Do Unto Others
Chapter 7
Note: All past happenings are in italics.
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Justin…
My hand makes contact with the side of his face and he laughs; a long, loud, hideous laugh that chills me to my bones. I feel his foot make contact with the inside of my thigh and I wonder, for just a moment, when was the last time I was in so much pain.
I don't have to wait long.
I don't sleep. If the images are this vivid while I'm awake I can only imagine what would happen if I close my eyes and give my mind over to my dreams.
I lay here, staring at the ceiling and listening to Brian as he breathes. I want him to wake up and wrap his arms around me, but I know that when he touches me my body will start to shake.
I hate that my skin crawls around him. I hate it even more that he notices. "Justin," Brian says, shattering my silent world. I don't want to hear anything. "Justin, are you awake?" He knows I'm awake. He doesn't have to ask.
"I'm awake," I say. I clear my throat and swallow. I have too much pride to ask for his help in sitting up, getting a drink. But, I can't stop the tears that trail down my face as he sits up and reaches over me, grabbing the water bottle that's sitting on my nightstand. I take a drink and swallow, my tongue touching the metal in my mouth.
He didn't have to ask.
"You should try and get some sleep," he says as he runs his hand through my hair. I want to bite my lip, but I can't. I can't release the tension and apprehension that I feel coursing through me as his fingers graze my scalp. It comes in waves. I feel like I am on a boat with an ever-expanding hole.
"I can't sleep," I say. I dare not look at him. I am afraid that if I do… I'll drown.
My heart is so loud in my ears I can barely hear the silence. "I lay here… in the dark… and I can see his face, everywhere," I say. I bring my left hand up and wipe the tears from my eyes as I finally look over at Brian.
"The fucked up thing is that I see his face… but really I don't. I can't explain it. It's like this shroud of black where his face should be. I… I just know that if I go to sleep, if I close my eyes… then that blackness will expand. God, I know it sounds so pathetic," I say as I cover my eyes with my forearm, the bandages that wrap my wrist tickling the bridge of my nose.
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Ronnie Jr. …
Perched in the heat of the setting sun, between her classes, I sit and wait for Janna to walk out of the door and into my web. I see the doors swing open and my heart beats with excitement as Janna walks out of the building and down the stairs. She is glancing all around her, hurrying from the building to her car.
I love the safety conscious single female student.
I follow her movements, stepping behind tree after tree until I run out of cover. I step out of the shadows and latch onto her arm. She lets out a blood curdling scream before I have a chance to clamp my hand down over her mouth. I move her backwards, back into the shadows as I wait to see if anyone heard.
"Shhh," I whisper into her ear, "I just want to talk to you." She kicks and screams and fights. I like the ones that fight. Tonight should prove quite fun, at least for me.
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Justin…
Brian can't stay with me forever. I want him to go to work. I want to get back to normal.
"Are you sure you'll be okay?" Brian asks as he places his red silk tie around his neck and starts to tie it. I see a flash in my mind; images… clear as day, of a red piece of material, tight and constricting, cutting of my air supply.
"Do you like a little asphyxiation?" he asks as he leans over me, his breath warm against my face, his fingers ghosting along my neck. I am too scared to move. I can feel my blood, warm as it falls from my mouth and around to the back of my neck, pooling onto the floor.
My legs shake as I stand up and walk over to Brian. "Justin?" He puts his hands out to try and touch me, stop me and see what's wrong but I move my hands against his, fighting him off. My brain is on auto-pilot. I bring my hands up to his neck, frantically trying to undo the knot in the tie with one good hand and limited movement of the fingers on the other.
"Take it off," I say. The words come out stunted, under my breath. "Take it off." Tears start to fall as the knot loosens. Not fast enough. Not fast enough.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Brian asks. He doesn't know what to do. He tries to stop me, to calm me down. "Justin, stop."
"Take it off," I say louder and this time the words catch his attention. "TAKE IT OFF!" I scream as loud as I can, my ribs aching at the effort it takes to breathe in that much air. His brain seems to stop for a second before he realizes what is going on.
He moves his amble fingers over the knot, undoing it the rest of the way and pulling the offending material from his neck and dropping it to the floor.
