Who would have thought that I, of all people, would be so masochistic?
So, it was easier to stay drunk all the time. Did I really want to die of dehydration, alcohol poisoning, and lack of food? I wasn't sure but I didn't care if I lived either.
Finally, I had enough and threw the pillow on the floor. I blinked a few times to chase away the blur before my eyes. Why was everything so foggy? Oh, yes, my glasses. I reached out to where I thought the bedside table was, and after some fumbling, I got a hold of them. It was a miracle I hadn't smashed them. My cell phone was lying somewhere broken into pieces after I had a full bottle of whiskey one lonely evening.
Why had I done it? Oh yeah, right.... so I wouldn't call Lina. I missed her so badly it hurt. If I called her I was sure I'd go back to her and that would be a mistake, if she even wanted anything to do with a pathetic, smelly mess of a man.
My glasses may have survived the insanity but they were so dusty it didn't make any difference. When I stepped on the floor, the world swayed as if I were a small boat in a stormy sea. The bile rose in my throat and I bent double. I grabbed the bedside table for support and emptied my stomach juices onto the dirty ground.
That had to make me feel bad about myself. I was so out of shape I couldn't even stagger my way to the bathroom. The room already reeked of so many different body fluids my sense of smell had got used to them.
It was disturbing how easily one could get used to the smell of unwashed flesh, sweat, and filth. Taking a shower was no longer a necessity. I was often so drunk I could easily drown in the tub. It didn't matter if I ate at all. You know how nutritious malt is?
Why was that person still ringing? Why would anyone care and not leave me to my own graveyard? Seriously, did they have nothing better to do? Was there some Pathetic Alcoholic Wrecks Outreach in the neighborhood?
Whoever was calling my landline lost their patience. Worse, they were in front of my door. I didn't even have the time to wipe my mouth before the entire room started vibrating. If the landline ringing was a torture device, the doorbell could only compare to a brain dissection while I was still awake.
Scratch that, it was much worse.
I screamed and slapped my palms against my ears. The racket woke me up from my stupor and gave me enough energy to finally search for the fucking phone. It was humiliating. On hands and knees, crawling over the filthy floor among scattered clothes and shoes. A ridiculous little rush of pride went through me once I finally got to the receiver. I hurried to answer the call.
The moment I did, the doorbell stopped ringing only to be replaced with the voice of a very pissed off woman.
"Get your ass downstairs right now."
Over the years I'd seen Allie in all of her moods, in all sort of roles and mindsets. This was the first time her voice had ever whipped me with fury. That simple sentence was enough to sober me.
"Allie, please..."
"Don't 'Allie, please' me, you stupid jerk. Get downstairs and open the fucking door or I'm calling the police. Have fun explaining yourself to them."
"Okay, just give me five minutes."
"You have two and a half." Allie hung up before I could respond with anything coherent.
Shit! My best friend was here and she'd see my disgusting state, how much I had fallen. There was no way I could make myself semi-presentable, clean the house and meet Allie in five minutes, was there? Telling her to leave wouldn't work either. She was a pit bull from hell when she set her mind or something. So I might as well face the music.
I dropped the phone on the ground and sucked in a breath. How the hell would I get downstairs? My legs were shaking as I took the first step out of the bedroom. It'd be a bad idea to make Mistress Sheila wait.
It would be a good idea to wipe my glasses but I'd probably just stain them more.
One foot in front of the other, I thought bitterly, taking slow steps and leaning against the wall. My body refused to obey the dizzy commands of my brain or it was too exhausted from how much I'd mistreated it. Maybe I was dying and my physical functions were slowly shutting off.
The thought of just ignoring Allie, going back to bed and never getting up again was so seductive. I reached out to touch my forehead to find it burning and sweaty.
Lina's face flashed in a blurry mess of memories, like a beacon, and the shame bit even harder. What would she say or do if she was here to see me? I was slowly losing my mind to hallucinations but I swore I could hear her calling me from the end of the hallway that led to the staircase. She'd been down on her knees so many times in there, happy to be at my feet, staring at me with adoring eyes. Lina chose to kneel for me because she thought I was worthy of her submission. That's what she said. It thrilled her to offer it as a gift.
