I'm with You

by Maynard, Glenna

I awake the next morning with Cutter holding me close. I am wrapped in a towel, my cuts are bandaged, and the sheets have been stripped from the bed. Fuck, my legs hurt and my vagina feels like it could use an ice pack.

  I want to run from him and never look back. I am sick at my stomach as the memories of last night dance through my head. I see something in the corner of the room. I raise my head to look and I could swear Harlan was just here. I can feel him nearby. I jerk up out of the bed and make it to the commode before I empty out my guilt, my shame.

  I am going to ruin Cutter and break him just like Harlan did me. But this time I won’t be here for the aftermath. I am in too deep, he cares too much. It was never supposed to go this far. I thought he would have run far and fast when I asked him to cut me, to make me feel. There is a knock on the bathroom door.

  “Are you okay, can I get anything for you?”

  “I am good, thanks.” I say in a snappy tone. Now the paranoia is setting in. How well do I even know this guy? I barely know the guy and he just rocked my fucking world with his massive cock. He fucks like a champ. Cutter knows all of my darkest and deepest secrets and yet I really know nothing of him.

  But a part of me is starting to think he is already fucked up, maybe I won’t break him after all. He was easily swayed to do what I wanted, and he didn’t even flinch when I told him how I like to cut myself. I can’t help it when the uncontrollable laughter bubbles and escapes my throat. His name is fucking Cutter. I cut myself to control the pain to keep the numbing darkness in check, to keep the poison from swallowing me whole and I get involved with a guy named Cutter. How fucking ironic is that?

  Chapter 8

  September

  It’s been three weeks since I shared one of my deepest secrets with Cutter. He is the only person who knows what I do to myself — the first person to see my scars, both the ones I hide inside and out. He hasn’t judged me for it, he seems to understand my pain unlike anyone in this world, even more than Harlan ever could, or would. If Harlan saw me cut myself or if I would have ever dared to ask him to cut me, he would have wanted to have me committed. Then again if Harlan were here I wouldn’t be doing it in the first place.

  I have an appointment today with Dr. Peters. I am not looking forward to it at all. Classes start tomorrow and I am nervous about being around so many people. The whispers and stares don’t bother me. It’s the ones who think I need their pity for what happened who irritate me the most. I deserve everything that comes my way.

  I was told once before by a bitch in school that I am a weak person and I was put on this Earth to be walked on. I guess in a way she was right, Harlan trampled all over me and I let him. That boy could do whatever he wanted and I would accept it willingly.

  He spoon fed me bullshit on a daily basis, and I believed him. Because I wanted so badly for it to be real. Cutter has my thoughts all messed up. He breezes in out of nowhere and has me questioning everything I ever thought I knew. Nothing in my life has ever been real, not even sex, until Cutter. That is why I needed him to prove himself to me. To be honest, had he not hurt me so good, I may not still be here? I may have died in my bathtub and if not then maybe the next day.

  Cutter has gotten himself a job at a local hardware store. He doesn’t know that I see Dr. Peters and I intend to keep it that way. He is working this morning so I don’t have to make up some lame story to him about doing something with my Gram. That is the thing about a lie; it is more work than it is worth. The truth always makes itself known in the end, and one lie leads to two, and that only complicates things further, and I don’t need anymore complications coming in and butt fucking my life up anymore than it already is — fucked. But I don’t want him to know about my thera—rape—me sessions.

  I am meeting Cutter during his lunch break today. I go through my morning routine. I turn my TV to the local news; I like to listen to it while I get ready. It keeps me current. I go through my closet trying to find something to wear but nothing is standing out to me. I don’t understand why the perfect outfit can’t just fling itself from the hangers and say here bitch wear me today, I would look exceptional on you. Okay it would really scare the shit out of me if it did, but it would still be cool.

  Do I go for casual and sophisticated or do I go for sexy and chic. Mercy, I can’t believe I am putting so much thought into meeting Cutter for lunch.

