by Bradon Nave
Jessie was it. I truly loved him. My mind was a horrible place to get lost in—every time I made it out I emerged screaming and pointing fingers. This time I pointed them at Jessie and drove him to end it.
In the depths of my psyche I understood it to be the only option. My mind was too far gone to have a functional relationship. Ideas of Jessie and I overcoming the odds and obvious mental dysfunction were clearly ridiculous once all emotion was removed from the equation.
Removing emotion from the equation was the difficult part. I couldn’t help but picture the ending—not even the best ending or the happiest ending. A normal ending would be fantastic. How the hell does someone envision an ending or attempt to get there when they have no idea where to start?
Pathetic and unfixable, I sat broken on the steps of my broken home—waiting for Jessie to arrive in Cory’s car and finish us. He wasn’t my life’s deciding factor, I would eventually bounce back. It’s the part between now and eventually that would suck; I knew it would hurt so badly.
And then there’s the part of not knowing what or where I’d be bouncing back to. Would I be a callous bitch the rest of my life? Would I always fear the way I do now? And pinpointing exactly what it was I was afraid of was becoming increasingly difficult. The male anatomy—revolting as it is, isn’t something I find entirely horrific, in fact it can be a useful bargaining tool. But it’s the act itself, when two bodies become one and when they actually touch me and all that shit—that’s what leaves me nauseated and frightened and wanting fly away like a bumblebee.
This was it—this was the now; this was my now. The now sucked ass. Any fleeting morals or grounded belief system I had was thanks mainly to my father. I had my mother to thank for the ability to remain poised while at the dinner table and for an extensive vocabulary. I occasionally thanked her for her love—I knew she loved me as much as she could with what she had. And then I had the monsters to thank. They left me broken with nothing but broken tools to repair myself—huge shout out to them.
Snapped back to reality—the sounds of the Mustang’s engine captured my attention—and my breath. As Jessie pulled into my drive I attempted to avoid eye contact.
When he emerged from the vehicle I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. These last few moments, precious and brutal all at once, were all I had left of us. I wanted to take him in.
“Hey.” His confidence was still there. There was nothing wavering about his swagger or approach. He was here to finish us. It was over.
“Hi.”
His poise and the way he held his shoulders as he stood over me left me feeling a multitude of emotions. At the forefront, I was thankful he was so strong, or at least he appeared to be as he sat down next to me.
“Kacey…I finally see myself…actually getting better. I finally see myself getting over this and having a good life. I have to go with that. I can’t compromise that.”
“I know.” Hearing his words sent the tears streaming. Resting my face in my sleeved palms, I let him speak—I let him finish us.
“I care about you so much…but I can’t help you. I don’t know how to help you and you’re not helping me. You’re hurting me. I’ve been hurt enough already.”
“Okay.” I now understood the answer, okay or, ’K; it’s the answer one provides when they can’t think, can barely breathe and have no idea how to even categorize or process the emotions rampaging through their head.
“I wish you would get help, Kacey. I know how bad it hurts to lose a parent. I know what it can do to you…but you can’t bottle it up like that. I hope that you can get over this pent up anger you have and get on with life somehow.”
“Me too.” So many things danced in my mind, yet none made it to my mouth. We sat there, just being for a few moments more.
“I’m gonna go.”
“Please! Please just sit here a few more minutes, Jess.”
“This isn’t easy for me either, Kacey.”
“I…I know. I know it isn’t. I know it sounds stupid. I know we’re only in high school but I was honestly seeing my future with you. When I think of ten years from now…I seriously think of you. That’s gone now. Please, just give me five more minutes. I really do love you, Jessie.”
Certain he would deny my five minute request, I inhaled deeply and turned my gaze from him—it hurt too much to look at him.
“Look at me, Kacey. If you ever, and I mean ever speak to me like that again or lash out at me for no reason I’ll never speak to you again, understand?”
His beautifully hardened words filled my ears and sent my head nodding in agreement.
“And you’re going to get help. You’ve got to get help. I can’t sacrifice my progress because you refuse to get professional help.”
“I will!” If this was truly happening, if there was truly a chance of redemption, I understood I had to sacrifice and leverage whatever it took to ensure I didn’t lose him—I had to tell him everything. I couldn’t sink us both—I had to get help, real help.
“The only reason I’m not walking away is because I believe you when you say you love me. Now start loving yourself. Stop abusing those that you love. You’ve got to get some help, okay?”
“I will, I promise…Jessie, I’ll do whatever I have to do if you’ll give me another chance…please don’t break up with me.”
“Sshhh. C’mere.”
Placing his arm around my shoulder and pulling me close to him sent me crashing on the inside. Only seconds ago he was walking out of my life forever and now he was cradling me. “My head isn’t right, Jessie…I have so much I need to tell you but I just can’t right now.”
“That’s okay…you just have to tell somebody. You have to talk to somebody, okay?”
“Okay. Jessie I can do anything as long as I don’t lose you.”
“Okay. Stop crying, beautiful. We’re gonna figure this out and kick its ass, okay?”
