Chapter Eight: Gaspin'
She jus' can't get enough o' me. Back for more so soon? (I was right, Mr. Rainey. She came back. And she ain't never gonna leave, 'cos you ain't taken them pills o' yours, Mr. Rainey. And now I'm here, for good.)
"Mort. Just let me go."
"Let you go? Now why would I ever wanna do that?" I say, slowly tightenin' my grip on her sleeve. "I ain't gonna let you go, missy."
:::Shooter! Just let her go!!:::
(Let her go? You actin' as daft as she is, Mr. Rainey. I can't let her go.)
:::Shooter, please, please let her go!:::
(You soundin' awful sad, Mr. Rainey, awful sad. But you know I can't do what you want me to do. I can't let you have everthin' you want, I want you to know what it's like, bein' in somebody else, day after day, while they get on with their lives, and you can't do nothin'. So now you can jus' sit back, and enjoy what you're about to see, Mr. Rainey. And make sure you remember it, 'cos you're never gonna experience it ever again.) Sure, she looks scared o' me, but she won't be. Not when she knows I'm not gonna hurt her, but I jus' gotta tell her that firs'. Now she's strugglin', but it ain't gettin' her nowhere, I'm not lettin' go o' this chance so soon.
"Miss Clementine, you ain't never known what it feels like to be helpless. To be able to see things, but not do anythin' about them. I'm not gonna hurt you, unless. . ." she cuts me short, kickin' my shins and hittin' out with her arms, and for a while, I was alrigh', I tried to force her down onto the couch, and it took some time, but eventually, she was there, and she was all mine.
"Let me go you sick bastard!" she yells at me. Now, now, we can't be havin' none of that.
"Clementine, the more you struggle, the more I'll hurt you, if you don't move, then we'll both get along peachy." She stares up at me, and sees me thinkin', peachy, that was Mr. Rainey sayin' that. And I can feel him, fightin' inside o' me, no. He's not gonna do that, lets see what he does when he forces me to hurt Miss Clementine. I can see in her eyes she knows Mr. Rainey's lurkin' jus' under the surface, not for long. I take the back o' my hand, and hit it sharply across her face. She puts her hand up to it, and Mr. Rainey's quiet for a moment. But then he's back. (Calm down, Mr. Rainey. The more she struggles, the more she gets hurt, and the more you struggle the more she gets hurt. See? You're never gonna win, 'cos I know you, Mr. Rainey, you love her, and if I threaten her, you won't do nothin' to get in my way.) I sit down on the couch next to Clementine, and move her hand.
"I didn't want to do that to you, but Mr. Rainey made me. If he jus' left us alone we'd be alrigh'."
"Get off me."
"No." She moves her hand up as if to strike me, and I put mine up too, but she doesn't. She kicks my thighs up to the top of my legs, and I have to let her go. But she can't go far. As I try to stand up again, she jumps off the couch and runs towards the back door, which is locked. (Mr. Rainey, you're fightin' again.) I take Clementine's shoulders and push her into the back door, she slumps, and falls. (See what'ya did, Mr. Rainey? You knocked her out.) I tap her face, lightly.
"Come on, Clementine, wake up now."
:::Shooter! Just go, just leave her for fucks sake! Let me back!:::
(Mr. Rainey. I can't do that now. That would be defeat, suicide. You're still fightin').
:::Of course I'm still fighting! I'll fight forever to get you out of my life!:::
(Even if it means hurtin' Miss Clementine here?) I knew that would work. He's quiet. She's still out cold, she ain't gonna be any fun like that. I tap her face again, and she coughs. And again, she struggles, I dunno what I'm gonna do this time, and I won't be held responsible for my actions.
:::What the hell does that mean, Shooter? Just leave her alone, she'll be alright, just go and you won't get caught.:::
(You think I jus' don't wanna be caught, Mr. Rainey? I don't mind if I'm caught, 'cos no one sees me but you, and then when I show up people all think I'm you. So they won't catch me, they'll catch you, Mr. Rainey.)
:::Urgh, Shooter!:::
(You're fightin' me, Mr. Rainey, and you know I don't like it when you're fightin' me. That's better. Now I jus' gotta get your dear friend here to do the same.)
"Shooter, get off me! Let me go!"
"No, I don't think I will, Clementine. You are mine."