Even the smartest women could make huge mistakes. I was anything but worthy in that moment. The voice I loved so much was still beckoning me to come closer, like a gentle whisper.
Each new step was a huge effort and the tremors in my limbs were getting worse. A sense of guilt prickled my consciousness as I descended to the first floor. The house was decaying. My fingers slid down the railing, which was covered with such a thick layer of dust I could sign my name on it. Empty alcohol bottles and cardboard Chinese and pizza boxes were all over the place. A huge hole gaped from the TV screen and the books from my once neat library were scattered on the ground.
When exactly did I start spiraling down so hard?
The last thing I did resembling housework was to put the heaviest possible padlock on my former dungeon and throw away the key.
Darkness was gathering before my eyes so it was no wonder I missed the huge puddle at the foot of the stairs, slipped on it and fell down with full force. The razor-sharp pain when my heel came into contact with the shards of broken glass was so intense and white hot I nearly lost consciousness. I screamed with physical agony, rolled over with the utmost effort and looked at the small piece sticking out of the soft wounded flesh. Tears were streaming down my cheeks against my will, just like the dripping blood.
Why can't I just die here? Allie can threaten and call the police if she wants. I'll bleed to death and it will be over.
Who knows what force of nature made me pull the stinging, sharp piece of glass and throw it on the ground? The warm trickle of blood grew more profuse but I ignored it and got up with a new sense of resolve. I was gritting my teeth, with the edge of my tongue pressed between them, focused on surviving until I got to the front door.
I had to reach Allie, even if that was the last thing I did.
Bleeding would have seriously concerned me at any other time, but right then, determination took priority over survival instinct. I walked slowly and winced whenever Allie lost her patience and pressed the doorbell. Couldn't she give me a fucking break? I was doing all I could.
By the time I reached the tinted glass door, I was out of breath and swimming in sweat, as if I had run a marathon. It was a miracle I was still standing but there wasn't a spot on my body that didn't hurt like hell. How would I face Allie?
Now or never.
Sunshine invaded the room when I opened the door, blinding me. After all that time in the gloomy shell of the bedroom, the contact with light burned my eyeballs. I covered my eyes with my palms and hissed like a vampire in a cheap horror flick.
The door slammed. I raised my head and sighed with relief when I saw Allie hovering over me, squeezing her plain red baseball cap. Her face was twisted with disgust and shock. She took a step back and leaned against the door, shaking her head.
My hair had grown ridiculously long. At nearly shoulder length, it felt greasy and slimy on my skull. I had smashed almost every mirror in the house in a fit of drunken rage so I had no idea what my face was like. My eyes were stinging so they were probably bloodshot. The filthy t-shirt with mustard stains and who knew what else was hanging off my body. I must have lost weight.
Yet there was some grim satisfaction in rendering Allie speechless. It had never happened
in all the years I'd known her.
When her shock faded, she must have realized she was in the Haven of Bad Smells. Allie wrinkled her nose and pinched it.
That day, Allie had chosen to be her geeky tomboy self, with a wide flannel shirt and baggy jeans. She shoved the baseball cap in her pocket so we could keep eye contact.
"What the ever loving fuck, Thomas? Who died in here?" she cried out and looked with all the horror one could see in the eyes of an OCD person. "Someone or something is rotting in here, and it must have a whole fucking colony of worms nestling in its carcass."
Allie always had a way with words. I sighed and stared at her with defeat.
"What are you doing here, Allie?" The words just rolled out of my mouth, laced with way too much hostility.
Her jaw dropped for a moment but she quickly pulled herself together. My best friend crossed her arms over her chest and walked to me with the same disgusted look on her pretty face.
"What am I doing here?" The sight of her black eyes was nearly enough to break my pathetic attempts at defying her. "I've been calling you like crazy. You dropped off the grid! Your phone is out of range so the only way I could reach you was on your landline, which you don't pick up. Nobody has seen or heard from you for months, and everybody is sick with worry."
