by K. L. Jessop
All of this is wrong.
I should be the one to take care of her, love her right, yet here she is doing her best to care for me, all because those fuckers have made me this way. Why should I burden someone who is so pure and precious with me and my shitty fucking bipolar? She doesn’t deserve it. Any of it.
That twisted part of me had wanted those people to pay for what they have caused, but my rage had spiralled—I’d lashed out at the wrong person.
And now she’s broken on the floor and terrified of the man who wants nothing more than to love her as she deserves.
I did this.
"Blue…" I whisper. The frustration in me when I try to reach out but have the cuffs dig into my wrists is unbearable, but I contain it because I don’t want to scare her any more than I already have. Keeping my voice low, I try and connect with her. “Pepper, look at me.”
Her breathing begins to regulate, the hiccups of her sobs catching her ever so often.
“Please… let me find you.”
Time seems to go on forever but when her hands move from her face, her red eyes find mine. Relief clutches at my heart when I see there’s no blood—I never hit her—but even from across the floor, I can see the agony in her eyes. Where her blues once sparkled and made me safe, they now are clouded with a fear that rips me apart, making me feel like the monster she’s had the misfortune of witnessing. The bile in my throat burns as I watch her body tremble, my heart breaking because I want to wrap my arms around her to protect her like I should have done.
As we both rest on the floor, we hold each other’s fretful gazes, and I plead with her in silence to forgive me as tears fill my eyes.
I need to know what she is thinking. I need to hear her voice because that has become my lifeline. She has become my home—the one that makes my heart beat and the one that makes me realise that I can be loved. But like everything, I’ve gone and destroyed her just like I do anything else. How could I do this to her?
I’m such a fucking monster.
“Blue…” My voice cracks as a tear slips over my nose. Her arm extends out along the floor ever so slightly as if she’s trying to reach me, but it stops.
When her eyes leave mine, I’m desperate to have then back on me, needing to know she’s okay, needing to show her that I’m sorry.
The silence in the room is so loud as the three of us wait, watch, come down from the train wreck that I have yet again caused, but my eyes don’t leave my girl.
When I notice the sudden confusion on her face, I need to know what she’s thinking more than ever. "Talk to me, Pepper."
As she begins to lift her unsteady body off the floor, I’m instantly envious of Emmet as he goes to help her and wraps his arms around her. The metal of the cuffs burns my wrists as I try and free myself, knowing there’s no use. I need her with me. I need her strength because without hers I have nothing, but as she turns her frail body and heads for the door, my heart stops and the panic in me makes me cold. “No, don’t, Pepper. Please—"
When the door closes, the emptiness that rapidly hits my heart is all too familiar and I’m suddenly taken back to the riverbank as my fourteen-year-old self falls in a heart-shattering heap. Now, the one woman I want in my life just as much as I want my sister has walked away from me without looking back.
What have I done?
"Fuck!" I bark before my heart truly breaks and my body erupts as the remorse hits me so strongly. I can’t do anything but ride it out. For the first time in years, I don’t fight with my emotions, I let them pour out of me like fresh blood seeping out of an open wound with no control.
I cry.
And my God don’t I cry.
With my head pressing against the hardwood of my floor, I let the onslaught take over and hope every falling tear is another layer of my twisted soul leaving me so I can once again become the man I love to be when I’m with Pepper. The last thing I’ve ever wanted to do is hurt her, and not only have I gone and done it, I’ve done it in a way so terrible that I fear she will never forgive me. And I wouldn’t blame her. The agonising wedge in my chest at the thought of losing her is excruciating. My heart is in tatters, more so than it was just hours before I slept, and what’s worse is that this depressive stage I’m in will last far longer than I want it to now that she’s gone.
I will fall deeper.
I will hate myself harder.
The longer I’m sucked into this dark and deadly world, the longer it will be before I can even begin to try and explain to her why I’m still so confused. When I’m in this twisted and tortured part of my mind, half the time I don’t know what I’m doing and when I realise what I have done, I’ve already caused too much damage—damage that can never be repaired. And now the devil in me has damaged her so badly that the real me can do nothing but live with that guilt every single day from here on in.
He did it—the monster in me—and right now he’s laughing like every fucker else.
“Why me!” I roar through my tears to anyone that’s willing to listen. “Why am I constantly punished by this beast inside me.”
Strong hands grip my arms and I’m lifted to my knees. Only then do I realise I have been freed before my friend pulls me towards his body and wraps his arms around my shoulders with a hold so tight it secures me like never before. Needing every bit of strength, I hold onto Emmet like my life depends on it as my tears continue to erupt.
“I’ve got you, Dex. It’s going to be okay.” His calm voice barely touches the surface as the rage in me still burns like wildfire yet I’m too weak to fight back. More importantly, I don’t want to.
How can it be okay? Nothing is ever okay when the devil wakes. I love Pepper and I’ve gone and ripped her heart out with my own bare hands and frightened her to the point I doubt I will ever see her again.
I’ve ruined everything. I’m a lost cause—a worthless arsehole with so many haunts. Haunts I now deserve to have after the unforgivable mistake I’ve made with Pepper.