“I’m so sorry for speaking to you that way. You’re not stupid. You’re precious. I seriously love you. You’re precious to me.” Wrapping my arms around his waist I hugged him. Having him next me, knowing he wasn’t going to finish us, now allowed me to actually remove some of that emotion from the equation. Was this the best for him? I knew it wasn’t, but I couldn’t let him go.
“I…I love you too, Kacey.”
“I wish we could go back…but I know we can’t, so thank you.”
“Go back to where?”
“To before I said and did the things I did.”
“It goes beyond that, Kacey. There’s a reason people hurt the ones they love.”
“Then I wish I could go beyond then…before we fractured. Before I fractured”
“Stars are coming out.”
“Yes…they are.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“Indeed. You’ve been dirty, Kassandra. Tell me how you’ve been dirty.”
“I haven’t.”
“You have. A dirty little girl. I noticed the mark of passion left on your young lover.”
Glancing about the office, my mind was a complete and utter fog. At this point I didn’t care what he did or didn’t know. The end of the appointment would result in the same outcome regardless.
“Where else, Kacey?”
“What?”
“Where else did you leave such marks? Did he leave marks on you? Did he take you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Uncle Cline.”
“Oh but you do, Kassandra.” Standing from behind his desk, he removed his belt. “Do you prefer his member to mine? Is he larger? Tell me Kassandra, are you not fractured? Are you not broken without me?”
“I am.”
“Good girl. I see you’ve been taking your pills like a big girl?”
“I have.”
“Remove your pants for the examination, Kassandra.”
“Please…I don’t feel well.”
“Indeed. You’re more than likely infected with a sexually transmitted disease. That poor boy. His
life is crumbled and in ruins…and here you are, a toxin of the foulest nature. You take everything from everyone and leave them as empty as you, Kassandra. Are you not fractured? Are you not broken?”
“I am.”
“Say it.”
“I’m fractured…I’m broken without you.”
“Good girl! Now remove your pants and prepare for the exam.” Patting the desk, he motioned me to it.
There was no point resisting. I was mush—my mind and life were mush. Within seconds my pants and underwear were off and I was sitting on his cold desk.
“Flat on your back…legs apart and relax.”
“Please…Uncle Cline I don’t feel well—”
“Dirty, gross little girl. Do I not know what is best?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Say it again, Kassandra.”
“I’m fractured…I’m broken without you.”
“Good girl, Kassandra. Open your legs further, now.”
Opening my legs, my foggy brain was rattled by an outrageous commotion. I turned to the door to find it busted through—my boyfriend charging through like a madman. He knew. Finally—he knew.
“Jessie Kasper! What are you doing! You are interrupting an exam—”
“I trusted you!” I heard Jessie yell out as he punched my uncle in the face.
“Jessie!” Perhaps my scream went unheard. Jessie kicked my crawling uncle as I leapt from the desk and began redressing.
“You sonofabitch!”
“Jessie!” Screaming again, I watched as he beat my uncle in the face—and then something dark awakened. My eyes took in the beating like ice-cold water on a hot summer day. It was a sight of beauty. I wanted more.
“I’m…I’m so sorry, Kacey. I didn’t know. I’m so freaking sorry…I just didn’t know.”
Looking to Jessie standing over my debilitated uncle, I felt a deep seated rage take me. “Don’t stop.”
“What?”
“Don’t stop!”
“Wait!” My uncle attempted to scream for mercy but his screams only added fuel. I wanted to hear his agony verbalized; I wanted to see him bleed while he cried out in pain—I wanted to end his life.
Jessie continued punching the bastard as I rushed to join. Reaching for one of the fireplace pieces, a metal piece, I brought it high above my head. Ensuring I didn’t hit my boyfriend, I beat my uncle squarely on the skull with it—over and over and over again.
“Kacey!” Within seconds Jessie had me tackled to the couch, securing my rage next to his chest—but I wasn’t done. I wanted to ensure he was no longer breathing, and then some.
“I hate him! I hate him, Jessie!”
“I know…I know. He can’t hurt you anymore.”
Tight to his chest, the office spun in a maddened fury. Nothing made sense, but a feeling of liberation was inching its way into me just the same, and then—
“Oh my god! Kacey…we killed him!”
“What?” I heard his words, yet absorbing them was something impossible at this point. Standing in unison from the couch, I looked at one of my nightmares, fragile and every bit as human as I. “No, Jessie. I killed him.”
Curiously I gazed upon the lifeless body of the man that had taken so much from me…and now he was nothing—less than lifeless.
“No…Kacey we’re in this…we did this.”
Staring at the carnage, the splatter all about us and the office of lies and deceit, I felt a certain sense of relaxation in my destruction. My walls were as fractured as I was, and now I no longer had to reinforce them—they could crumble with me.
“How long has this been…how long has he been hurting you?”
He knew—he finally knew and now I was left to tell him everything. The parts I couldn’t put into words, he would have to formulate himself. “Dammit!”
“Talk to me, Kacey. I’m not going anywhere.”
“We came here to get away from it…”
“Get away from what?”
“My grandfather!”
