K2: Save Me From Myself Chapter 3

I can't believe Kyle. I don't know if I'm mostly angry, concerned, afraid, or sympathetic. I don't know. How could he have hidden something like this from me? And for over a year? Am I really that oblivious? Then again, this is Kyle I'm talking about. He's always been secretive, shy. If he wants something hidden, it stays that way. And I'm sure no one else knows. But still...

I wonder what's so awful that he needs to hurt himself over it. I can't think of anything that would be bad enough in Kyle's life that he needs to numb it with physical pain. Then again, I'm not living Kyle's life, so who am I to judge?

But after all that crap he spewed, about how he'd be there for me, pull me back from the brink of self-destruction, how can he make such promises when he's so close to it himself? I'm not sure who's the bigger hypocrite among us. I suppose it doesn't matter now. As long as I can keep him from doing it, everything will be okay.

But was my threat an empty one? Could I really tell Kyle's parents, knowing how much he would hate me for it? Even if it is for his own good, I don't know if I could be that selfless...No. If it's to keep him from hurting himself, I'll do it, even if he never forgives me...but I...well, I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. And I'll just hope I never have to.

I pull the razors out of my pocket. Study them. They repulse me. How can he do something like this? Kyle's always been so...so strong. What could cause him to break so badly that he has to seek solace in pain? But even as I wonder, I think I can figure out the answer. It's the same thing that causes me to soothe my own aching heart with a bottle or ten. It's love.

I head in to work. Even though I'm a total boozer, I still manage to keep a job. Granted, it's working in a mechanics shop, but still. All I think of during my shift is him. His beautiful pale skin, smooth and clear of blemishes. His bright, curly red hair. Vivid green eyes. Soft, inviting lips I shake myself slightly and sigh, trying to calm the pounding in my chest. I call him when I go on break.

"Yes?" he answers, clearly irritated. I sigh quietly. I really hope things can be okay with us. I let him try to help me with my problem, why won't he let me do the same for him?

"I just wanted to say hi. Check in and all." He huffs on the other end in agitation.

"I don't need a babysitter. I can take care of myself."

"I know, I..." I sigh. Why is he being like this? Is he really so mad that I'm trying to help him? "I didn't mean it like that. Please don't be mad..." It's his turn to sigh.

"Sorry. I just...I don't know. Could you maybe come over later?" I perk up at this suggestion. God, I'm so hopeless. He just wants to hang out, nothing else is going to happen.

"Yeah, sure. When?" I ask. We agree on a time and I head back to work. I daydream all day about what I wish I could do to Kyle. I wonder what he would think if he knew about the thoughts that flit across my brain every day, the ones that involve him. I wonder if he'd allow me to try some of them.

I shake myself from my thoughts once again. If Kyle wanted to do that, I'm pretty sure we'd be doing it. But...then again...Kyle's never been the type of person to take risks. If he doesn't know that I feel this way, maybe he wouldn't make a move. Maybe he's waiting for me to. I gulp. Could I make a move, knowing that it's possible, maybe even likely, that I'll be met with rejection? Could I do that? I've made the first move before but...never in a circumstance like this one. Never with someone this important. And Kyle's so fragile...if I tried to make a move, would it send him back into the arms of his razor blades?

I shudder as I think of him doing that. I still can't believe it. And...seeing him...break down like he did when I found out...I've never seen Kyle like that. So...helpless. I wanted so much to comfort him, to hold him and tell him it would be all right, but I couldn't make a promise like that. And I was still too angry.

Soon my shift is over and it's time for me to go home, to my empty house. I walk in the front door, seeing what I saw in my childhood, but empty now. Hollow. No children sitting on the couch or on the floor, no parents yelling, no cans of beer lying around. Well...that last one is still true at least. Even though my childhood was far from ideal, I still miss those things sometimes. It was...comforting in some strange way. Maybe just because it was familiar. God how I miss Karen. She was my baby sister, and I was supposed to protect her. Protect her from the cold, dark world that we live in. But instead, I just introduced her to more torment. The thought of how I abandoned her makes me want to drink, but I know I can't, especially if I'm going to see Kyle in a little bit.

I go to her old room. Posters still line the walls, a few bits of clothing still left in the closet. But any essence of her has left. The room is merely a room, as meaningful as an unmarked grave. Will I ever see her again?

I walk to Kyle's house, the cold air whipping my face. His parents aren't home and Ike is staying the night at a friend's house. Under different circumstances, this would be an ideal situation. But tonight it doesn't really matter.

I ring the doorbell and he opens the door. He's wearing a long sleeved gray hoodie and blue jeans. His face is somber. He moves aside for me to step over the threshold and closes the door. He stands there, looking at me, his arms wrapped around his torso.

"Well...wanna go upstairs?" I ask. He doesn't say a word. I'm not sure what to do. He looks so strange; I'm not even sure how to describe the look on his face. "Kyle?"