The voice of my addictive mother plays on repeat in my head, speaking the words I’ve never forgotten.
“You’ll turn out to be a fucking monster just like the rest.”
And she was right.
I don’t know how long I’ve slept but when my eyes open, a low evening glow is cast around me.
I look up at the ceiling of my place.
I can’t breathe.
This heavy weight of guilt crushes me even harder than it had done earlier. My space feels emptier already. The bed is colder than the city grounds, and if this hollow ache in my heart is trying to kill me, then I want the pain to belong and slow, a gruelling punishment for what my bare hands have had the power to do.
I’ve broken her.
Even though I want her eyes on me so this devastation inside will ease, the thought of them are drowning my thoughts and it’s painful to process. Closing my own eyes, I try to block out the memory of her beauty, but the vision is quickly replaced with her pinned against the wall with my hand around her throat, her nails digging at my skin as she cries, begging me to stop.
My stomach twists in knots at the thought. The anguish in the depths of my soul is like nothing I’ve ever felt, and once again, my eyes fill with shameful tears before they slip down my temples.
She will never forgive me.
“How did you sleep?” I hear Emmet ask from across the room.
With the amount of alcohol I’ve consumed over the past forty-eight hours and the gut-wrenching state my body was left in once I realised my actions, I’ve slept heavy. The correct term is that I’ve slept better than I should have but I’ve still woken up wishing I hadn’t. My head is pounding. My body fees like I’ve been crushed, my heart an explosion of feelings, fears and shame.
“Not enough because I’m still breathing, wishing I wasn’t.”
“Don’t say that.”
I can hear the hurt in his voice. I’m surprised he’s still here, considering everything he’s witnessed. I don’t des
erve his friendship just like I don’t deserve to walk this war of worlds any longer. All I do is break people down because I can’t stand the punishment that I’ve suffered with for years.
“I’m such a mess, Emmet. I don’t know which way to turn anymore.”
“We’ll sort it out, Dex. I promise you. You’re not on your own here.”
“Then why do I feel so alone?”
“Because you have an illness inside you that is making you feel that way. I can’t even begin to comprehend what it’s like for you to walk in this world battling with that, but you have to try and remember, Dex, that there are people who love you and want to support you. You just have to let them,” he says quietly as I continue to focus on the ceiling, trying to process his words.
“There’s only you now. Everyone else is gone, and I’m just left here paying the price for my actions. My life has been worse than death row. I deserve everything that’s coming to me.”
Coming over, Emmet stands over me with a glass of water and my medication, a look on his face. I can’t work out if it’s disappointment or anger. Either way, it’s a look that cuts deep. “You’ll feel better if you start taking these.”
Sitting up, I rest my back on the cold wall and take the glass and meds from him. I swallow down the bitter pill and shame slices through me. I should have been more responsible; I shouldn’t have taken the feeling that Pepper created as a new form of survival. As much as she helps me breathe, she’ll never fix this fucking sickness inside.
Like he can read my thoughts, Emmet asks me the very question. "Why have you stop taking your meds?”
Like it never really left, Pepper’s face haunts my mind. Her beautiful smile. Her adorable laugh. The way she makes me feel when we were together. Everything about her has changed the person I thought I was. But I’ve tarnished that, too.
“Because for the first time in my life, I felt alive. She made me feel things I never thought I’d feel. She’s brought warmth to my heart that has been cold for too long. So, I stopped taking them.”
“Jesus, Dex. You can’t just stop.”
“I know.”
“I get what you’re saying but the meds help control your moods; they are important.”
“I know!” I bark.
“Do you though? Because it seems to me like you have no idea and you not only put yourself in the firing line, but you put Pepper in a position that could have been life-changing for so many people.”
“Don’t you think I know that?”
With him standing over me like I’m a child, it stirs up the anger that’s been simmering inside. The reminder of what I’ve done soars across my chest like a fireball and it has me leaping to my feet, only where I would normally stand and give him the forefront of my rage, I push past him because the last thing I want to do is lash out. I know what I’m capable of and right now; I need as much space as I can. And a drink.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Emmet so just leave it!”
“How can I when I walked in to find your hand around her throat?”
I slam my eyes shut, needing him to stop as the abuse I inflicted on her replays over and over. “I’ll sort it. I’ll make her see it wasn’t me.” Going to the cupboard, I open the door and find it empty. The fridge is the same, and the more I try and search for the one thing that can release this raging war inside, the more my body itches for it. I’m agitated, upset and just want this fucked up merry-go-round of torment to stop. My friend isn’t helping with his constant fucking nagging.
“The only way you can even begin to try and sort this is by telling Pepper everything.”
“No.” My hands begin to sweat. My stomach starts to cramp.
I need a drink.
“She doesn’t need to know. I’ll make her understand it wasn’t the real me. I’ll show her how much I care.”
“How much you care? Dexter, what you care about right now is fucking alcohol because you’ve not even stopped to ask me if she’s okay?”
