Fragments (Running On Empty Book 1)

by M Field

  The parishioners began to stand and come towards us to offer condolences. I felt too stiff to acknowledge them so I nodded, unclenched my fists, and shook hands while remaining seated. I could barely make eye contact. My mother's sobs began to deepen and while the right thing to do would have been to put my arm around her, I couldn't. I felt trapped, like a caged animal.

  One by one, more people offered their condolences, and I realised that living away for almost two years had shown that not much had changed. I was at war with myself. I took a moment to run my hands through my hair, begging for this moment to end. The sooner we got through the crowd, the sooner we could go. I needed to go for a run or something to calm the fuck down.

  Finally, my heart began to unfreeze when the Vera family came closer. I stood for them only. Robbie embraced me in a tight bro-hug and a wordless slap to the back, followed by a solid handshake from his father. Felicia, though, pulled me to her chest in a nurturing hug. Our unspoken conversation of "Are you all right?" "No, I'm fucking not" was held in our embrace.

  She stepped to the side and I looked up to see Bea standing there. My breath momentarily caught in my throat—it had been a while since I’d seen her, and she was still living up to her nickname.

  A sense of calm began to drift down my spine as I stared at her. Bea stepped forward and as she went to shake my hand, I pulled her tear-stained cheeks towards me and clutched her close. She gasped rubbing my back in soothing circular motions. I was instantly the calmest that I had been for a long time. Against me, we were bound by this moment. Her lips grazed my cheek towards my ear and I heard a gentle, “I'm so sorry Alex."

  I closed my eyes and held her closer. Those four words broke me. She was sorry, and it rendered my heart in jagged pieces. I whispered, "Thank you for being here." My voice was barely recognisable as it broke with emotion.

  I let her go and watched her walk away. I was aware of other people standing there, but I wanted to hold onto this feeling of calm—I knew that as soon as I was home, I would feel anything but.

  My mother sniffed next to me, and I was drawn back into the present. As the congregation continued to offer their condolences, I felt less angry. I shook hands and received kisses on my cheeks, while managing to not clench my fists. Before too long, we were on our way home.

  * * * * *

  I clasped Lily’s hand as we made our way to the front door. She had barely spoken about Dad’s death, but her hand squeezed mine tightly. We followed Mum in and stopped dead in our tracks. Every photo or memory was out for all to see. She’d opened up all her photo albums and had scattered them around the lounge and dining room in an eerie tribute to Dad. Wherever I looked, his malevolent face grinned back at me.

  “What the fuck is going on?” I gestured at the room. “You out of your fucking mind?”

  My mother sobbed as she clasped their wedding photo to her chest.

  “He was all I had. I need to remember the good times.” She gazed down, staining the photo in her hands.

  Next to me, Lily turned into my side and wrapped her arms around me. “No,” she sobbed, “I can’t deal with this, Alex. I can’t see his face.”

  I pulled Lily to my room and away from our mother. She had chosen to turn the house into a museum of the dead.

  “Alex.” Lily’s eyes were pained as she glanced up at me. “I don’t want to remember him. How can she forget? I just ... want it all gone.”

  “She was never there when he hurt us, Lily. She huddled in the corner and lived in her little world of denial.” I held her close and rubbed up and down her back. The door burst open and in came our mother, carrying another image.

  “Oh, look!” She smiled, actually smiled, “Here’s a photo of your father and I when we were

  dating. Look how carefree we look there. He was rescuing injured native animals and bringing them into the vet. It was so romantic!”

  My grip tightened on Lily. I could barely look at my mother. The husband she described seemed so distant from the father we knew. Part of me wondered if it was the grief talking, or if the story was even real.

  “He was a wonderful man,” she gushed as she left my room.

  “Fuck, she has lost it,” I mumbled. “Wonderful man? Is she talking about someone else?”

  “I think that I’ll be hiding in my room until we leave, Al. Or I’ll set all those photos on fire,” Lily whispered. She was not wrong.

