Thursday morning. Beginnings and endings.
Could you whisper in my ear,
The things you wanna feel,
I’d give you anything,
Do you feel it coming?
Yeah. Goo goo dolls again. On quiet, headphones in my ears, just lying on top of the bed sheets, just listening. Listening and thinking. What’s going to happen to us, Jake? You’re at a counselling session right now, counsellor, hee, trust me to be dating a counsellor. Anyway- back to the point. What is going to happen to us? Are we going to live happy ever after like in fairy tales and films? Or will we go our separate ways? You go back to the life you had before, me go back to Glasgow, to old friends and old ways and grow old with them there.
I’d much rather the first option.
It must take several knocks on the door before I register them, and stand, headphones still plugged into my ears.
“Coming! One second!”
It’s probably Emma, or Scarlett, or even Orlando. I make the sheets look a little less like I’ve been lying on them, close my photography portfolio where it lies open on the desk, and walk to the door. I open it without a thought.
“Hi, Billy”
Fuck. Slam it in his face. Doesn’t work. His foot in the door. Holding it open there. No. No. No. Panic makes my skin crawl, hair on the back of my neck stand on end. Go away. Go away I don’t want you here. Please. Please.
Fuck Jake come home, come home...
Stumble back away from him. Go away. Go the fuck away. Please don’t.
“Brian don’t do this”
Tumbling over my words, scared, so fucking scared, as he moves into the cabin and I’m trapped, trapped like a fox. Fuck. No. Please. Hear the clatter of random junk falling to the floor. The chair skittering and tipping when I try to put it between myself and him and with one swipe of his foot it’s falling and he’s right in front of me, breath against my lips, hot- a hint of cigarette smoke there.
“Why so scared? Didn’t you miss me?”
“I...” Voice high, falling back against the wall, dead-end, end game, game over. Clutching at it. Sweating. “Please...”
“No. Obviously fucking not. Because you have your new little boyfriend now don’t you?”
Jake...Jake...Jake. If I chant your name in my head maybe you’ll appear.
“Yeah that’s his name” his lip curls “Jake”. Sob.
Jake. Maybe... Eyes shift nervously to the side and I see it lying there, Jake’s cell...oh God...if this doesn’t work, nothing else does, I know that for sure...
Make the lunge, yell, try to make it without being stopped, hit 5 (speed dial, your office). Jake I need you to get this please...
“Ah! Fuck! Stop it!”
Pain so sharp as his fist catches me in the stomach and his other hand twists my arm until the phone falls. Not speaking- yeah you know don’t you, you know that if they hear you...fuck...I hate you...leave me the fuck alone!
“Jake-“ Words cut off by his hand, closing around my throat, gripping so tight I see stars explode behind my eyelids, feel the blood press against my forehead, tears gather in my eyes, I can’t breathe, my fingers coming up to scrabble at his uselessly. Pressed against the wall. This is the way the world ends, Jake. He’s going to kill me. Tears free themselves to run down my cheeks. He kicks the phone, your phone- Jake; he kicks it across and into the corner hard, whispers in my ear:
“Did you keep your hole open for me?"
Then pain and darkness when my head slams back against the wall and sickness claws at my stomach, swirls violently before-
The things you wanna feel,
I’d give you anything,
Do you feel it coming?
Yeah. Goo goo dolls again. On quiet, headphones in my ears, just lying on top of the bed sheets, just listening. Listening and thinking. What’s going to happen to us, Jake? You’re at a counselling session right now, counsellor, hee, trust me to be dating a counsellor. Anyway- back to the point. What is going to happen to us? Are we going to live happy ever after like in fairy tales and films? Or will we go our separate ways? You go back to the life you had before, me go back to Glasgow, to old friends and old ways and grow old with them there.
I’d much rather the first option.
It must take several knocks on the door before I register them, and stand, headphones still plugged into my ears.
“Coming! One second!”
It’s probably Emma, or Scarlett, or even Orlando. I make the sheets look a little less like I’ve been lying on them, close my photography portfolio where it lies open on the desk, and walk to the door. I open it without a thought.
“Hi, Billy”
Fuck. Slam it in his face. Doesn’t work. His foot in the door. Holding it open there. No. No. No. Panic makes my skin crawl, hair on the back of my neck stand on end. Go away. Go away I don’t want you here. Please. Please.
Fuck Jake come home, come home...
Stumble back away from him. Go away. Go the fuck away. Please don’t.
“Brian don’t do this”
Tumbling over my words, scared, so fucking scared, as he moves into the cabin and I’m trapped, trapped like a fox. Fuck. No. Please. Hear the clatter of random junk falling to the floor. The chair skittering and tipping when I try to put it between myself and him and with one swipe of his foot it’s falling and he’s right in front of me, breath against my lips, hot- a hint of cigarette smoke there.
“Why so scared? Didn’t you miss me?”
“I...” Voice high, falling back against the wall, dead-end, end game, game over. Clutching at it. Sweating. “Please...”
“No. Obviously fucking not. Because you have your new little boyfriend now don’t you?”
Jake...Jake...Jake. If I chant your name in my head maybe you’ll appear.
“Yeah that’s his name” his lip curls “Jake”. Sob.
Jake. Maybe... Eyes shift nervously to the side and I see it lying there, Jake’s cell...oh God...if this doesn’t work, nothing else does, I know that for sure...
Make the lunge, yell, try to make it without being stopped, hit 5 (speed dial, your office). Jake I need you to get this please...
“Ah! Fuck! Stop it!”
Pain so sharp as his fist catches me in the stomach and his other hand twists my arm until the phone falls. Not speaking- yeah you know don’t you, you know that if they hear you...fuck...I hate you...leave me the fuck alone!
“Jake-“ Words cut off by his hand, closing around my throat, gripping so tight I see stars explode behind my eyelids, feel the blood press against my forehead, tears gather in my eyes, I can’t breathe, my fingers coming up to scrabble at his uselessly. Pressed against the wall. This is the way the world ends, Jake. He’s going to kill me. Tears free themselves to run down my cheeks. He kicks the phone, your phone- Jake; he kicks it across and into the corner hard, whispers in my ear:
“Did you keep your hole open for me?"
Then pain and darkness when my head slams back against the wall and sickness claws at my stomach, swirls violently before-