Surreal Ecstasy

by Moon, Chrissy

  I couldn't think about that right now. All I knew is that I had to get away from here, away from this place that we shared together, a place that would only serve to remind me of the perfect man who wasn't here with me anymore.

  I began getting dressed, throwing on jeans, a navy blue Mariners t-shirt, socks, sneakers, and a gray hoodie. Then I took out my old backpack from the closet and stuffed in it a few days' worth of clothes, along with a paperback that was sitting on my dresser drawers. I would have to just contact Dess later to get the rest of my stuff and explain what happened, once I figured out where I was going. I didn't want to take my laptop. What would be the point? There wasn't anything I could do with it that interested me right now, and there certainly wasn't anybody I wanted to get in touch with over the internet. I grabbed my phone, turning it off and stuffing it in my purse, and stuck the purse into my backpack with the rest of the stuff. It barely fit, but I was able to zip it closed.

  I opened my bedroom door slowly so as not to make any noise, then tiptoed through and closed the door just as agonizingly slow. It was a little silly being so quiet after Ree and I had made so much noise, but I really didn't want Dess to wake up now, right when I was about to leave. I couldn't handle the pain of having to think about Ree or what had happened, not right now.

  Putting both my backpack straps on, I tiptoed through the empty kitchen, pausing near the front door, where all our car keys hung on a series of wall hooks. I closed my hand around the keys and lifted the ring carefully, then opened our front door. It squeaked a little, and I paused to listen for hints of Dess coming out to investigate. When I didn't hear anything, I finished opening the door, stepped through, and closed it just as slowly.

  I placed my house key in the lock and locked the door. Once I made sure the house was safe, I walked to my blue VW bug and got in, taking off my backpack and placing it on the seat next to me.

  I loved Dess like a sister, but being in that house was painful. Talking to her would be just as painful because, even though I didn't realize it when I first met them, they really did look a lot alike, and being around her right now would make me feel close to him yet extremely far away from him at the same time.

  I started the engine and drove off, wondering what would happen to my life.

  Chapter 19

  I stopped at the bank as soon as it opened to deposit my final paycheck from Crafts Market. Thank goodness it was enough to get me through the next couple of weeks, if I was careful. Of course, I would have to find a job as soon as possible.

  I checked into the local Extended Stay, figuring it was probably the most inexpensive hotel in town. I didn't know where else I could go and frankly, I didn't have the willpower or energy to do any research. I had to admit it was pretty disheartening when I was asked how many nights I would be staying and had no choice but to tell the lady that I honestly didn't know. I must have looked especially pitiful and haggard, because she just gave me a kind of sympathetic look, considered, and then spoke again.

  "Tell you what. I'll record your room as being taken for a week, but I won't tie you down to it. Call the front desk every morning to let us know you'll be staying another day, and when you know if you'll be staying a lot longer—or when you'll be checking out—let us know that as well."

  That seemed to work. I nodded, trying not to meet her eyes. I had imposed a sort of social shut-down mode upon myself. I'd live a life of solitude and boring certainty for the rest of my days.

  "I put you in a corner room on the top floor. It's pretty secluded in that area," she said, trying to sound nonchalant, but I could tell she felt sorry for whatever situation she thought I was in.

  I looked at the nametag that was pinned to her shirt. BREE, it said.

  Great. Her name was my new ex-boyfriend's name with a 'B' in front of it.

  My ex-boyfriend, Ree.

  God, no.

  I managed to keep a stiff upper lip while I signed a couple papers that she put in front of me. She stuck a little credit card key into a paper envelope and wrote my room number on it. I mumbled a 'thank you' quickly and turned around before she could see me break down.

  "Take the elevator. It's on the third floor," she called after me.

  "Thank you," I said again without turning to face her. I knew that was rude to do, but I didn't want involve a perfect stranger in my bleak love life. I was in a hurry to be alone, where I didn't have to deal with pretending to be nice to people.