  I haven’t felt Harlan’s presence with me for days. It is probably because he is angry with me, for not being with him. I miss him, but not like I have been. I have still been visiting the falls every morning. Cutter doesn’t like it, but he doesn’t have to. He has been going with me when he doesn’t have to work, but I am glad he isn’t going with me today. I need to talk to Harlan, and I can’t do it while Cutter is lurking behind me and listening to every word. And Harlan isn’t a fan of Cutter. I can’t feel him as strongly when he is with me.

  I settle for my favorite black skinny jeans and my red v neck tee. I style my hair in a loose pony tail. I grab a cup of yogurt for breakfast. Raspberry is my favorite flavor. I slip on my black ballerina flats and head out the door to be met in the hall by Cutter. “Hey aren’t you working today?”

  “Yeah I just wanted to give you this.” He leans in and brushes his lips over my knuckles. After our heated night, I told him I wanted to take this very slow and cautious; I don’t need him falling in love with me. And though it has been weeks, my vagina is still recovering, but that doesn’t mean I’d say no if he wanted to fuck me again. We agreed to a year together, not to be a couple or fuck buddies.

  He is supposed to take me to get a tattoo this weekend. I don’t even know what I want exactly but I will pick something. I walk to the elevator with him still holding my hand. He hasn’t pressured me for anything more than I am ready to give. Right now just being here is all I can offer him, he says that is enough and I hope that it is — because I lost myself when Harlan died. And I’m not sure if I will ever find my way back to the girl I once was, or if I even want to.

  Hurley is waiting in the parking lot for him. I am trying really hard to be more social, but Hurley’s cocky attitude reminds me too much of Harlan, it is hard to be around him. He is planning what he refers to as the most epic Halloween party this town has ever seen. Hurley already has it already decided that Cutter and I will come as the Joker and Harley Quinn, while he and Brianna will dress as Batman and Cat Woman. He — Hurley works at the hardware with Cutter, his uncle owns it. That is how Cutter got the job to begin with. They offer me a ride but I actually enjoy the bus ride to the falls.

  I make it to the bus stop just in time; the driver is actually on time for once. Enjoying the ride in silence I think about what I would be doing right now if Harlan hadn’t died that day. Would we still be together? Would I have still met Cutter? Would something else catastrophic have happened to make me still feel as I do now?

  **

  I start the hike to the bridge, I have traveled this path so many times, and I know every rock, every bump, and every tree. It is amazing how comforting the smallest everyday things can become, the small things we take for granted that surround us every day, but yet we never stand still long enough to notice them. I take a moment to listen to the birds as they sing. When I get to the top of the bridge there is caution tape and a sign posted that the bridge is closed for repairs. Looks like they finally raised enough money to fix all of the wear and tear from the years...

  My chest tightens, and I feel like all of the wind has been knocked from my sails. Don’t they understand how much I need this, to be near him? I realize I forgot to take my medicine this morning. Just great, if I show up to Dr. Peters acting all fidgety he will know I skipped my pills today. I am too scared to go to the cliffs — where Harlan died. I light up a cigarette and walk back down the trail to the marina.

  As I make my way to the bench to wait for the bus, I see fucking tweety bird sitting in her car watching me. Her icy glare is trying to penetrate my shield but it isn’t working.


  You have got to be kidding me, why is she all the way out here? Great she knows I have seen her, hell. I put my cigarette out as she approaches me slowly.

  She looks like whore Barbie. Her blonde hair is blowing behind her in the breeze and her boobs look like they are pushed up so tight under her hot pink tube top, they are about to touch her chin. Does the girl own any clothes? She looks like she is ready to go work a pole somewhere. Doesn’t she know a little mystery goes along way? If you dress cheaply, that is how men will treat you. At least that is what my Gram always taught me.

  Brianna is just one of those girls that once they have pissed in your cheerios, everything about them rubs you the wrong way. Even her shade of pink lipstick makes me want to smack her. She is also one of those annoying people that pops their gum as they chew it and smacks their lips while they eat, just looking at her perfect face makes me want to choke her. Even her teeth are perfect, fucking bitch.

