Okay, finally...real angst and torture.
Chapter 6
Small Squeaky Steps
They never told you that horror can come in all ways…
Too small
October, 30, 2009
It's around six o'clock at night when I arrive at Richards' house and as he tells me to sit down, I look around and realize how black and damp and dark this place is and I'm tempted to run away because my stomach's twisting and my head's spinning and I just want it all to stop and I just to freaking breathe but I don't get any of that as he ruffles his fingers through my hair.
I look at him and I realize how cunning and mischievous and clever those eyes are, all twisted into his eyes, a thousand emotions—hate, because everyone hates me, lust, for me—and before I can finish my thoughts, he presses me to the couch and looks at me.
"Ready for your treatment?" he asks, and takes my hand, looking at it, looking at my veins and my arteries all in one go, all clumped up in the surface of my ugly tattered skin. He throws me a white bottle and I don't need to look at it to realize that it's steroids and my heart hammers in my chest and I start to sweat and my head's spinning and pounding and I clutch onto my shirt to feel the heat there.
"Steroids?" I almost whisper and before I could say anything, he rips the bottle out of my hands and opens the lid off, Richards' hand pushes me to the couch and his eyes are staring at me, hard eyes, and fear burns right through me and all I want to do is cry and all I can do is die inside and he shakes more than ten pills at once and he forces it down my throat, fast and hard, acid burns in my throat and as I try to look up at him, I dizzily fall down onto the couch and the room's spinning and the world's all wrong and all I could do is try to speak but I can't speak at all.
He throws my Legacy picture and me and demands me to, "Look at it."
I grab onto the picture and it's all fuzzy and unclear and hazy and I can't make out me from Randy from Cody and it's all blurry lines and I don't know what the hell is going on and that's all the time he needs to grab onto my shoulder and throw me towards the table, his hand rubbing against the flesh of my sweaty face and everything's just so dizzy and unclear and surreal and I don't know if I'm in reality or if I'm burning in another realm. "Stay in one place, Teddy bear."
My head spins and spins and spiraling around the fluorescent flaming light in front of me and I feel as if fire's burning in my sockets as I close my eyes and I feel him strapping me down and my head spins and spins as I open my eyes again and see his hands snaking up my belt, unbuckling it and taking it off. "Relax, Ted. You want to be fixed, don't you?"
I nod my head once, feeling sweat trap against my skin. "You want him to like you, don't you?" I know that he's talking about Randy. I never really loved Randy but now that he's mentioning it, I'm starting to—slowly think—that he's some sort of angel there for me.
He's not here now.
It's like betrayal in my head but I can't think too clearly anymore as I feel his hands travel up my legs and a shiver goes up my spine as I look at what I can see. I still have my underwear on but my jeans and belt are no the ground and I see as his fingers slip towards a scalpel and he looks at me once. "Tell me, little one. Why are you an anorexic?"
"My father died. My wife left me." I replay that in my head. My father just drops down, the Million Dollar man just goes down, and my wife, wearing the same shade of pink she wore on our wedding, the same smile painted on her lips when she last left the room, and then reading the letter and having her not come back until I was gone, choking on her dead sparkles and strangling under my unsaid words of sorrow—I just don't know what to do anymore. "I…I think I can't love anymore…I just know it."
"But you love him," he snaps at me. "And you shouldn't."
I nod my head. "I shouldn't," I repeat and feel as Richards' scalpel digs into my flesh and I want to scream in pain. He didn't numb me and he knows it as well as I do but I bite at my lower lip because I know that I deserve this. I deserve this. I tell myself as I take a swig of breath and feel another sharp encounter with the scalpel digging inside of my body, making me want to scream, making me want to cry and all I could say is "Randy".
Randy.
What would he do right now?
I'm his biggest fighter. I can't cry and break right now. I'm part of his Legacy. I shouldn't break. Those last few days with them, they're just pathetic and I don't want to be pathetic anymore. I want to be strong for him. I need to be strong for him. And as he digs the scalpel dip into my arteries, I could see so much blood…it's like a horror movie and I could see the purple and red and blue of my body, pulsing pain, ripping horror, and I don't think I can take the scent that's flowing to my nose so harshly and so very horridly.
I try to rip my hands out and rip my legs out but I can't. I'm just completely stuck and the more I try to break free, the more the cuffs dig into my body, blood pouring so rigidly, flesh peeling, and I think I'm in this horrible horror movie and I can't get out at all.
