by V. Murphy
When I suddenly realized where I was, I felt like I was choking on my own tongue trying to scream but knowing that if I started I would be punished.
“I told you to stay in bed you stupid fucking slut,” he barreled at me with two glasses of water in his hand, “I was trying to be nice and get you a glass of water, but there you go disobeying me again.”
His hands rose as he dumped the ice-cold water down my face sending an innate shiver through my spin. I huddled on the bed, not wanting to make a peep in case something more was going to come of this. Instead, I grabbed my knees and pulled them into my chest holding tightly hoping whatever punishment I was about to incur would end quickly.
Just as the large figure approached, he screamed, “I was just trying to be nice to you. I fuck you all good and tell you to lay in bed while I get you some water and you can’t listen to me. Why won’t you just let me take care of you?”
His body came running towards me rushing to sit next to me on the lumpy mattress, which was stained with pale yellow and brown spots around it.
“I’m sorry, I was just really thirsty,” I peeped out still very much aware that my throat was cracked and dry craving some water.
“Why won’t you ever just let me take care of you?” He repeated over and over until his hands started shaking next to mine. I glanced down at his hands moving towards mine and noticed the small blue and pale yellow bruises spotted along my arms. I looked up towards my shoulder and noticed a baseball size bruise that was purple, which indicated a fresh bruise.
When he noticed I was looking at the damage done on my arms, his hands started to move towards my wrist and tears rolled down his face, but his expression never once faltered from the anger he displayed earlier.
“You deserved them, you know? It’s your fault they’re there. I would have never done that to you ever if you didn’t push me there.” He kept repeating these phrases over and over again still clutching the glass in his hand.
“You are just a stupid bitch for bringing this up again. I thought maybe we could move on. I never wanted to hurt you.”
Every time he repeated one of these phrases, his voice raised an octave. He was drowning my thoughts in my head with his voice; pushing me down emotionally. My brain suddenly clicked off and anything I was thinking shut down knowing all too well something bad was on the verge.
As a blank slate covered my own thoughts, masking them from both the outside world and myself, a large arm hovered over my head with a small 8oz glass in hand.
Suddenly, there was an earth-shattering screech as the glass fell from his hand and broke onto my chest and legs. Pieces of glass were thrown from opposite ends as the pressure of the glass erupted. It was like someone placed a bomb next to me and set it off. The shards of glass ripped through my skin as I embraced the pain that was about to set in. I never uttered a word, but curled in dire distress.
Once the glass settled into my skin, I started extracting shiny bubbles of shard. I noticed blood that seemed to stream down from my navel towards my legs. Fortunately, most of the glass broke when it hit the floor but there were patches of blood that were incurred in battle. As the blood started to puddle on the stained mattress, I noticed him standing in the corner crying violently and shaking as if he was having a seizure.
I went to move my left leg, but a piece of glass fractured deep down in the muscle and the unbearable ache of the broken and stuck glass was too much too bear. I had to find something that would allow me to go deep into the wound and extract the glass.
I searched almost desperately for something that would allow me to take the glass out that didn’t require me moving much on my left leg. I finally found a pair of dirty scissors in the wooden nightstand drawer.
I leveled the scissors square with the wound and grabbed the mattress with my left hand as I dug the scissors deep into the wound. There was an undeniable agony that erupted like a volcano when I dug around for the piece of glass, but I had to be sure to take the glass out as a whole to prevent going to the hospital. When I was able to locate it I grabbed it with the scissors and yanked it out letting out a small whimper, hoping that he wouldn’t hear it and start screaming again.
When I pulled out the small shard of glass, I realized that I was unable to be sad or angry with him. Someone just knocked an entire glass at me as it broke around my chest and legs, yet somehow I still felt bad for the little boy in the corner who was unable to control his anger. I was able to grab some paper towels and wipe down some of the blood, which was now a short and slow stream.
I walked over to him and he trembled underneath my touch. He was on the floor in fetal position clenching himself as tears of regret seeped down his face. He wasn’t crying for me or for what he had done. He was crying because in his selfish way he knew I would feel sorry for him.
And he was right. I did feel sorry for him. I wanted to comfort him and console him. I wanted to tell him that everything would be okay. I wanted to make him feel better before I fixed myself. He commanded my attention first, and so I gave it to him.
Small whimpers escaped his voice as he cried over the pain he was causing me, frightened that his actions would have consequences. He needed that reassurance from me that everything would be alright. I am too broken to not comfort him. Maybe next time it will be different…
I opened his arms and crawled into his body and tangled with him in a blood embrace on the brown, moldy, and smelly carpet.
***
“Harper! Shit, Harper, wake up!” A booming voice bellowed over me as I struggled to open my eyes, disoriented from what just happened. As my eyelids struggled to flutter open, I begin to notice small pools of blood around my hands seeping into my light pink sheets. My eyes viciously sprang open to find the source of the blood and realized that I had marks all across my wrists as if someone skidded across them with their car, except these marks were done by my own two hands.