  She left for her room, leaving me to tear my suit off. Seeing all those photos in our living room made my collar feel tighter. Tearing off the suit, I felt the air enter my lungs again.

  I was still tense; I needed to go for a run or something. Clenching my eyes shut, I blocked out his face. Why was I not sad? My breathing began to escalate so I dug around my drawers until I found something to run in. After finding a pair of shorts and an old T-shirt, I threw them on, tied up my laces on my Vans, and headed to the door, clutching my MP3 player. Lily was by the kitchen bench, making a cup of tea while texting on her phone. She looked up and saw me, offering me a weak grimace. I walked up to her, and instantly, she folded herself into my arms again. We had lost so much time together. She’d left for university and barely came to visit. We stood there for a moment, leaning into each other before I stepped back and patted her shoulder, turning towards the door. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything. I just needed to get the fuck out of here. I needed … Bea.

  Shaking my head, I plugged my MP3 player into my ears and ran until my lungs couldn’t take anymore. Anything to feel something other than anger. The pain was welcome as it gave me something else to focus on. I leant against the large gum tree and looked out to the river. Before I could stop myself, I was drawn back to a memory of when I was younger.

  “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” he yelled. “You can’t get away from me, you little shit; the river is in the way.”

  Panicked, I looked behind me and he was right. He was going to get me again. All because I accidentally dropped his beer bottle and refused to get him another one because he was already wasted.

  His steps gained on me as I continued running towards the river, and I was winded from the stress. I felt scared, weak, and helpless. As he continued to get closer, I made a gut decision to jump into the river and start swimming for the other side. I’d been swimming in this river since I was a kid, and I didn’t look behind me as I dove in and glided under the water until my lungs could no longer take it. I’d gotten good at holding my breath while under. Waterlogged tree trunks were protruding up, so I held onto one and I hoped he had given up and turned away. I didn’t have the energy to swim back from the other side. I waited a moment longer and then slowly broke through the surface. He stumbled away, clearly bored by the chase. I trod water for a moment longer before swimming back to the shoreline. Sitting on the bank, I put my head on my knees and cried.

  Shaking those thoughts away, I tilted my head back and head butted the tree to rid myself of the memories. He’s gone now, I told myself. But why am I still frightened? Disappointment filled my mind as I considered that even though I had started defending myself, I’d never been able to stop him properly. I needed to get back to Melbourne before I really lost my shit.

  Later that night, as I lay on my bed with my arms behind my head, rain was lightly falling against the windowpane and my foot tapped with the beat of the raindrops. I was restless, and I needed to get out. I picked up my phone and before I could stop myself, began texting the one person who I knew could centre my tension. I was momentarily afraid that she would ignore me because I’d been such a dick, but I hoped that after today she wouldn’t. I was an arsehole, I knew that, but I needed her.

  Me: Are you awake? I need to see you.

  Bea: I'm in bed. You okay?

  My gut clenched as she showed concern that I don’t deserve.

  Me: Can I come over?

  Please don’t look desperate.

  Bea: I have an early start, sorry.

  She was still harbouring
resentment, which burned me, but what did I expect after pushing her away? I knew it was what I deserved, but right now, I couldn’t leave it alone. I needed those eyes on me. I needed her to reassure me. I just needed her. So, selfish bastard that I was, I grabbed my jacket and put on my sneakers. Slipping my phone into my jacket pocket, I headed out the front door and began running to Bea's house. If I had to beg for her forgiveness, I would. If I could mend this friendship, I would. A soulless man could hope, right?

  I quietly climbed the stairs and walked along the porch to her window. The rain had gradually soaked my jeans and I shivered, but I was undeterred. I climbed the tree carefully and lightly tapped her window. Just as I was about to get my phone, she drew back her curtain and her eyes widened to see me standing there. So am I, Bea-Bea.

