I’m... I just need to clear my mind...
So, they let me sleep in, which means when Peter came to take me for the workout I was so tired that he just let me sleep. I had my Breakfast alone and I cannot even remember what it was, how it tasted, not even how much I actually ate. I just know that instead of bringing me to the gym, he must’ve taken my tray and left again.
Yes, Peter is still around and somehow I feel awkward about it. I guess one can understand. I don’t know what I thought, when I kissed him, but I remember clearly, sharply like that knife that metaphorically cut through me, when I felt Jay’s hurt. But still I keep thinking about that little moment Peter and I had.
It’s not entirely his fault, and not entirely White’s because it was me kissing him the second time. Maybe a part of me believed that Peter and Jay are one and the same, which is a truckload of bullshit; they barely look like each other.
Jay is at least two inches taller, well, one maybe, but he is. His hair is light brown and his eyes are dark green with a corroded copper ring around his iris. It’s that color that intensifies and when he... changes.
Peter’s hair is darker, and his black eyes are brown and... now that I think of it, he seems to have that same refurbished copper ring around his iris. That is really the only thing they have in common, apart from their stature maybe. But honestly: Peter looks more like White than like Jay, even with Jay’s warped face, I know... even if Peter’s face would turn into something like Jay’s they wouldn’t look the same.
I don’t know how I managed to sleep till Lunch, not with what had happened the day before, but maybe it’s because sleep is the best way of forgetting, ignoring?
But after Lunch all of the sudden I was wide awake, because I remembered what White had said and that it meant I would see Jay. I was so nervous that I was shaking and nothing, neither hot nor cold water would change that... and I showered really long.
That Peter and Gray were the ones to take me didn’t make it any better, rather worse. I felt like the second time they brought me – which seemed like an eternity ago – but worse, because of Peter. Walking next to him reminded me of the few strolls we had taken here, how normal he had made me feel. And I guess that’s the reason why I kissed him.
Despite nothing about my situation is really normal.
But he made me forget, and now he feels like debris in this nightmare I managed to turn into a dream. I simply couldn’t make myself look at Peter, who did everything in his power to avoid that even his breath touching me.
Eventually I started asking myself if White had told Jay to do something specific, to punish me as well and I realized that I never really had thought about the connection between the two of them. How much control has White over him? Does he have any at all? Was he trying to get control over him through me? Am I just a tool? Is that maybe the only reason why I am here?
Before I knew it, I was in the cage again, stepping inside, hoping that they would chain me, and remembering what White had told me. So when they – much to my relief, though it held just briefly – led me to the chains on the wall, I looked up to the window. Silently I told myself that I had no choice, that if I wanted to be kept safe and treated well, that I had to do this. And still... knowing that I wouldn’t be able to move reminded me of that first time I had been shackled there. Secretly, I hoped that this time it would lessen his anger and his hurt. I had no idea what would happen, how he would react.
I think my heart was pounding so loud that even I would have been able to hear its echo in this room if my blood rushing in my ears had not deafened me. This was terrifying me even more. Yet I felt something else, something lurking beneath my skin, like anticipation.
There was no way of hearing him and I wasn’t able to move anyhow, reminding myself to keep my eyes up to the window, knowing that White was here, watching... no: creeping. This was part of his punishment for me. But whom am I kidding, I knew then too that he was probably taking pleasure from that, and probably he could tell that I wasn’t ignorant of that.
So in truth, that was the punishment.
My skin retreated, straining across my knuckles and bones, my hairs standing up like they were the needles White had punctured me with. It would sound sarcastic to say that it couldn’t get any worse.
Closing my eyes was against my pure instinct as I felt his breath in my hair, right above my ear that was facing towards him. I needed to stay calm and fought against the need to flinch, to move.
Even though I knew he could sense that I was scared, he probably couldn’t tell if I was afraid of him or something else. I had to keep breathing and stay put. I felt like freezing, despite the blaze burning deep inside of me, like a secret that I kept from myself, fighting to break free.
I was sure if I moved too quickly, he would react in some way I wouldn’t want him to. Either hurting me or retreating and both were just beyond all question, because I needed him to forgive me, before I could forgive myself. And yet, I don’t know if I really can... or want to.
Jay didn’t snarl, though I had waited for it, he didn’t purr either, no matter how bad I wanted it. As he plucked at my hair, I managed to open my eyes slowly and despised it the fact that I had to look up, instead of glancing at him.
“I’m sorry”, I exhaled, before I could stop myself and he hesitated, so I added. “I’m so, so sorry.”
I was, I really, truly was, but... I was sorry about how it happened, that White has used what I had done in such a cruel way.
I could not really bring myself to be sorry for kissing Peter and knowing that truly hurts me, even though it makes no sense, no sense at all.
Why can’t they be one and the same?
I wanted Jay to know that I meant him and not White, despite looking up at that horrid window. He just had to know that, but somehow I hoped that White felt addressed to. I felt so sick, so devastated and I was sorry. I still am.
