Drop
"I'm not worth it... Or maybe... you think you can save me. Will you love me...? Take care of me...? Heal all my pain...?"
I was growing tired of this. The raven-haired girl on the top of the hotel stairs, Angela, had an look of accusation in her eyes as she stared down at me. Accusation and disgust. She accused me of cheating on my wife. She said I disgusted her when I tried to console her after that monster tried to kill us. And now this.
It was hot. My lungs felt like they were on fire and I could barely breathe. I only coughed in response; even if I could speak, I wouldn't dignify her with an answer.
"I thought so…" Angela said softly. She extended her hand out. "My knife."
I shook my head. "No."
"What did you say?"
I looked up, straight into her dead, brown eyes. "I said, 'No'."
The look of pure anger and loathing further incensed me yet a feeling of satisfaction began to well inside me. After being pulled apart in every direction by Maria, Laura, and Angela and all the running and the fucking monsters that could kill me within a moment's notice, it felt good to finally control.
"What, are you going to keep it for yourself? Have you given up already?" She turned away, heading upstairs. "Whatever. I'll find another way. And this time, I won't fail."
"Coward."
That made her stop.
"You have the nerve to criticize me as if you know my struggles. As if you stood in my shoes!" My voice trembled with anger as I continued, rising in volume. I began to ascend the stairs; the heat was unbearable the higher I went. "It's obvious you have issues. Never once have I judged you and your predicament."
Angela swung around and raised her hand to strike me. I caught her arm and slammed her against the wall. She let out a scream of fury, struggling against the hold I had on her. "Let me go! Get your filthy hands off of me!"
Slamming the knife into the wall right next to her head shut her up.
"I never met such a cowardly, weak, pathetic hypocrite in all my life." Her cheeks were tearstained. I couldn't care less.
"Just…let me…die." She choked out between sobs.
My hands snaked around her throat and I squeezed. I looked deep in her eyes and in their faded reflection, I could see my wife. And the hospital bed. The scent of antiseptic nothingness. The weak kicking of her body as it attempted to regain oxygen. The sensation of her lips. The final gurgle of life. The swell of her breasts under her hospital gown, their softness in my palms. Her last word: "James…"
"James…"
The tightness of her…
"James…please…."
I looked back at Mary…and her place was a near nude, raven-haired nineteen year old with me on top of her.
"Angela…"
My hands had loosened their grip on her throat but my body had pinned hers to an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room.
Her eyes weakly opened, they were closed when I came to reality, and their emptiness frightened me. Semen stained the mattress as it slowly flowed out of her.
"Why did you stop?" She took my hands and placed them firmly against her throat. "Have mercy on me like you did your wife. Please…" Then she fainted.
For the first time in the years after Mary's death, I felt something inside of myself. I didn't know what it was but the tears wouldn't stop flowing and shaking. I withdrew my hands from her throat and up to my face.
I couldn't stop crying.
So much that I can say to you
With affection that I burn inside
You're aching from the distance
Avoiding strain that's running still alive
If only I could heal you
In the sprinkling of the ocean side
But then you'd know how much I really love you
All the love in an instant
Makes my life stop
But then my hate for you
Makes my feelings altogether drop
- Mark Kozelek (Red House Painters) - "Drop"