“No…oh my god, no.” Expelling any reflection of emotion, Jessie’s face went flaccid—this was too much. I was too much.
“Yes…Jessie. Mom found out after my dad died. So we moved here so my uncle could help me. Like father like son.”
“Come here.” Reaching his arms up, he embraced me.
“I’m glad he’s dead, Jessie! I’m so glad he’s dead…”
“We’re is no much trouble, Kacey.”
“I’m in trouble, Jess…not you.”
“No, Kacey. We’re in this together…no matter what.” His words were nonsense to me at this point—like an eight year old making college plans for the following year. This wasn’t him. This was all me.
“I’m going to Louisiana.”
“What?”
“I’m going to Louisiana.”
“What…what’s in Louisiana?”
“Him.”
“You’re going after your grandfather? Kacey you can’t we’re in trouble as it is—”
“My life is over, Jessie!” Pushing him away from me, I understood attempting to make him understand was impossible—I didn’t even understand. “This is going to be all over the news. All of my darkest secrets are going to be out there for everyone to read about.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“You can’t.”
“You can’t stop me.”
“This doesn’t end well for us, Jessie.”
“Look at us, Kacey…it was never going to end well for us. Any progress I’ve supposedly made is now bullshit. My head is screwed completely. Thinking I could ever be normal was just stupid…I am the stupidest person you’ve ever met.”
“No…you’re not. You’re my boyfriend and you’re the only person I really love.”
“Okay…we leave our phones, we take the Mustang, and we leave now.
“Okay.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Light brown hair—tousled in the wind above his squinted bloodshot eyes. His eyes ached for the past. Yesterday he may have longed for six years ago, but today I’m certain he’d sacrifice all but eternity if we could only rewind twenty-four hours.
If I could’ve pried his grip from the steering wheel long enough to pry the thoughts from his beautifully vulnerable mind I would…but his desperation was obvious at this point as his knuckles lacked any pigmentation—blanched white atop the wheel.
The act of murder was surprisingly sobering. My mind was no longer liquid as we tore down some dirt road a mere twenty minutes south of the ‘Welcome to Mississippi’ sign.
Each time Jessie looked toward his jeans or his shoes and captured a glimpse of the dried blood splatter spread all about them it seemed to set his emotions swirling in a chaotic frenzy—one that I wasn’t quite on par with. I’d intentionally left the burgundy blood specks displayed on the back of my hands as a beautifully orchestrated reminder—he was dead; my prestigious uncle was dead.
His body, cold and intrusive, could have long before been broken and diminished. I could have stopped him before this; I could have spared Jessie. It wasn’t until Jessie first drew blood that I realized Patrick Cline wasn’t an invincible being—above the law and my fractured psychology. I knew he was full of shit. He was always so clinical, but in the back of my broken mind I knew—he was abusive. He was more than fractured; and now he was completely obliterated.
It was when he was done with me—the way he would hug me and kiss me on top of my head. His scent. All of it was so awkwardly familiar. His mannerisms matched those of my father’s, at least the normal ones did. He poisoned my love for my father—not entirely, but certain scents, words, and fatherly gestures I will now associate with both of them rather than my dad.
I loved the specks—brilliant burgundy specks. They weren’t the autograph of my favorite actor, author, or singer, but I wished I could live my life without washing them away just the same.
Back to his hair, and his eyes. I wanted to comfort Jessie, but I wasn’t su
re how to even approach the situation. I knew for certain that leaving him at the next gas station would be the best thing for him, but the thought of driving away from him pained me greatly. The way each emotion was blatantly displayed on his flawless face made it difficult to breathe and not consider myself a life-sucking wretch. I should have never smiled at him. I should have hurt him harder. I should have hurt him with all I had but I couldn’t. I love him—and now he’s sinking with me and I’m too damn selfish to let go. I have to let go; I have to let him surface.
Occasionally he’d seem to have difficulty inhaling as if he were on the verge of a complete collapse. Thoughts of comforting him were invaded with the thoughts of harming my grandfather. His body had been intrusive too. He’d hurt me at a much earlier age. The gas can in the trunk of the Mustang kept tickling my imagination. I pictured my grandfather’s screams if I were to set him ablaze. The thoughts were quickly followed by a feeling of disgust as my grandfather was all but an invalid. I knew I’d be gentle, but I would end his days sooner than he’d expected. My hands would hurt him the way his hurt me—only I would not stick around to comfort him afterword. I wouldn’t be there to wipe tears and make pacts not to tell.
I was torn. I knew what I was and what I would forever be; Jessie was not that. Jessie was a young man in mourning—not a murderer. He didn’t kill my uncle, I did.
The emotions coupled with the adrenaline sent us soaring from reality and into some maddened idea—some wildly concocted plan that wasn’t plan at all.
Reality was quick to follow and I was left to watch it tear away at what was left of my boyfriend’s fragile psychology. The tears seemed to be dancing behind his eyelids, begging for release—I had to release them; I had to hurt him harder.
“Pull over!” He jumped slightly at the ferocity of my voice.
“What?” his voice cracked as he looked to me.
“Please…pull over, Jessie.”