  I can’t help it; she brings out violent thoughts in me. Trust me, five minutes alone with her and you’d feel the same.

  “Can we talk, Bella?” She edges closer but is unsure if she should chance sitting next to me. That’s right doll face, keep back. “Can I give you a ride back to town or something?”

  I agree only because I need to get home and take my medicine and I really don’t want to wait for the bus. I’d really like to tell her to keep it fucking moving, but I rise to start walking to her car and she flinches. I’m not that intimidating am I?

  “Relax I’m not going to hit you, again, you really pissed me off the other day.” I slide into the passenger seat and she follows getting into the drivers side.

  She turns the key in the ignition and turns the volume down on the radio. “Look I am sorry, I shouldn’t have said what I did about you and it was a cunt move. I can’t imagine what the past year has been like for you. I mean if I lost someone I cared for like you cared for Harlan I — I don’t know. But I am truly sorry.” She backs out of the parking lot.

  I guess it is my turn to say something. “Brianna I’m not sure what I ever did to you, to warrant your distaste for me, but it has always been this way between us. And you slept with Harlan and that hurt me, it cut deep.”

  She cuts me off before I can say more.

  “Hold up — pump them brakes for a minute. Why would you think I slept with Harlan — ever? I always messed around with Nolan; it was never serious between us really, but I am not a brother fucker. Well let’s face it you and I both know Nolan is a class A jack-ass. As far as me not liking you, I always felt like you hated me, and Nolan would always tell me you talked shit about me behind my back. But I guess that I should have known coming from Nolan it was meaningless drama. Can we agree to put the past behind us and start over? I really like Hurley, I mean really like him and I know you and Cutter are well friends.”

  She looks at me like she is waiting for me to confirm or deny that Cutter and I are involved. I lean my head against the glass of the window and close my eyes to digest what she has said. Can I trust her, should I trust her? Fuck it, I will give her a chance, I am low in the friend department and I guess beggars can’t be choosers.

  “We’re cool Brianna, I guess we will be seeing a lot of each other on campus and it would be nice to have someone to eat lunch with.” There I was nice to Brianna Jenkins and the ground didn’t open up and swallow me. The universe is playing a sick joke on me, Brianna turns the volume back up on the radio and We are gonna be friends, by the White Stripes is playing.

  Chapter 9

  I ride my bike to Dr. Peter’s office. I am running a few minutes behind so it will get me to his office quicker than hoofing it. I take my usual place on the chaise and lay back. The dead ferns are still taking up space. I shake my head, why doesn’t he throw them out?

  He takes out his pad and pen, and for once his actions don’t seem to irritate me like they normally do. I notice that he is looking at me strangely; he has an odd look on his face. Almost as if he is somewhere else, a vacant expression of sorts. Perhaps he his lost back in time somewhere, I know how he feels. I find myself trying to revisit the past often. I snap my fingers at him breaking his thoughts.

  “Sorry, I am not myself today Bella.” He shakes his head momentarily. “You know you look more like your mother everyday.” He scratches his chin and crosses his ankles.

  “You knew my mother?”

  “All of her life, I took her to my senior prom. We went our separate ways for college, but yeah I knew her well. How much do you know about your parents? That’s one thing we haven’t discussed.” He doesn’t pick up his pen and pad to make notes like he usually does.

  His choice of topic today catches me off guard. I don’t know much about them, other than what Gram has told me. I tell him the basics, which is all I know. Gram has said that my mother died shortly after I was born due to unspecified complications. My father joined the military, and later went into the CIA or something of that nature. He was killed on a mission overseas. I live off money that was left to me for his bravery, at least that is what I have always been told.

  Doc wants to know why I don’t talk about them much and I explain how I couldn’t miss something I never had. I don’t feel much like discussing the whole parent thing. Gram always tried to make me feel special on days like mother’s day, but it was apparent at school, when they would have days to have your mother there — or when they would hold a father/daughter dance that I didn’t have a traditional family. Gram tried her best she really did, but taking your Gram as your date for the daddy dance was not a cool kid move.