Suddenly, he's attacking me, pushing me against the wall and slamming his fists into my face and stomach. I cough as a sharp pain splinters up the back of my head. He's hitting me and screaming and crying. I fend off the blows as best I can. He soon becomes sloppy, losing energy. He collapses into a ball on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. I sink to the floor next to him. I put my arms around him.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I'm sorry..." he cries, over and over. I shush him and hold him close. He sobs into my chest. "Kenny, I'm so, so sorry..."

"I know." I whisper. He looks up at me. "It's okay. You didn't mean it." And then he's kissing me. Just like that, our lips coming together in a rough, sloppy mess. I wasn't expecting it, and at first I thought maybe I was dreaming, but he presses his lips to mine and begins to kiss me hungrily. He bites and sucks on my bottom lip, just begging for more. I kiss him back passionately. He pulls away long enough to say the words he'd only ever said in my wildest, most vivid dreams:

"I want you." He gets off of me and drags me up the stairs. He pushes me onto his bed and gets on top of me, grinding his hips on mine in a way I didn't think Kyle knew how. He leans in close and bites my ear. "Fuck me hard."

He begins to pull and tear at my clothes. This all seems so surreal. He licks and sucks and bites, leaving marks and hickies all down my chest. With shaking hands I pull his shirt over his head. I begin to undo his pants, but he becomes impatient and rips them off himself. We are naked, in his empty house, about to do what I'd been dreaming of for months. But then, he uttered two words, two simple little words, that break my heart and maybe even my soul:

"Hurt me." I stop dead. I feel cold everywhere. He looks up from what he was doing, looking into my eyes. "Why'd you stop?" he asks, his eyebrows knit together in confusion over his sparkling green eyes. I shove him off of me and wrap his blanket around myself.

"Is that all this is to you? You wanna feel pain? I took away your razor so now you're looking for a new source?" He gets back on top of me.

"Please Kenny, I need this," he begs, his voice itself drawing me in. I can barely resist him. "Please..." He begins kissing me again, and it feels so good, how can I refuse him? But I have to. I push him away once more.

"I'm not going to do this. I'm not going to be your new way of hurting yourself." His sadness turns to rage. He leans in close, slowly, dangerously.

"You think you have any choice?" he whispers ferociously. I've never heard anything quite so spine-tingling before. "You're gonna fuck me hard Kenny McCormick, and I'll finally feel okay again. Are you going to deny me my chance at happiness? Because I swear," he whispers, "I'm going to have it, and you're going to give it to me."

I wake up in an unfamiliar place. I slowly open my eyes. It is now I notice the weight next to me. It is Kyle. We are both naked. I smile excitedly. Had we finally...but then the memory of last night floods into my brain. Every scream, every moan, every sick detail rushing through my mind. I look down at myself. I'm covered in scratches, bruises, bite marks. Kyle must look about the same, if not worse. I feel sick. Kyle begins stirring. He turns to look at me. He actually smiles.

"Heyyy," he mumbles, placing a gentle kiss on my cheek. The gentlest gesture he's shone me thus far. "Did you have fun last night?" The world felt tilted, off balance, askew, wrong. Sick. I feel like I may fall off of it at any moment. I want to run and hide, or crawl into bed and just sleep forever. After...all this time...everything I've felt...and it had to happen like THIS?

"I...I have to go..." I jump out of the bed and scramble for my clothes. Kyle sits up, draping the blanket around himself. I can't even look at him without feeling nauseous.

"What's wrong?" he asks. I ignore his question, continuing my search for my clothes. He gets off the bed and watches me. "Was it bad for you?" I scoff at the absurdity of his inquiry. "Kenny, why won't you look at me?"

"Because you used me! You used me and I let it happen and I...I can't look at you without being repulsed and disgusted with myself. Just...I have to go." He comes over and takes my hand, still holding the blanket up around his waist. I shudder at his touch.

"Please don't leave...I really enjoyed last night. And you can't tell me that some part of you didn't too." I close my eyes. I know that he's right. And that just makes me feel even worse. "What's wrong with what we did?"

"It didn't..." I stop myself before saying what I was about to, that it didn't mean anything to him. "You just wanted to feel pain! That's all it was for you, your way of escaping reality with physical pain!" He laughs.

"I felt a lot last night Kenny, and it wasn't pain. Well...some of it was...but God was it worth it." I feel him shiver with delight. "I don't see anything wrong with that." If it was anyone else, I'd agree. But it's Kyle. Meaningless sex and Kyle are two things I never wanted to mix. My heart is shattered. I can't stay here any longer, or I'll break down completely.

"I need to be alone." I yank my arm from his grasp and slip out the door before he can try to stop me again. I leave him alone, among the stains and bruises, along with our shattered friendship.