animalistic instincts as her body shuddered and she sighed as her face relaxed. I smile wondering if my life will always be on the brink of orgasm but savoured in the delightful tease I extracted from her in this perfect moment, the crescendo leaving as I embraced her close, breathing in her delicious scent and drifted off to sleep.