Suddenly I could feel his face in my hair, sense him inhaling my scent, yet it was the only touch. One of his hands passed my face, supporting him against the wall – my eyes still glued to the window – and then there was the other hand wrapping around my stomach, pulling me against him. My eyes flew shut and with my sight the world vanished.
I was devastated and I still feel sick with guilt, for everything. For everything I have done to him and he so easily, willingly forgave me, because I was – I am – all he has. And that I had taken away from him, and I hadn’t even tried to be sorry for my betrayal, for my thievery. I almost had destroyed the only hope he had. This I know, I learned that from this, the way he held me close, without any hint of... that animal White claims him to be.
I know. I know. I know. I know. How can I explain? I can’t. Peter made me feel butterflies, it was warm and comforting and nice. But Jay makes me feel... like an army of ants invading me to dance on my nerves, like birds carrying me, like I am blazing without being burned, safe and strong... like he needs me... desperately.
Call me crazy, but I think I just felt that. And with him not being allowed to talk to me, to tell me... what else is left? What else than talking in a language without words?
“I’m still yours”, I whispered and my eyes opened, fixating on that cursed window, hearing him growl lowly, purring against my cheek and I felt like I was understanding what he meant.
I mean... he was able to see that I looked up, but somehow I knew that he had figured out why, or maybe had been told.
“Do it”, I breathed out hoarsely.
I know! This is insane.
It was insane. It still is.
How can one sense pain without feeling it?
All of it, put itself into a whole picture. Everything about that day – I knew right then – was about me, about me not enjoying this. For whatever reason White didn’t like that I... loved what Jay did to me during these sessions, somehow he knew that it wasn’t breaking me, it did the opposite. And I knew this SOB secretly wanted that I me to feel for him what I really feel for Jay.
“Whatever he told you to do”, I whispered, glaring at that cursed window. “Do it. It’s okay.”
Hesitantly at first, he tore at my top slowly, like it was my second skin, which he didn’t want to rupture it. The sound was far too loud in my ears and yet...
I’m sure that White hadn’t asked for him to take his time, but yet he did... somehow, running his clawed hands across my body, my belly and breast, turning this awful act into something caressingly... before... that.
I knew that I shouldn’t have closed my eyes, but I had to, because he had been so gentle until then, which made me feel even worse. I had expected him to be mad, to be violent and not so... forgiving.
Until...
There is no glimpse of a doubt in any of my cells that White had ordered him to do what Jay did: to pull me backwards that I was barely able to support myself against the wall with my hands, pressing my palms against the concrete, just like the day before. Slowly he dragged his claws down my back, rupturing my skin, creating and leaving a tearing burn, that made me exhale and whimper. Jay would never have done this.
Just like I was forced to look up, White had done something to make Jay hurt me. And I realized that me glancing up at that window was me looking at the real perpetrator.
Down and down my back to my rear. His claws slowly, cruelly sliced through my skin. Three times and not as deep as that day he accidentally hurt me. I wanted to suppress my sounds of pain, but I know that White wanted to hear them. Instead, I gritted my teeth, distorting my expression to a wicked grin, and looked up.
You don’t believe me, I know, no matter how often I will repeat this, but I knew, no, I KNOW that Jay didn’t want to do that to me.
I was sure he was told not to be gentle, and he wasn’t. And I think he wasn’t even able to hold back or restrain himself. The marks of his claws cutting into my flesh and my hips are still hurting. They had drawn blood and I think that this made it so much more difficult for him to hold back. Still... I can’t tell if I liked it or not, just that now I’m so sore. Thinking of it gives me goose bumps and makes me feel... hot.
It was brute, instinctive, animalistic, and in a way it numbed me, the ache of my skin. It knocked out my mind.
I know again why... why I wrote all of this. It’s not just about this, about having sex. It’s about me as well, about him having me. As primitive and misogynist as it sounds.
Like I said: I am the only thing he has, not possesses. I am the only one who actually wants to be there with him. Time and time again, I said that I believe him to be human, that he was human once or maybe still is, in a strange warped, distorted way. And if he truly is, as I believe him to be, then it must be so tormenting, so terrifying to look into a mirror and see a beast.
So, when you despise yourself, how much does someone who does not, mean to you?
Jay needs me, just as much as I need him.
He entered me much too deep and he knew it, still there was no stopping it and I looked up, not being able to bare my teeth anymore. My entire body was giving in.
As he came it almost felt like real fire, even more than that and oh God. I mean, he...
I don’t apologize for anything.
After that, he pulled me up again, pressing me tightly against the wall and I keep wondering if that was part of the punishment, I still have the scratch on my cheek. He held me there, me looking up, his face pressed against mine, inhaling the scent of my skin.
Despite that... it felt good feeling him against my burning, scratched skin, even though his sweat against my ruptured peel seemed like acid.
Time passed.
His hands moved up my sides and for a moment I feared that he would use his claws again, but he didn’t. Instead, he made me whimper as his palms reached my injured hips to move them towards him, forcing my back to arch and my breast to scratch against the wall. His fangs, yes, fangs pierced into my shoulder as he entered me a second time and it burned. Instantly tears gathered in my eyes, and ran down my cheeks.