I see red. My skin burns. My breathing is harsh because of his constant pushing and my heart aches because everything he says is true. I love her more than I ever thought I could, and my desperation right now is a poison that will only continue to simmer unless I change.
“This constant father act you’re putting on is getting a little tiring. Go find yourself a woman, or better still, go fuck some prostitute and release the tension that your right hand has clearly given up on. Either way, the release might help you find a small amount of empathy for what is really happening in my life and stop this constant shame you’re trying to bring. Pepper is everything to me and you’ve got no fucking idea what I’m feeling right now, Emmet, and certainly no clue when it comes to losing someone you love.”
"Don't you dare stand there and say I've got no idea!" he roars, his face is blazing as he storms closer, hitting his fist against his chest. "I have every fucking idea what it's like to lose someone I love, and believe me it's the worst feeling I've ever felt. The only difference is, Dexter, I can't bring my Hannah back. You could have a life you want—if you’d just open your mouth and speak the goddamn truth you’re so cowardly hiding behind."
My way of trying to hurt him has backfired as his words smack me so hard it’s like a whirlwind. What’s worse is that the way he’s looking at me with tears in his eyes it’s clear I’ve hurt someone else in all of this. It was a low blow that I regret. I’ve said some things in the past when I’ve been mad at him, but never have I brought Hannah up because I know how much she meant to him.
Like my body has given up on me altogether, I slide down to the ground and rest my arms on my knees, hanging my head low with so much shame.
Emmet is right. Everything in my mind is spinning. I don’t know what’s the right thing to do first, so before giving any thought to anything or anyone else, I’ve reached for the one thing that numbs it all in one hit. JD. Not once have I asked about Pepper, but the truth is that it’s not because I don’t care, it’s because I’m frightened of hearing the words I don’t wish to hear. Having this constant weight on my fucking shoulders, I’m defeated once again, and my eyes burn.
“Forgive me,” I whisper. “I shouldn’t have questioned your feelings for Hannah. It was uncalled for.”
“No shit.”
“I can’t think straight, Emmet. You don’t know what it’s like to be in my twisted head. I don’t know what I’m doing when I feel like this. This isn’t me. You know this isn’t me.” I don’t even try to stop the onslaught of tears that leave my wretched body. I let each one fall hoping that it relieves me of this exhausting discomfort that’s entwined with the deepest guilt.
“I could have killed her,” I weep, as though I’m finally registering the raw truth of what I’ve done. “Oh, God. What have I done?”
Emmet comes and sits beside me, the two of us mirroring each other’s position as his closeness brings a much-needed comfort to my fractured world. I can sense that my verbal whiplash has hit him far deeper than I ever wanted it to, and it cuts at my insides along with everything else. I love this guy like a brother, and if it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be here today, regardless of how much I sometimes wish I wasn’t.
I don’t know how long either of us sit here but my breakdown calms, and we rest, silently apologising to each other. But like clockwork, the quiet brings back the faces of the one person I can’t stop thinking about.
“Have you spoken to Pepper?” I ask, breaking the silence.
“Only by text. I tried to ring but she wouldn’t pick up. She says she’s doing okay.”
“Did she ask of me?” I already know the answer, so I don’t know why I’m putting myself through the torture of asking.
“All she said was that you need help and that she’s not strong enough to provide it.”
I close my eyes.
I’ve lost her, too.
I think back over the past couple of days and the reasons my mood has changed. I’d been able to feel
myself retreating faster than I was trying to hold on.
“Everything got too much,” I admit. “Not with Pepper, the two of us were doing great, but then I unexpectedly found myself in a family situation when her parents arrived home early. She was so happy to see them and the love they have for Pepper is noticeable. I’ve never hated life so much because I’ve never had that. We never had that. Then, I realised that being with Pepper had stopped me from thinking about Tessa, and I’ve never felt betrayal like it. I’d stopped painting. I’d stopped thinking. I’d stopped wondering. Before I knew it, I was once again trying to find the answer with a poison that never helps while I wallowed in guilt and hopelessness.”
“And you couldn’t tell Pepper your reasons because she doesn’t know the story.”
“I told her I needed a little space, but like the firecracker she is, she charged in any way.”
“She cares, Dex. More than I think you know. Or more that I think you want to believe.” His honesty cuts deep.
“Tell me what to do, Emmet,” I whisper. “Tell me how I can make it right.”
“I’ve been trying to tell you for years, but you won’t listen.”
“I am listening now. I can’t lose Pepper. I want to love and protect her.”
He shifts his position and faces me. “But don’t you get it? You can’t protect her or anyone else until you learn to protect yourself. And to do that you need help—proper help that we can’t give you. Talk to someone about the life you’ve had rather than drowning yourself in the nightmares that add to your troubles.”
I don’t know how many times Emmet has tried to get me to talk. I’ve been to the doctor’s to get my bipolar label and for medication reviews, but that’s it. Each time I go back, I refuse the offer of extra support, not because I believe I don’t need it, but because I believe I’m better off being punished by this fucking illness.
But things have changed, I may want to feed my demons but its destroying others in the process.
“You think that will work?”