I look around and find myself trapped with the darkness ready to pound inside of me. I don't think I can take it anymore but I do. I close my eyes and let the despondency and agony and distress linger inside of me, clawing me into its black hole, deep inside of Hell, burning fire…
I don't know how many hours I spend with him touching my insides, paining me, making me want to kill myself, making me want to be suicidal, but it seems like an eternity in Hell and when I finally open my eyes, I find those numbed tears lashing away down my face and instead of feeling cold, I'm still burning and as I look down at my feet, I think I'm seeing nothing but blood and flesh.
It's all tattered and battered.
And looking around, there's just so much blood…and it smells so revolting and repulsive and I think it's poison to my head as I try to breathe but I know I freaking can't breathe and I feel as if something's clogging my throat and I can't get it out and I'm tempted to rip my throat out but I can't and my hands are so very tired as he lets me go and my hands and feet just hurt more now that the blood freely runs from them and as I look back down to my feet, I still only see a horror movie and sitting up, I realize that I have no energy and I feel so drained out of my brain and I feel him as he holds my shoulders, gripping them tightly and the pain just multiplies by twenty and I moan from the agony that's filling me whole.
He throws me back towards his near couch and I feel little particles eating away at my back as he walks towards me, holding my chin and lifting it up so that my eyes faced his and he tells me to wait while he brings me a tray of food, a bright red tray of sandwiches and I honestly want to fight it and I honestly try to but I have no more energy. I'm just so drained I can't even afford emotions.
Too weak to fight, Teddy?
And as he shoves them down to my throat, I feel as if it's tasteless and everything tastes so very bitter and repulsive that I don't want to eat it anymore but he shoves it down my throat anyways.
No wonder Randy doesn't even notice you exist.
"He does," I mumble with a full mouth to the voices and Richards smacks the back of my head so that I'd gulp the tasteless food down and then he'd laugh at me, seeing the dizziness and the blackness that's clogging my eyes and he loves it so very much as he squeezes my shoulders.
Why isn't he here then?
"He doesn't know where I am," I whisper, so tired and so sleepy and I try to stand up but I fall back down on the floor when I feel pain shoot up from my feet to my head and Richards throws me back up the couch, groans coming out from my mouth as the throbbing tones down but it's not enough for me to fall asleep. The pain's just too overwhelming and I can't walk anymore.
…and you're in a horror movie right now.
They never told you that the next time you breathe…
To matter
October, 31, 2009
It's Halloween.
The day where everyone dresses up and Jeff Hardy's favorite holiday and I'm sitting down, remembering little pieces of my cluttered memory as he tells me that I need to keep my energy up for tomorrow and he's threatening to strap me down to the couch if I try to walk.
After ten minutes of walking me trying to move, he straps me down, harsh and hard so that I can stay in one place and as I stare at him, biting the flesh of my lower lip and his fingers trace around my feet and Richards' looking at me as if I'm his victim and my heart thuds so loudly in my ear that I feel as if it'll stop any moment and I'll die.
I'm dressed up without even trying to me.
A horror movie.
My legs and feet have bruises on them from my attempts to try and walk and my flesh has drained blood covering it whole and every time I try to clean it up, pain just shoots up my toe to my head, it just hurts so much to touch me there and I'm too weak to get out of the couch and I don't know how many pieces are on the floor of the house but he keeps pressing me to them, so that blood will clog my memory and I'll be so dizzy that I wouldn't notice it if he shoves food down my throat.
The only reason I'm still alive is because he's not done with me yet and I wish he'd be done with me so that he can rip my heart out of my chest because I don't want it beating in my ears anymore. It just hurts so very much. Every time I look in the mirror, I still feel like my soul's there and it's missing its body and every time I look down at the floor, to the pieces, I know that's my forever broken heart that's inking and bleeding ink to write on my paper, hot red blood.
It just hurts.
The worst part is the voices. The voices convince me to do things I don't want to do. The voices convince me that Randy can never love a pathetic idiot like me and I find myself wondering and hoping that Randy doesn't care if I'm dead or alive because I don't want him to get hurt over me.
I don't want him to get hurt over nothing.
A horror movie.
All in my head.
I can't escape.
…you'll wish it's your last breath.
now, that's real pain.
Ted: *eyes widened* can you torture me even more?
I can try...
;) Sam