I struggled to make sure it wasn’t the man from my dreams in my room and sighed deep in relief when I noticed it was Ryder who was now desperately running to get towels from the bathroom.
I felt disoriented from the entire situation, not sure of what the appropriate response was suppose to be. On one hand, I knew I was supposed to display the appropriate amount of fear and trepidation that came from slitting your own wrists with your own hands, but I felt nothing but complete numbness. I wasn’t sad or even concerned that blood continued to pour in trickles out of my wrists.
Moreover, I was worried that somewhere Ryder was bringing about these nightmares from my past. Moments of my life that I have never relived, nor wanted to, had finally broken apart as soon as I met Ryder.
Hurriedly, I panicked and looked down at my legs to notice the small little square that was now scared over. I slowly traced the scar with my bloody wrists remembering that time years ago.
“What the fuck are you doing? You’re getting blood all over the place Harper.” He was angry, not because of what I had just done to myself, but because he wasn’t sure of how to respond or what to do to make everything better. He began to methodically wipe the towel over my wrists as I held them out towards him. As he slowly wiped away the evidence of my past from me I started to feel a spark inside my body. The memories of my past were moving towards my mind and turning on the stuff I had worked so desperately hard to turn off.
My heart began to race and suddenly I realized that being close to Ryder and connecting with him in such a way wasn’t going to be easy, not that I expected it to, but being with him would unleash my feelings, thoughts, and emotions. Being close to Ryder was going to be the hardest thing I would have to go through and I wasn’t sure if I wanted that battle to be fought.
I quickly pushed him away while he was bathing me, slowly bringing the washcloth to my face and wiping away my tears.
“You don’t have to come to my rescue,” I mumbled as he began to wipe my cheeks and forehead.
“I want to Harper,” was all that came out of his mouth.
“Please stop. I am begging you. You have to leave,” I cried trying to force him away and off my bed.
“I will never leave you…ever. You’re too beautiful and broken for me to just walk away and never look back.”
I was getting angry because he didn’t get it. He didn’t understand that by staying here with me he was actually hurting me more. The two times I had seen him were the two times I experienced nightmares of my past. I didn’t want to relive those moments again so I tucked them away in a neat little box in my head, but why now? Why did I have to deal with this now? I left home because no one wanted to deal with me. I left home because my parents didn’t believe it was possible their innocent daughter could have done what she did. I vowed over and over again to myself and to my grandpa that I would never ever allow myself to become that person again. And here I was, becoming that person and reliving those moments with a man I hardly knew.
“You don’t get it,” I uttered in a hush tone, “you can’t be here, not because there isn’t a part of me that wants you here, but because you are killing me slowly.”
His face dropped and a look of utter disappointment and pure pain fell across his face. He shuffled with the washcloth in his hand, not sure of what to say. He mumbled a few inaudible words, but he looked nervous.
Finally, when he was able to speak something that I could understand he said in a hushed tone, “There is only one woman out there other than you that I truly love with all my heart.”
“Evelyn?” I interrupted.
“Yes. She is the light of my life. Harper, I don’t even know you and you’re the second woman on that list. Evelyn is irreplaceable.”
I was shocked that he actually uttered her name from his lips.
“But you, you’re something else. You have this beauty that comes from within you and my god, you are the most amazingly stunning woman I have ever seen on this planet. Your body curves in the right places and your mind is something I desperately want to explore. You, Harper, are something that words cannot describe, something that makes me want to live life like it was suppose to be lived. Someone who makes me want to forget about everything that has ever gone wrong and create a new path for myself…for us.”
Tears started welling in my eyes and I quickly tried to blink them away. There was no denying that Ryder was going to make a mark in my life regardless of whether or not I wanted him to. He was going to captivate me. I don’t think I could continue thinking that he was just a good lay for me. He meant more to me now than just a fuck. He had witnessed two nightmares and had helped me through them. I was scared out of my mind. I couldn’t do this.
“You just don’t seem to get it Ryder. I cannot be near you because you bring out something inside of me that I don’t want to revive. I want it to go back where it came from; deep within me, not to be touched or remembered again.”
He started to interrupt me as I spoke but I quickly hushed him and continued, “The last two times I’ve been with you, I have had to deal with memories of my past; memories of things you cannot fathom could ever happen to a person. I am not who you think I am Ryder. I am a vulnerable person who falls into whatever someone is telling and in the past I became someone I am not proud of, someone I never want to become again.”
“If you want to do something to benefit my sanity you’ll leave. You’ll walk away and never look back.”
“I can walk away from you Harper, I can leave you for good and never speak to you again, but I will never ever forget you. You will haunt my dreams and be the center of all my thoughts. So it’s not worth it, I’m here to stay and I’ll be by your side this entire journey we take…together.”
“Aren’t you scared? Look at me. I am dragging my fingernails across my wrists ripping my skin apart because of these nightmares.”