  The elevator took forever to arrive. I got to the third floor and stuck my card in my room's slot, opening the door and letting it close after me.

  It was a small room, but was decent for what I needed. Actually, it was nicer than my old studio apartment, but that wasn't saying much. A three-or-four-foot wall partition sort of divided the 'living' area and the sleeping area. There was a queen-size bed, dresser drawers, a closet area, armchair, one nightstand on the right side, a tiny square table pushed against one wall, and a little work desk on the bed's left side. Two chairs on wheels were in the room—one at the work desk and the other at the small square table, which I guessed was used for eating.

  The part I liked the most, though, was the kitchenette. It had a full-sized refrigerator, a cooktop, a microwave, and a kitchen sink. A quick inspection of the kitchen cabinets revealed they were equipped with cookware, utensils, plates, and even cups. A coffeemaker and toaster stood on the countertop, waiting to be called into action. There were also packets of ready-to-use coffee, sugar, sugar substitute, and powdered creamer, and they were all practically begging me to put them to good use.

  A heavy door next to the kitchen opened up to a full bathroom. After checking out the pristine bathtub, I closed the door and nodded to myself, satisfied with my little living space.

  Who knows how long I'd be living here?

  I sat on my bed and took everything out of my backpack, hanging my shirts in the closet area and putting my shorts, other pair of jeans, underwear and socks in the drawer. I placed the paperback on the desk and put my toiletries in the bathroom.

  I took a short nap then headed out again to get some groceries that would last me at least a week—bread, cereal, eggs, butter, oil, cheese, mushrooms, chicken, fruit snacks, granola bars, milk, juice, and some bottled water to take with me in the morning on my job hunt.

  Returning to my new temporary home, I put the groceries away neatly. There wasn't really a pantry, so I placed my snacks neatly on the counter, off to the side. I watched TV and promptly got tired of that, so I read my paperback a little bit. It was a fantasy novel, and the plot was just beginning to take off.

  I had enough money to get me by for a short time. I did have a car; if my financial situation got really bad, I would sell it. That would give me a lot more money to put into my savings account. I would just take the bus everywhere, which would be easy in Lynnwood and all of Washington, really. Tomorrow morning I'd buy a newspaper and go job hunting.

  Happy that I had a preliminary plan, I was in a pretty decent mood until night fell.

  I sat on the bed and looked out the window as it got dark, peering out at the beautiful trees outside yet seeing nothing at all. My heart was lined with strength, but inside was emptiness and sadness—the knowledge that I'd had the exact person I'd always wanted, as perfect as if I'd created him specifically for myself, but that somehow, stupidly, something went wrong, and he was no longer mine.

  I doubted I would ever forget the expression on his gorgeous face as he put his clothes back on that morning, mouth set in a straight, firm line, no longer speaking to me as if I were the center of his universe. I would never forget that blurry, shaded view of his profile as he, driving his car, backed out of the garage and scurried off into parts unknown.

  His words from a couple days ago echoed through my brain: Morgan Constantina, I love you, just as I have always loved you. My heart nearly swelled but I shut down my emotions quickly, remembering that I had to get over Ree and focus on getting a new job.

  I cried f
or a few minutes, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand like a child.

  I must have dozed off. I awoke to a dark, silent room.

  Fear began to set in before I remembered where I was, and how I had been sitting on my bed just as the sun was going down.

  I groaned a bit and reached over to the back of my neck, which was sore due to the awkward position I'd fallen asleep in—my head and back leaning stiffly on the wall. Carefully, I stood up and felt around for the light that was connected to the bed's headboard and switched it on. Light spilled out to the rest of the room in nanoseconds, reminding me of the impersonal yet cozy place I'd decided to take refuge in after the most heartbreaking morning in history.

  I walked over to the window and peered out into the darkness, seeing mostly trees. A couple of very faint lights shone from the distance. It made me feel vulnerable somehow, so I reached up and closed the drapes.