"It's off… it's off," he says as he takes in a deep breath. I can practically hear his heart beating in his chest as I stare into him. He doesn't know what to do with his hands. His left is still suspended in the air, in the same position as when he dropped the material on the floor.
I gasp for air as he pulls the material from around my neck while he continues to thrust into me. "You like that? Huh? You're so cold now. Your lips are so cold, blue… like ice." He presses his lips to mine and runs his hand down my face, smearing blood down my torso.
I feel my breathing as it starts to come in short bursts. I close my eyes as the world starts to spin around me. I hear Brian's footsteps as they quickly walk away from me. The seconds seem to tick by like years before he comes back. I can smell the paper bag as it slips over my mouth and nose.
"You're okay, just breathe. Breathe," he says as he holds the paper bag over my airway. The fingers of my left hand grip his right as I take deep breaths and try to overcome the panic attack. I look up into his eyes as my heart finally starts to slow.
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Brian…
"I'm staying here," I say as I look at Justin, his chest slowing to a normal pace. He starts to shake his head as his hand leaves mine and starts to push against my chest. "Justin, I'm staying here." I don't give him room for argument. My decision is final.
He takes the paper bag in his hand and moves away from me, inching slowly toward the bathroom. I take a step toward him but he puts his hand up, stopping me.
"I'm fine… I'm fine. I just… give me a minute," he says into the bag, his breathing labored, as he moves into the bathroom and closes the door behind him, turning the lock.
I turn away from the bathroom door and pick up the tie off the floor. I don't bother putting it back in the closet as I head to the trashcan and toss the tie inside. I walk back into the bedroom and take off the suit, slipping on a pair of jeans and a white tee shirt. I stop in front of the bathroom and listen for movement. I don't hear anything.
I pick up the phone and head toward the computer. "Cynthia, it's Brian," I say as I sit down at the computer and turn it on.
"Brian, hey, how is Justin?" She asks. I fill her in on everything, telling her that I am not going to be coming in after all. I don't give her a reason why. "I understand, Brian. We have it all under control here."
"Thanks. Make sure Ted gets the figures for the next wave of the Mitchell campaign," I say as I open my email and glance toward the bathroom.
"You got it," Cynthia says. We finalize a few more things, all of them less important than they were a week ago, before hanging up. Justin is still in the bathroom and I am starting to get worried.
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Justin…
I stand in front of the mirror telling myself that I'm fine. I am fine. The bruises on my body are fading slowly. Soon you won't be able to tell that anything ever happened. Well, I'll look a little better anyway. I lower myself to the floor and pull a towel from the shelf, placing it on the floor before sitting completely down.
I painfully pull my legs up to my chest and wrap my arms around them. I am so sore and every movement I make only makes the feeling more prominent. I can hear Brian as he moves around the loft and I close my eyes. "I shouldn't have let him in the door," I whisper to myself as I lower my face to the cool tile.
I do my best to ignore the aches in my body as they protest the uncomfortable position. "I knew better," I say to the air as my tears slip onto the floor and soak my cheek.
"Cry for me… cry for me. Scream. I like it when they scream," he says, his fingers rough and prodding.
I cover my mouth with my left hand as the tears come hard and fast. I shut my eyes. I can smell him and the bile starts to rise in my throat. I am forced to swallow the acids, not wanting to deal with the feelings that having to ask for help will bring if I allow my stomach to release its contents.
My eyes close and for the first time in what feels like forever, without drugs, I feel myself start to fall asleep. I curl my body into the smallest ball possible and go to sleep, fearing my subconscious.
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Brian…
He's been in the bathroom for hours and I am starting to get worried.
He has to take his medicine. He has to eat… or, well, drink something. I walk over to the bathroom door and knock. "Justin, you have to come out of the bathroom. You have to take your meds and eat something, not to mention I have to piss," I say as I wait for some sort of answer.
"Justin?" I tap on the door again. I don't hear any movement and I start to get worried. Thoughts of razor blades, glass, towels… anything that can be used to inflict bodily harm run through my mind. I turn from the door and try to remember where I put the fucking key.
My eyes settle on the nightstand and I surge forward, pulling the drawer open. I rummage through the drawer, searching for the key. My fingers feel the grooves of the key and I clutch it tightly in my hand as I turn back toward the bathroom. "This better be the fucking key," I say as I put the key in the lock.