  She gestured for me to wait and I watched as she fiddled with the lock on her window before drawing it up slowly. I took in her appearance. Her legs were bare; she was just wearing a band T-shirt, The Smashing Pumpkins. I ran my eyes down her body, down her legs and up again. My heartbeat picked up when our eyes met. We stood there, staring at each other for a few beats before the wind whirled past and sent another shiver down my spine. She stood to the side so that I could climb through her window. I kicked off my sodden shoes, and quietly brought my legs into her room.

  Looking around, her room hadn’t changed much. A few posters were different, but it was still Bea. Her rocking chair, with its perfect view out the window, was covered in books and clothes, and I looked up to see that photo frames still lined the shelf. Stepping closer, I saw photos of her and her friends, along with the few she had of Robbie, her, and me when we were little. There was one of her in the middle blowing out her birthday candles, with Robbie, myself, and Lily all eagerly looking at the cake. The photo that took my breath away, though, was from her sixteenth birthday. The three of us were hanging out in the lounge room and Robbie and I were tickling her. All three of us were laughing really hard, but instead of looking like freaks with our mouths open, it was actually an excellent photo. Robbie leaned over the back of the couch, and I was next to her on the cushions. While Robbie looked down at her, Bea and I were laughing while looking directly at each other. It was a really happy moment. It filled me with sadness and regret to remember that, just a couple of months later, I left without saying goodbye.

  “How could I forget how important you were to me, Bea?”

  It was barely a whisper, but she heard me and moved closer, standing by my side as we both gazed at the photo. All of my happiest memories were connected to her family; connected to her.

  “When I moved away, I was leaving my shitty home life. What I didn’t realise was that I was leaving you and your family behind, too. I don’t deserve your friendship, Bea. I’m a selfish arsehole.”

  She blinked up at me and slid her arms around my waist. “You’re not selfish. You were trying to survive.”

  Not one tear was shed during my father’s funeral, but now, now I could feel them running down my face and I was powerless to stop them.

  “I’m so angry at him. I never got to tell him that he was a shitty father, or even get him some help so he could be a good father.”

  The salty tears landed at the corner of my lips but I didn’t want to let go of Bea to wipe them away.

  “What son doesn’t cry at his own father’s funeral? I’m a monster, like him; a piece of shit just like he said.”

  I was pushed back suddenly and Bea confronted me with the most intense stare I’d ever seen.

  “Don’t you dare” she hissed quietly, “even think of saying that bullshit again. You are not a monster. For fuck’s sake, he beat the living shit out of you on a regular basis. You can be as angry as you like!” She continued to glare at me while putting her hands on her hips.

  “If you think for one moment that you should feel guilt, then think again. You were the son Alex; he was meant to love and nurture you. But he didn’t. You need to let go of your guilt and deal with it, release it. You are not him. You are the best guy I know and if I hear you say that shit about being a monster again, I will nuke your balls!”

  The last sentence was barely out of her mouth when I reached out and grabbed her. Pulling her close to me, I placed my hands on either side of her face and stared into her eyes. Her fury was still there and it spurred me on. Her words, her actions, ignited me in a way that I hadn’t felt in a long time, and I felt alive. Her eyebrows rose in confusion, but before she could ask me what I was doing, I leant forward and placed my lips against hers. She was soft and tasted like toothpaste. I held onto her face as my lips touched hers again and I gently swiped my tongue along her bottom lip.

  She jolted back and stared up at me. For a split second, I worried that I might have overstepped the boundary, but she smiled, grabbed the collar of my wet shirt and pulled me closer, slamming her lips against mine. Our mouths meshed and I felt the heat rise into my shoulders as I drew her closer. My tongue danced with hers as I tried desperately to get as close to her as I could. Our chests were pressed together and I could feel my heart thumping with anticipation. Each kiss, each stroke of her tongue against mine sent a signal right to my core. I wanted her. I craved her. The need was something I had never felt before. For once, this didn’t feel like I was just using someone as a distraction. It felt like I should have never strayed from her. Like I was coming home.