“Nothing scares me about you Harper. I told you this before; there is something deep down inside of you waiting to come out. I want to be there when you want to tell your story. I want to be the one to listen to it and help you through whatever mess it is that happened in your past.”
I shuffled with my fingers, messing up the polish knowing that Skye would have a heart attack if she knew I ruined my manicure.
I needed him here with me. I craved the comfort he provided and yearned the moments where I was weak and just wanted to cuddle with him. As much as it pained me to say, I needed Ryder now, more than ever.
“Just…stay…with me,” I said breathlessly and curled up next to him in the crook of his neck. His body was emitting a warm comfortable heat and I made a mental note that his arms were muscular enough to support my head without being uncomfortable or falling asleep oddly. I curled up with my back against his chest and he wrapped his arms tightly around me.
Suddenly, I heard a sweet melodic tone coming from him. A gentle lullaby being hummed so effortlessly and quietly as he raked his hands gently through my hair. It was as if he was rocking me to sleep and telling me that everything in the world would be right again. All at once, darkness engulfed my mind and sleep crept towards me. I was erased by the night and fell asleep quietly in his arms, not waking once.
***
Once the morning started peeping through the holes in the curtains of my room, my eyes awoke frantically searching for Ryder, begging him to leave because the consequences of last night were emotionally and physically draining. My arms felt loose like Jell-O and my wrists were still red and puffy from the areas where I scratched them. My legs felt tight and the muscles were contracting, which was painful to walk on. However, the worst thing about the morning was the pounding headache that I woke up with. It felt like tiny little men in my head banging on the sides to get out.
I wanted to beg him to leave so that I wouldn’t be forced to wake up to another morning feeling this drained. My heart, figuratively, felt heavy. I was filled to the top with emotions and sadness. It felt as though my heart was full and was about to tip over and spill the depression that seeped into my soul.
Fortunately, Ryder was not in bed next to me when I finally oriented myself to the morning. Once again, he left the morning after a night of hurt and pain. He was probably scared or completely freaked out by the display of crazy he saw last night.
I got out of bed to check the living room, but found it stark clean with the sheets folded on the couch and the pillows in stacked next to it. Quickly, I remembered last time this happened, so I checked the kitchen fridge to see if there was a note on the door. Alas, I found a small pink note from my notepad I had laying on my desk with small cursive writing that very clearly resembled a man’s handwriting.
Harper,
I didn’t leave because I was scared, I left because Evelyn needed me. I plan on taking you out on a proper date tonight. I know you don’t have work so don’t even use that excuse on me (Rita told me). We are going out to a proper restaurant with white linens, so please dress appropriately. Use this to help pick out an outfit. I’m sorry I don’t have the time today to help you pick something out, but you would be beautiful in a garbage bag for all I care.
I am so excited to see you.
7:00pm
Ryder
Next to the note was three one-hundred dollar bills folded together. I wasn’t sure if I should be offended at this grand gesture or if I should take it as is. I decided that I should call Skye because I wanted to talk to her about last night and even more so because she hated when men paid for her as well,so she would know what I should do with this. Not to mention she is always down for a good shopping trip.
I whipped out my phone from my room while throwing a pair of slim jeans over my hips and a v-neck tee.
“Ohmigod! Harper Mae! You slut!”
“What are you talking about Skye?”
“I am standing outside your house this morning at like 9am and I see this beautiful man walking out. So here I am thinking to myself that you’re a little slut because I really am rooting for Team Ryder and then I recognize the beautiful black hair and chiseled face a
nd guess what I realized?” Before I had a chance to even respond she says, “It’s freaking Ryder!”
Her voice is a clear syllable higher when she pronounced Ryder, as if she is sincerely giddy with joy about her detective skills.
“Well, about that….it’s a long story. Want to come over?”
“I’m at your door silly, I told you I was here.”
Shit, what time was it? I glanced at the clock and realized it was only 9:45. That must have meant Ryder had snuck out right before I woke up. There was a part of me that really wished I had woken up a few hours early and cherished those sweet moments with him. Maybe he had to go to work, but what would Evelyn have to do with that?
It was decided. Tonight I would have to ask him about Evelyn, but then again how would I like it if he asked me about my past? How would I even begin to explain my story to him? I left home with a trust fund and one person that believed in me? I left home after being forced out of the family by my own parents? I left home because I had a record?
That would be some dinner conversation.
There was a loud bang on the door and I realized that Skye was here. When I opened up, she donned two iced coffees and her blonde hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail. She was pretending to do the oh-excuse-me-I-just-got-out-of-bed look, but she looked presumptuously stunning and had a full face of makeup on so there was no way she just simply rolled out of bed.
“Good morning sunshine!” She barreled into my apartment shoving herself on the couch but not before noticing the extra blankets and pillows still stacked on the table.
“Oh please tell me he wasn’t sleeping on the couch? What is wrong with you?”
“He didn’t, well I mean he kind of did. It’s a long story and I really need to talk to you about it…seriously.”