I hear a click as the lock turns. I slide the door open and my eyes search the room for Justin. He is on the floor, balled up, shaking and sound asleep. I walk over and kneel down in front of him. I scoop him up in my arms, trying hard not to jostle him.
"You're losing weight already. I can tell," I say to him.
I lay him on the bed and cover him with the duvet. He is still dressed in the sweats he wore home from the hospital two days ago. He refuses to take them off. He refuses to get undressed at all. The only time he does is when I have to look at the stitches. "I'm cold," he mutters as his body shakes under the duvet.
"Okay," I say as I turn around and open the closet, reaching up to get an extra blanket. I open the blanket and cover him with it. I wait until he goes back to sleep before getting up and going to use the bathroom.
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Justin…
I open my eyes and blink a few times. Brian is sitting next to me, his hand on my shoulder, paused in mid-shake. "Brian, leave me alone," I say groggily. His lips curl into a smirk as he holds a glass of water in my face. I sit up with his help and press the straw to my lips, drinking down the cloudy liquid.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks. I know how hard it is for him to suspend his life and take care of me. I look at his leg. I stare into it as I think about what he asked me. He is holding another can of Boost and I inwardly cringe at the thought of the aftertaste.
"No," I whisper as I move away from him and close my eyes.
I hear him sigh as the bed shifts with his movements. "Justin, you have to eat."
"I'm not hungry," I tell him as the pain meds start to kick in. He puts the can down and I close my eyes, knowing that we have to tend to my stitches and other bandages. The thought of him looking at me, touching me, down there… makes me want to disappear. The past two days I have tried to escape into myself when the time comes to clean the wounds.
I close my eyes and try to not feel.
"Debbie called while you were in the bathroom and so did your mother," he says as he puts the things away and goes to wash his hands. I know he is trying to keep the conversation going, to fill the air. "They want to come and see you. You're fucking lucky they didn't just show up." He comes back into the room and looks down at me.
I open my eyes and look up at him. "I don't want to see anyone right now," I say as I close my eyes again. He climbs onto the bed and lies with his face in front of mine.
"Justin, they care about you. They want to see you."
"I don't want to see anyone right now," I repeat. "I barely feel comfortable around you… and… and that feeling comes and goes. Just, just tell them that I love them but I just want to be left alone."
Brian doesn't say anything as he looks at me. "Okay. Whatever you say, sunshine," he says as he presses a kiss to my cheek, ignoring my shudder. "I'll tell them, but don't expect them to listen."
He gets off the bed and I pull the duvet and the extra cover up and over my head, making myself a cocoon.
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Ronnie Jr. …
Seventeen years old…
"Yeah… oh God yeah… fuck, you are one tight piece of ass," he says as he fucks me, my face slamming into the brick wall of one of the buildings that makes this alley possible. He pulls all the way out, letting my body slip to the ground below.
I takes shallow breaths as the dull ache shoots through my body and my legs fight off the numbness that threatens to settle in. He leans over me and starts to spit on my face, my chest, my stomach. "Don't get too comfortable… I'm not finished with you yet," he says. "I paid top dollar and I plan to get all my money's worth."
He slicks his fingers with the spit and starts to spread it on his dick. I close my eyes as his body presses down on mine.
I lick her stomach, relishing in the fear that sends ripples across the taut flesh. "You are very pretty, do you know that?" I ask as tears fall from her eyes. Her wrists are red and irritated under the duct tape, the color reminding me that I need to go to the art supply store. I'm all out of red.
She whimpers in protest, the metallic tape covering her cries as I slip the red scarf around her neck. Keep breathing.
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I watch Justin as he lies in the bed, nothing more than a lump.
He hasn't eaten anything in a day and a half. We are going to try the separation thing again tomorrow. Maybe I'll go by the art supply store and pick him up some sketchpads and pencils. He can't do too much with his right hand right now, but he is ambidextrous. He can build up the strength in his left.
I shut off the computer and turn off the lights as I walk to the bedroom. I climb into bed and lay on my side almost at the edge. I smile a little when I feel Justin move a little closer.
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