"Shooter!" I hold my hand around her neck, and she's quiet, she knows I would. I would.
:::Shooter don't you dare do that!:::
"Mr. Rainey doesn't want me to do this Clementine. But it's exactly that that's makin' me do it, you must understand this, I would never hurt a lady such as yourself. But it's Mr. Rainey that's hurtin' you Clementine, remember that." I push a little on her neck, not enough to cut off her air, but forcefully. She wraps a hand around mine, tryin' to pull it off, I push harder, and she opens and shuts her mouth like a fish gaspin' for water. I'll give her water.
"Shooter!" she screams as I pull her up, and drag her into the kitchen where I turn on the tap, holdin' her hair tightly behind her head.
"Shooter!"
:::Shooter! SHOOTER!!!:::
(I'm sorry, Mr. Rainey. I'm really, sorry.) I turn off the tap, the basin's full. Clementine's not gaspin' anymore, she should be. I grip her throat again.
"Shooter, please, please," she sobs. Right little actress. She ain't getting' away. No matter how hard she cries. She's gaspin' again, and I take that as my cue, forcin' her head under the water. I can see her hands grippin' the side of the sink, and her feet strugglin' to kick me. I pull her head up, water runs off of her hair and she's takin' deep breaths of air.
"That's it, Clementine, take some deep breaths." She continues to do so, and I put her head under again. The kickin' starts, and once she gets my shins, but I don't bring her head up. Then I do, I can't hold her under there for too long.
"You see what happens when you struggle?" She's breathin' too much to answer me, I take a towel from by the side of the sink and hand it to her, she mops her face and tries to dry her hair a li'l, but I'm still holdin' it. "Can I have that back now?" She looks a little nervously at me, she should be nervous, then hands it back. I put her head under once more. I know that was a mean li'l trick to play. (That was really your fault, Mr. Rainey, I wouldn't have given her hope if it hadn't been for you, tryin' to get me to stop. ) After a moment she goes limp. I hold her there for a few seconds more, to make sure she's really dead. I think she is. I pull her out a the sink and she drops to the floor. I feel for her pulse. It's very, very weak, and she's not breathin'. (Well that's that, Mr. Rainey.)
She jus' can't get enough o' me. Back for more so soon? (I was right, Mr. Rainey. She came back. And she ain't never gonna leave, 'cos you ain't taken them pills o' yours, Mr. Rainey. And now I'm here, for good.)
"Mort. Just let me go."
"Let you go? Now why would I ever wanna do that?" I say, slowly tightenin' my grip on her sleeve. "I ain't gonna let you go, missy."
:::Shooter! Just let her go!!:::
(Let her go? You actin' as daft as she is, Mr. Rainey. I can't let her go.)
:::Shooter, please, please let her go!:::
(You soundin' awful sad, Mr. Rainey, awful sad. But you know I can't do what you want me to do. I can't let you have everthin' you want, I want you to know what it's like, bein' in somebody else, day after day, while they get on with their lives, and you can't do nothin'. So now you can jus' sit back, and enjoy what you're about to see, Mr. Rainey. And make sure you remember it, 'cos you're never gonna experience it ever again.) Sure, she looks scared o' me, but she won't be. Not when she knows I'm not gonna hurt her, but I jus' gotta tell her that firs'. Now she's strugglin', but it ain't gettin' her nowhere, I'm not lettin' go o' this chance so soon.
"Miss Clementine, you ain't never known what it feels like to be helpless. To be able to see things, but not do anythin' about them. I'm not gonna hurt you, unless. . ." she cuts me short, kickin' my shins and hittin' out with her arms, and for a while, I was alrigh', I tried to force her down onto the couch, and it took some time, but eventually, she was there, and she was all mine.
"Let me go you sick bastard!" she yells at me. Now, now, we can't be havin' none of that.
"Clementine, the more you struggle, the more I'll hurt you, if you don't move, then we'll both get along peachy." She stares up at me, and sees me thinkin', peachy, that was Mr. Rainey sayin' that. And I can feel him, fightin' inside o' me, no. He's not gonna do that, lets see what he does when he forces me to hurt Miss Clementine. I can see in her eyes she knows Mr. Rainey's lurkin' jus' under the surface, not for long. I take the back o' my hand, and hit it sharply across her face. She puts her hand up to it, and Mr. Rainey's quiet for a moment. But then he's back. (Calm down, Mr. Rainey. The more she struggles, the more she gets hurt, and the more you struggle the more she gets hurt. See? You're never gonna win, 'cos I know you, Mr. Rainey, you love her, and if I threaten her, you won't do nothin' to get in my way.) I sit down on the couch next to Clementine, and move her hand.