"Like who?" I laughed in her face. I knew I was being a huge jerk to her. Was I really a glutton for punishment? "Lina? My dear co-workers who thought I was the best and labeled me overnight as 'that asshole who got promoted because he was fucking the boss'? Who the hell cares if I live or die?"
"Me, for example," she spat back in response and glared at me. "I thought that eventually you'd return my calls. If I had any idea what I'd run into, I'd have done it a lot sooner. Your mother called me today. She's been going crazy trying to get in touch with you, too."
I shivered. Of all the people who might miss me, I'd never thought of my mother, not even for a second. The lump in my throat grew heavier and I cast my eyes down.
"Please, don't talk so loud."
"I'll speak as I please," Allie retorted and kept up with her tirade. "The poor woman was hysterical on the phone. She was going to report you missing. I had to walk her off the bridge for nearly an hour and promised her I'd personally check on you."
So there were some people who cared for me. My shame grew stronger. I wanted to tell Allie I was sorry. So why couldn't I?
"What if I don't want you to worry?" The moment I said that I wanted to punch myself. "I'm old enough and if I want to be left alone that is my decision. You should fucking respect it."
A more sensitive woman would tear up and leave, slamming the door behind her. Allie didn't even tremble. She came closer and frowned when she caught my heavy whisky breath.
"How much have you been drinking?" Her face blanched once she looked down at my foot. "Holy shit, you're bleeding. Are you trying to kill yourself? Thomas, this isn't like you."
"Look, I haven't stolen anything. It's my money, my booze, and I'll drink as much as I want." Poison was building up on the inside. Why did I have to release it on Allie? She deserved better but that didn't stop me from lashing out at her.
"I'm an adult, get it? If I want to throw my life away, I'll do it. No one can stop me, not even you, Little Miss Perfect. Why don't you get lost and go whip your boy toys into submission? I don't need this shit."
Some of my spit hit her face. I expected she'd get mad, pull a whip out of her sleeve or something and roughly put me in my place. I deserved it. Instead, Allie smiled coldly.
"Thomas, I know what you are doing. It's not going to work, not with me." She was eying my foot with genuine concern. "You're in way over your head. Quit trying to provoke me. Trust me, if you were my sub and behaved like this, you wouldn't be able to walk straight for at least a month. I'd have no sympathy for your insolence."
That made me shudder. Allie smiled again, clearly feeling her victory. Breaking a smelly, lousy degenerate like me could hardly pass as a triumph.
"You know, you're the annoying little brother I never wanted."
"Oh, shut up, Allie." I frowned and rubbed my forehead. "I'm three months older than you."
She ignored me and kept talking with an even voice, not losing sight of me.
"Maybe I'm wasting my time on you, especially when you act like a child." She tilted her head. "Our friendship means enough to me not to let you ruin your life. Get your shit together or I'll force you to. Do you understand?"
"Really, why do you want to help me?" I snapped at her again. "Can't you see it? I'm a fuck up. I failed in everything. I failed Lina, you, people's trust. I'm a pathetic loser who can't fix his own mess without your help. Why would you even want to look at me? You, always in control, knowing what to do, a freaking paragon of kink virtue. Quit wasting your time with me, Allie! Go back to your well-ordered life and just let me rot."
I had forgotten how fast Allie could move, and with the stealth and grace of a lurking cheetah. When she grabbed me by the hair and forced me to my knees, I cried out in shock. She held me with an iron fist, took off my glasses and put them in her pocket. All I could see were blurry images, and Allie was an abstract portrait of messy colors. A portrait that slapped my cheek so hard I swore she left a scar. The quick blow was followed by another on the other cheek.
"Please, stop it..."
"Never, ever speak to me like that again. Do you hear me, Thomas?" She hissed and sank her nails into my scalp. Any other time, I'd have laughed at the irony of a cleanliness freak like her touching my filthy hair. "I know you're hurting and depressed but I won't put up with this crap from you."