  The raindrops cascaded outside and the soft echo created a soundtrack to the beat of our kisses. Soft and frantic, yet somehow slow and intense. She felt like a slow burn that was building up to reach inside of me. I kissed away from her lips and along her jaw to below her ear. She sighed as I continued kissing along her neck. Her grip tightened on my shoulder as I kissed back to her lips. I couldn’t get enough of her taste. She intoxicated me. I tilted my head back and stopped kissing her to take a moment. It was too intense; I needed to gain control back. I looked into her eyes and saw them full of emotion that mirrored what was in my heart. I knew that I wasn’t worthy of that look, but I felt so damaged that I’d take it. Leaning forward, I brushed my lips again softly against hers.

  Her gaze was as intense as mine. I don’t deserve you, I thought, but I need you.

  My feet had a mind of their own, and I began gently leading her towards her bed. I didn’t want to push but my body had other plans. If she resisted, I’d walk away, but if she wanted me like I wanted her … there was nothing that would stop me. I was at her mercy. We stood by her bed and the kissing intensified. I felt her fingers loosen from my shoulders and begin drawing patterns along the wet fabric of my shirt. Her touch relaxed me, yet turned me on. I moaned into her mouth as she continued drawing endless patterns up and down my spine. A touch of cold air against my hip tickled as she dragged the hem of my shirt up. Not wanting to stop kissing her, I pulled away last minute to yank ferociously at my top, tearing it over my head and throwing it at my feet. Without kissing me again, she reached forward and lifted my undershirt over my head, leaving me bare-chested and breathing heavily. Her gaze was on me, tracing my skin with her eyes. I was at the cliff’s edge, waiting to leap but still unsure where she would be taking me. Jump with me, Bea-Bea. Jump.

  Her hand reached out and with her fingers, she traced under my neck and down my chest, each finger leaving a trail of heat. I had to hold my legs with my hands to stop touching her. I knew that if I did, it could be over too soon. As she traced my skin, I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. My body felt like a coil, twirling and tightening and ready to leap. She removed her hands from my skin and I opened my eyes. She moved her hands to her T-shirt hem and slowly drew the material up and over her head. I was in a trance. She was there, standing in front of me, in just her black panties. Her creamy soft skin was bare and her breasts heaved with each breath she took.

  “You are stunning,” I whispered. I was transfixed with her body. My eyes drank in her skin and I could barely keep my hands at my sides.

  “Touch me, Alex; I need you to touch me … pleas
e.”

  She shivered as I gently touched her shoulder. My hands moved to her hips and squeezed them. I wanted to take this slowly but I knew once this started, it would be impossible to stop. I needed her too much. I released her hips and gently slid my hands up her sides to her face, down to her neck and eventually to her breasts. I leant forward and began kissing her neck, her shoulder, and as I left gentle kisses along her décolletage, I rubbed and squeezed her breasts, invoking a sigh from her. My lips gently kissed and sucked one breast while my hand squeezed the other, before I devoted the same care to the other side. I was consumed with her taste. As I laved her breasts, her fingers tightened in my hair at the back of my neck, holding me there. The pressure was too much, and I let go and grabbed her face in my hands and kissed her mouth. Her fingers moved to my jeans, slowly undoing the buttons. I let go of her face and held her hands still.

  “Bea, I want you, I’m not going to lie. But, if you don’t want to take this further, please just leave my pants on. I can’t resist you if you take them off.”

  She smiled as she answered me by unzipping my jeans and pushing them off my hips. I was not wearing anything underneath, and heard her gasp as she stared right at me. I leant forward to kiss her lips, to calm her shock of seeing me. I gently moved my hands to her panties, and with a nod, began pulling them down her legs. They reached her ankles and she kicked them off to the side.