  KNOCK, KNOCK.

  My body reacted before my brain could—I gasped and jumped about fifty feet in the air. It was a very loud knock, emphasized by the exaggerated quiet in my room.

  I shot a confused look at the door, and was about to ask who it was when I heard a voice. "Maintenance," said a low, muffled voice.

  Tilting my head to the side, I continued staring at the door in wonder for another moment and walked over to it, looking through the peephole, but I saw nothing. Not that the hallway outside was empty—I literally couldn't see anything. "Curious and curiouser," I muttered as I opened the door.

  And right away, I wanted to close it.

  I stared, blinking in disbelief.

  Adim stood there, catching himself from falling as his weight had been on the door—he had obviously been covering the peephole with his hand. It was impossible to miss the smug, wicked grin on his face. It was the look of one who believed he would triumph despite all the odds.

  Like he was the victim.

  I snapped back to reality and started to close the door, but he'd already stuck his arm through.

  "Big spic boyfriend isn't here to save you this time, huh?" he said, walking in with his arms to his side, looking like he was ready to fight.

  Like he was getting ready to fight me?

  Reluctantly, I backed up in order to avoid getting too close to him, my heart beginning to pound hard in my ears.

  Two quick flashes of thought traveled through my brain at once.

  The first thought was from the past: Adim beating me up whenever the hell he felt like it, no matter how dedicated I was to him.

  The second thought was from the immediate future, or an idea of possibility. It consisted of me throwing myself at Adim's feet and begging for his mercy, and him deciding to gut-punch me anyway. I couldn't help but dwell just a little on the fact that there were a couple of pans in the cabinet under the sink, and my heart beat double-time at the thought of getting hit by one of those again.

  And that's when it happened.

  Anger flitted through my thought processes, taking decisive control over my whole body. After I'd just lost Ree, Adim was the last person I wanted to deal with. Who the hell was he to treat me as if I were less than a human being, as if he had any right to control what I ate, thought, or said?

  Who the fuck was he to treat me worse then he would a stray dog?

  I was supposed to have been his partner, someone cherished and respected. If he had a problem with me, he should have talked to me about it instead of letting his fists do all the work.

  No, it wasn't going to be like this anymore. Never again.

  I was going to stand my ground, and never back away from him again. I wasn't afraid. We had no emotional connection, and I had more than fulfilled my side of the relationship—over and over again. I had given him numerous chances, always with the same, violent results.

  "Can't you ever speak respectfully of anybody, ever?" God, I was so fucking tired of hearing his racist and sexist slurs. I was tired of him.

  "I respect people who deserve it."

  I laughed at him. The thought of Adim respecting anybody was right up there with finding Bigfoot. "What makes Ree 'undeserving' of your precious respect?" I was already getting tired of this conversation, but this was something I had to ask.

  He gasped and looked at me as if I'd just asked him the most inane question. "You saw the way he attacked me at your house, Morgan," he said in a tone that clearly indicated Adim viewed himself as a total and utter victim.

  For the next couple of seconds I couldn't say anything other than spurt out sounds as if I were about to speak, shaking my head slightly and getting more and more confused by the second. It was like he was telling me his real name was Bladdim and he was from the planet Schnookus. Was he really that delusional? Did he really believe he was the good guy in all this, after all his violent attacks and name-calling?

  "Adim," I began in a strong, concise manner, "You attacked him. I was there with two other people. You cussed him out and jumped in our house like a lunatic. Ree even told you that he didn't want to fight, but he kicked your ass out anyway, didn't he?" I didn't want to sound too harsh by saying that last part, but it was very irritating talking to Adim when he was being like this, and I couldn't help it. And yeah, I'll admit that I was proud of the fact that Ree kicked his sorry ass.

  It was his turn to be at a loss for words. I looked at him anew.

  I looked at him objectively.

  It was incredible to think that at one time, this hate-filled, delusional man was the center of my universe. There was no magnetic pull that held me to him anymore, and without the magic of that pull, all I could see was his bitter, pathetic exterior.