"I'm so sorry." She was right. I was hurting on the inside, and no matter what I did I couldn't numb the pain. Allie had stripped me of my defenses with just two slaps and the harsh truth. No one had ever seen me cry, not even Lina. I could barely hold back and it showed in my whimpering voice. "I'm sorry, Allie. I didn't..."
"You haven't begun to know what sorry feels like," she hissed but softened her grip on my hair and made me get to my feet. "You say you're an adult? I'll start treating you like an adult when you begin to act like one."
She yanked me hard by the hand and dragged me in an unknown direction. It was difficult to say given how bad my vision was, even with the dirty glasses. I heard her tutting.
"Damn it, Thomas, what did you do to this place? I'd need weeks to fully clean and disinfect it." She growled. "We might even have to call an exterminator."
My brain was so fried I couldn't come up with a snappy retort to save my life.
Allie dragged me up the stairs. It was difficult to keep up with her pace when I was ready to faint.
"Allie, please, slow down."
She never responded. She just kept tugging my hair as if I were a slave boy on a leash.
At first, I thought she'd take me to the bedroom, but instead, we took a detour to the bathroom--another place haunted with so many Lina moments it hurt me to stay there.
She dropped me onto the dirty floor like a sack of potatoes. Next thing I knew, a heavy stream of ice-cold water was poured over my head and hair. I screamed and begged Allie to stop. Grief choked me and I heard myself crying out loud.
"Just look at you." Her voice was as cold as the water she was pouring all over me. "Look what you did to yourself."
"I'm sorry, okay? I don't know what to do. It's just..." I curled under the frosty stream and burst into tears.
Allie turned the water off, sighed softly and uttered in a gentle voice, "Just this time, okay? Don't ever get used to it."
She knelt next to me and drew me into her embrace, even if I was wet, with snot all over my face, and filthy dirty. I didn't think. I just clutched at her desperately, like a drowning man, and let her comfort me.
"Cry as much as you want," Allie whispered. Only later would I appreciate the fact that she got over so many of her personal phobias just to help me feel better.
What did I do to deserve her?
I didn't
care. I accepted what she had to offer and let her hold and rock me in her secure hug.
"We'll get through this together, okay?" She was stroking my back slowly until I stopped crying. My mind was slowly fading but somewhere deep inside, I believed her words. The sense of comfort was like a lullaby and I felt myself drifting.
The first thing I did after waking up was search for my glasses. Surprisingly, they were in the familiar spot on the bedside table and much cleaner than last time I was wearing them. A smile crept onto my face. Seeing clearly was a relief.
I was still sleepy so it took me a few minutes to recognize where I was. It looked like a hotel room or a hospital. There was a single, very comfortable bed with a chair next to it, a desk in the corner, and a small bookshelf mounted on the wall. There were no books or any personal items. The only other furniture was a closet. I also saw a door that probably led to the en-suite bathroom.
And then it dawned on me.
I was in Allie's apartment. This was the room she kept for subs in training.
Given the state of my home, it was no wonder she'd decided to bring me here.. I vaguely remembered her making me put on an old running suit. When we arrived, she pushed me under the shower and I spent at least twenty minutes under the blistering hot stream, trying to rub the filth of my skin. I still felt dirty but I was too drained to care. The last thing I recalled was dropping onto my face in the freshly made bed after Allie gave me some aspirin. Relieved of pain and nightmares, I'd never fallen asleep so fast in my life.
Sleep had given me a little energy so I decided to get up and search for Allie. When I pushed the bed covers away, I saw my heel was bandaged. It still hurt, but someone had taken good care of it.
I put on a t-shirt and boxers she'd left for me on the chair, as well as a pair of slippers, and walked out the door. My gait was a bit unsteady and I had a pulsing headache, but at least I wasn't the vomiting, pathetic creature I had been before... How much time had I spent in that nondescript room?
My sense of smell was recovering remarkably well. The seductive fragrance of coffee allured me to Allie's kitchen. It'd been way too long since I'd had high-quality caffeine in my system. I was even ready to take her dark witch poison, strong enough to kill a horse.
Unorthodox Chemistry Page 4