At least the second time he moved slowly, bringing back, one hand against the wall next to my face and the other one between my legs.
God, I wish I could explain this mixture, how... how the pain melted into that feeling. It was... I don’t know what noises I made, I just know that I lost my voice, sensing his fingers at my weakest spot and him inside me simultaneously.
The memory alone makes my breath turn shallow. Everything melted away, everything that was hurting, burning, and aching faded away into a hot, soothing liquid that was my body.
Day 57
I’m so grateful that they left me alone today; even though I miss... what do I miss? Whom?
I need to shower but everything burns. And the memory of water running across these open marks makes me cringe. I need to help myself but everything aches. I’m a puddle of acid.
When I returned yesterday there was ointment on my table and I make sure that every spot is soaked with that. It helps, but water doesn’t.
And I’ll never forget that eerie expression on White’s face as Jay was gone and he came in to cover me with a bathrobe. I... I don’t really want to write it down. One can imagine that look on his face... even though he acted like he didn’t examine me, every inch of me. No, he wanted and wants to play the good one, despite what had just happened: Two people doing what he had wanted them to.
I am so, so, so relieved that there’s no other smell on me allowed, otherwise who knows what White would do to me. Hopefully Jay and I will never be separated for a long term without White being gone with him as well...
Day 58
Whatever ingredients that ointment they gave me has, it works like a miracle. I guess that was the itching I had to endure through yesterday. It was driving me nuts, so that I slept naked despite everything, because I couldn’t bear sensing the fabric on my skin. And now I have the odd feeling that someone put it on my back once more while I was asleep. ... It would explain what I dreamed.
No one’s going to read it anyhow, right?
It started off... awesome... I shouldn’t be ashamed of it.
So here we go: I dreamed of Jay... being between my legs, like the day I returned after him scarring me. I guess it had felt that amazing in real life as well because why else...? However, I just could see his eyes and I ran my hand through his hair. When he suddenly looked up and... It was Peter. Okay, I know dreaming is the voice of your sub-consciousness and yes, of course I would hope that they are one and the same person. I wrote that before, but I just know that it’s not the case. There is no way that Peter’s appearance would warp that extremely.
However... he moved up to kiss me and as he pulled back all of the sudden it was... White.
“You really think it’s that easy?” he asked and his hands ran up my body, across my skin until he reached my neck and started to choke me, while he... entered me.
I stood up straight in my bed.
This is just crazy. I think this is what happens when you’re not part of a social system, when the one in charge really is in charge, of everything, especially your own life. White came to visit me after Breakfast. Earlier than I had expected to be taken to my workout, which was why I was in the bathroom trying to take care of my scratches. Because of that I was barely fast enough to cover myself with my T-shirt. He obviously didn’t mind. Instead, he stepped next to me and took the ointment. I froze. He just really started to put the stuff onto my back. As he spoke, he sounded oddly casual: “How did you know?”
Of course I was confused about this question; I had expected him to say something sleazy about the day before yesterday but then this. However, he figured out by the way I looked at him through the mirror, that I had no clue.
“His name”, White explained calmly, too calm for my taste and my body betrayed me with goose bumps.
Yet, I figured that he didn’t want me to know how he felt about it. And then it dawned on me what or rather he meant: “His name?” I repeated, just to clarify for myself, th
ough I still wasn’t sure.
“Jay”, the man in the mirror gave me a dark glance, which was not an annoyed one.
This look... it was terrifying, like getting a glimpse into his mind through the black pupils fixating on me. Into this black abyss that was White, with all its ugliness and evil thoughts. Like he perfectly knew the effect of this glance, like he wanted to intimidate me into giving up all my secrets or sources.
Was he thinking that I was an implant?
“I... I...?” I heard myself stammer, “How?” being unable to look away, like a prey in countenance of death.
“You said his name”, White stayed calm, though he was speaking lower than I was used to, and I remembered, more like I was recalling a dream, or some lost time of a night being far too drunk.
It was so far away that I couldn’t tell whether it had been a dream or imagination. The memory alone gave me chills and I could picture myself, heard myself exhaling out the name I thought I had created for myself, while he...
“How did you know?” now I could hear a slight tremble in his tone alarming me that he was losing his patience.
“I just... ”, I answered, clawing my fingers into the fabric I held to my chest, covering me; “You named him Ten. Jay is the tenth letter of the alphabet. There are few male names I know starting with the letter J, so I didn’t really try to pick one and went with the obvious. I just... needed to have a name for him.”
The words tumbled out of my mouth and while they did, I literally could watch White’s face lighten up.
“So just a coincidence”, he smiled slightly, which was maybe even more terrifying, still I nodded eagerly.
“Walk with me”, he said, and before I could say something he had taken my bathrobe from the wall and placed it around me, holding my shoulders to move me alongside with him, and also showing that he wouldn’t take “No” for an answer.
The Beast And Me Page 11