  He entered the room completely and closed the door, leaving me to panic about my next move. Briefly, I considered my options. Should I call Bree and tell her I had a dangerous person here? He would never let me get to the phone, much less dial or talk on it. Should I scream? I didn't know if there was anyone close by that would hear me.

  A strange expression was on his face, a very odd mix of anger and self-pity. "All right, fine. What do you want me to say, huh? Huh? You want me to say that I'm a fucking piece of shit? Fine, bitch! I'm a piece of shit! Okay? Happy?!"

  "Glad we finally agree on something!" I spat out as I grabbed the coffee maker that was sitting on the kitchen counter and hit him over the head with it. I'd imagined him falling down on the floor, but it was such a tiny thing and I wasn't that strong, so it served only to distract him.

  Shit.

  I subtly backed away and slipped my backpack straps on my shoulders. Glad I had been too lazy earlier to take my shoes off and that my vital stuff was stowed away safely inside the easy-to-bring backpack, I picked up a chair and hit him again, aiming for the left side of the neck, hoping I'd hit part of his face and enough of his body to incapacitate him so I could escape.

  He didn't fall to the floor, but he did fall against the bathroom door that was partially open. Realizing that would never be enough of a setback for me to escape, I hit him again, as hard as I could, thinking of all the times he beat me up and treated me like his personal property. I knew he was much stronger than me, so I forced myself to use these bitter memories to fuel the power I needed to overcome him. I looked at my right hand as it held the chair up over my head, and then quickly moved my eyes to see the arm that was attached to it—that permanent burn placed there by this asshole, this piece of crap that only had bitter things to say about everyone and could do nothing but hate, feel sorry for himself, and then hate some more.

  I have no idea how many more times I struck, or even where on his body I hit him. I thought I might have seen a small spot of blood near his mouth, but I sure as hell didn't stick around to find out. When he became unconscious enough for me, I grabbed my car keys from the little square table and ran out of there was fast as my legs would carry me, my heart pounding in my ears. I ran down the stairs so fast I tripped a few times, but I made it to the ground level in one piece.

  I stumbled to the parking lot and made a des
perate dash for my car, holding my car keys ready in my hand and pressing the unlock button on my key fob. I didn't know if he was chasing me and I didn't bother to look back, figuring it would slow me down if I did.

  I pulled the car door open and stumbled inside, locking all doors as soon as I could. I started the engine immediately, backpack straps still on my shoulders and seat belt not on. Regrettably, the tires screeched as I took off and, as I got to the main street, I thought I saw Adim's stocky figure in my rearview mirror.

  He had probably just gotten down the stairs. Shit.

  I sped up, hoping he wouldn't be able to reach his own car in time. When the hotel was out of sight and I still saw no sign of him, I breathed a sigh of relief, maneuvered my backpack off, and put my seat belt on, slowing down a bit.

  I headed in the direction of Lynndale Park, not knowing where else I could go at this hour and at such short notice.

  It was close to closing time for the park, if it wasn't closed already, so I parked my car on the street, about half a block from the park's entrance. At this point, I didn't care too much if the authorities found me and hauled me away to jail for trespassing. At least then I would be safe. Besides, my choices of hiding places right now were ridiculously limited. After locking my car and sticking my keys in my bag, I put on the backpack and ran my ass off, as far away as possible before Adim could figure out where I'd gone. The more distance I put between him and me, the better.

  I knew this park well—This is where our families gathered for picnics every Sunday when I was a child. Milton Newhall had been there every week as well with his family, and Jordan, his daughter, used to hike and explore with me for hours while our parents sat at one of the picnic tables and gossiped and ate all day. I doubted that Adim would know the park as well as I did—I wasn't sure if he ever did anything remotely active. There weren't any caves that I could hide out in, but trees were plentiful, and one section was actually a forest, which was another advantage.