  Changing the subject I tell him about my run in with Brianna, I figure it will please him to know I am trying to make friends. I don’t tell him anything about Cutter. Don’t need him reading more into it than there is. And I definitely do not want to slip and tell him about the crazy deal I entered into with Cutter — the one where he is giving me a year to complete my list. He would not like the idea I am sure. I suppose he’d like the part where Cutter stopped me from taking my own life, but that’s be about it. I leave his office in a better mood and head to Nelly’s Kitchen to meet up with Cutter for lunch.

  “Thought about that tattoo yet?” He asks as he rips into his bag of chips. He pours them out onto his plate beside of his steak sandwich.

  “I think I want a rose vine with drops of blood trickling from the thorns. I want it to start on my lower back and curve up under my left breast.”

  “Perfect.” He mumbles between bites. I play with my grilled chicken salad I’m not really all that hungry. My medicine is causing my stomach to be upset since I didn’t take it with food. And I am supposed to take my doses around the same time everyday for it to work properly.

  “I hope you don’t mind but I invited Hurley and Brianna to go with us. Hurley said she was going to talk to you today. Did she?”

  “Yeah, it’s cool. She and I have had a lifetime of misunderstandings. I am willing to try to give her the benefit of the doubt though. I will tolerate her — for you.” I am starting to think there are a lot of things I’d do for Cutter, it makes me feel uneasy.

  “Don’t let this go to your head but you are sort of awesome.” Cutter steals a bite of my salad.

  “Here take it, I can’t eat it,” I slide my dish across the table to him. He must be starving; he eats over half of my lunch a long with his.

  He runs his fingers across my jaw before we go our separate ways, he has to get back to work and I want to pay a visit to my Gram’s house. Dr. Peters has my parents on my brain. I know Gram still has some of their things in the attic. She would never let me go in there as a child, but I am an adult now. And now I wonder what it is that she doesn’t want me to see, or find out. I never thought much of it when I was younger, but now looking back I find it odd. She was always reluctant to talk about them with me. And she always made sure to keep the attic locked up tight. You’d think she has a national treasure stashed up there.

  I light up a smoke and grab my bike
from the rack out front. Mrs. Rivers is coming from the flower shop up the street. I duck into the nearest alleyway and go through the back streets to Gram’s house. I weave between the dumpsters located between the back entrances to the shops that line Main Street. I hate coming through here, the trash always smells awful, not to mention the crazy stray cats that are lurking waiting to pounce on their next meal.

  I am still not ready to talk to her — Mrs. Rivers. I can’t bear to look into her eyes and see her grief. It is too much. An ache tears through my chest. My heart shreds once more as I think of her missing Harlan. His mom has always been good to me. She would always make comments about me making a beautiful bride someday. I think she had hopes of Harlan settling down and getting serious with me. And I too had those hopes for a while, but now that will never be — at least not in this lifetime.

  I try to stop the poison from bubbling and coiling around my heart, willing myself to remember what I have set out to do today. Mission discover who I came from, commences. I round the curb by Grams and push my bicycle through the back gate. I take pause when I spy Gram sitting on the patio with Dr. Peters. He must have driven over here as soon as I left his office and parked out front.

  She is serving him tea; it looks like they are having a lunch date — how sweet. Gently laying my bike in the grass, I slowly creep behind the tool shed. They haven’t spotted me, so I try to get a closer listen at their conversation.

  “How much does Bella really know about Adeline’s death?” I listen intently as he takes a drink of his tea.

  Gram’s reply catches me off guard. Deep down I suppose her story of my parents never really fit, but when you are child feelings like those are easily forgotten or buried until they resurface, like today for instance.

  “Well I told her what we agreed would be best to tell a child of her age when she began to ask questions. I told her that she passed away after child birth, due to complications. Bella was young enough she didn’t press it my further and I always have left it at that.”