"I didn't want to do that to you, but Mr. Rainey made me. If he jus' left us alone we'd be alrigh'."
"Get off me."
"No." She moves her hand up as if to strike me, and I put mine up too, but she doesn't. She kicks my thighs up to the top of my legs, and I have to let her go. But she can't go far. As I try to stand up again, she jumps off the couch and runs towards the back door, which is locked. (Mr. Rainey, you're fightin' again.) I take Clementine's shoulders and push her into the back door, she slumps, and falls. (See what'ya did, Mr. Rainey? You knocked her out.) I tap her face, lightly.
"Come on, Clementine, wake up now."
:::Shooter! Just go, just leave her for fucks sake! Let me back!:::
(Mr. Rainey. I can't do that now. That would be defeat, suicide. You're still fightin').
:::Of course I'm still fighting! I'll fight forever to get you out of my life!:::
(Even if it means hurtin' Miss Clementine here?) I knew that would work. He's quiet. She's still out cold, she ain't gonna be any fun like that. I tap her face again, and she coughs. And again, she struggles, I dunno what I'm gonna do this time, and I won't be held responsible for my actions.
:::What the hell does that mean, Shooter? Just leave her alone, she'll be alright, just go and you won't get caught.:::
(You think I jus' don't wanna be caught, Mr. Rainey? I don't mind if I'm caught, 'cos no one sees me but you, and then when I show up people all think I'm you. So they won't catch me, they'll catch you, Mr. Rainey.)
:::Urgh, Shooter!:::
(You're fightin' me, Mr. Rainey, and you know I don't like it when you're fightin' me. That's better. Now I jus' gotta get your dear friend here to do the same.)
"Shooter, get off me! Let me go!"
"No, I don't think I will, Clementine. You are mine."
"Shooter!" I hold my hand around her neck, and she's quiet, she knows I would. I would.
:::Shooter don't you dare do that!:::
"Mr. Rainey doesn't want me to do this Clementine. But it's exactly that that's makin' me do it, you must understand this, I would never hurt a lady such as yourself. But it's Mr. Rainey that's hurtin' you Clementine, remember that." I push a little on her neck, not enough to cut off her air, but forcefully. She wraps a hand around mine, tryin' to pull it off, I push harder, and she opens and shuts her mouth like a fish gaspin' for water. I'll give her water.
"Shooter!" she screams as I pull her up, and drag her into the kitchen where I turn on the tap, holdin' her hair tightly behind her head.
"Shooter!"
:::Shooter! SHOOTER!!!:::
(I'm sorry, Mr. Rainey. I'm really, sorry.) I turn off the tap, the basin's full. Clementine's not gaspin' anymore, she should be. I grip her throat again.
"Shooter, please, please," she sobs. Right little actress. She ain't getting' away. No matter how hard she cries. She's gaspin' again, and I take that as my cue, forcin' her head under the water. I can see her hands grippin' the side of the sink, and her feet strugglin' to kick me. I pull her head up, water runs off of her hair and she's takin' deep breaths of air.
"That's it, Clementine, take some deep breaths." She continues to do so, and I put her head under again. The kickin' starts, and once she gets my shins, but I don't bring her head up. Then I do, I can't hold her under there for too long.
"You see what happens when you struggle?" She's breathin' too much to answer me, I take a towel from by the side of the sink and hand it to her, she mops her face and tries to dry her hair a li'l, but I'm still holdin' it. "Can I have that back now?" She looks a little nervously at me, she should be nervous, then hands it back. I put her head under once more. I know that was a mean li'l trick to play. (That was really your fault, Mr. Rainey, I wouldn't have given her hope if it hadn't been for you, tryin' to get me to stop. ) After a moment she goes limp. I hold her there for a few seconds more, to make sure she's really dead. I think she is. I pull her out a the sink and she drops to the floor. I feel for her pulse. It's very, very weak, and she's not breathin'. (Well that's that, Mr. Rainey.)