Damaged

by Leona Keyoko Pink

  He sighed, annoyed. He didn’t seem interested in answering my questions. I know I should have been upset that he was being so rude but I was just so happy that he was here, meeting with me, talking to me. I opened my mouth but before I could ask anything, he asked a question of his own. “How did you find me?”

  “Oh, well, I...it’s kind of weird.” I said with a chuckle. I wasn’t exactly sure how I’d explain it. I’d never really said it out loud to anyone. I knew it sounded crazy, finding someone through your dreams. But I supposed if anyone would understand it would be him, considering that was how we met. I opened my mouth to speak and again he cut me off before I could utter a single word.

  “Whatever...forget it!” he said sharply, changing his mind. He stepped back angrily, “I just came here to tell you to leave me and my friends alone. Don’t bother going to the cafe again. None of us are ever goin-”

  “I don’t understand,” I said, interrupting him this time, “Why are you always so mad at me?”

  “I don’t like you,” he said bluntly.

  It was like a slap across the face. “Why...you, you don’t even know me!” I pointed out.

  “I don’t want to know you!” he spat bitterly, “I don’t want anything to do with you!”

  “But why? Have I done something wrong?” I scrambled to think how I could have possibly offended him but absolutely nothing came to mind. A moment of silence passed between us as I waited for him to answer my questions but he didn’t. He just said once again, “Just stay away! Don’t look for me, don’t look for them! Just stay the fuck away from us!”

  His words were cold, harsh. His face was twisted in disgust. I could tell he couldn’t stand to be around me. He truly did not like me... Maybe he...even despised me...hated me. I didn’t understand why. I felt crushed. I trembled as tears welled up in my eyes. For so long I had been searching, waiting for this moment and he...he… I didn’t understand. If he...if he wanted nothing to do with me then why...why had he saved me? I lashed out, “Why...Why, if you hate me so much, if you want nothing to do with me so badly, WHY DID YOU SAVE ME!?”

  I regretted saying it immediately. What he did, saving me, meant the world to me. I shuddered to think what would have happened if he hadn’t shown up but I was upset. So many emotions tore through me all at once. I was confused, disappointed, frustrated, but most of all hurt. Here I was standing in front of the man I’d been looking for, the man of my literal dreams, and he hated me…absolutely wanted nothing to do with me. And he wouldn’t even tell me why.

  He looked dumbstruck and stared at me with those ocean blue eyes of his. He shook his head and for a moment it looked like he might speak but he thought better of it, pursing his lips. He turned around without a word and started to walk away. I felt like a piece of me was shattering and being torn away…

  I panicked, knowing this might be the last time I saw him. There were so many things I wanted to say, needed to know, but one question stood out among them all. Without hesitation I asked, “Why...Why am I the girl you die for?”

  He froze then and I watched him clench his fists. I stared at his back for what felt like the longest time but was probably only a matter of seconds. I heard him let out a heavy sigh and watched him unclench his fists. He lifted his hood and started walking again. It was clear he wasn’t going to answer. As far as he was concerned, he’d said all he had to say to me.

  I just stood there and watched him walk away, watched him disappear from my sight. When I could no longer see him my chest felt like it was going to cave in. I felt like I couldn’t breathe...like I couldn’t think beyond this moment. I gasped for air and shook as tears began to escape from my eyes. I turned around and got the urge to run and so I did.

  I broke into a run, moving as fast as I could. I wanted to get away from this moment...this feeling. I wanted to escape. I ran so fast and so hard that I wasn’t looking where I was going. I ran into a man and nearly knocked us both to the ground.

  I stumbled back, hearing the man grunt in pain. I apologized profusely, tears streaming down my cheeks. I didn’t look up. I didn’t wait for the man to respond. I rushed past him and burst into a run once more. Suddenly I felt cold, shivering. I wondered it if was later than I thought and wrapped my coat tightly around me, hurrying home.

  Chapter Six

  I made it home in record time as a thunderstorm roared out across the city. When I got up to my apartment, I stood in my living room and saw the lightning was clustered in one area in the distance. There were so many strikes all at once that I watched it for a moment. If I wasn’t so upset I might have thought it was beautiful but it only seemed to make me sadder.

  I placed my hand on the cold window. I watched the rain cascade down the glass and let it all come out, crying and sobbing. The sun slowly set and as it got darker and darker, I realized I hadn’t turned on any lights. I supposed I should and pulled myself away from the window. I turned and came face to face with my wall…my stupid fucking wall of dreams.

  I stumbled up to it and fell to my knees before it. I looked over it with tearful, blurry eyes and felt foolish...ashamed. All this time, all this effort, and all that hope… I had thought once I found them, found him, things would be better. I would get the answers to my questions and finally understand everything. But now, now, it was over... done.

  I closed my eyes and relived Em yelling at me, looking at me with such hate and disgust. Everything I’d been pursuing, looking for, all of it was pointless...pointless. I felt more lost and confused than ever. I felt so alone. I shuddered and felt like I was going to fall apart. But when I opened my eyes, when I looked back at my wall, I found myself bitter and then angry. Oh, so angry!

  Without thinking, I leapt from my knees and went at the wall. I dragged my hands across it, ripping and tearing down what I could. I wanted to destroy it. I wanted to bury it. I wanted all of it to go away. I tore down every last piece of paper and then went to my special notebooks. I tore into them, shredding them to pieces.

  Soon enough I found myself sitting in a pile of shredded dreams. It...It still wasn’t enough. Nearly hyperventilating, I stood up and rushed to my kitchen like a mad woman. I ripped out a garbage bag and began to fill it up with all the shreds. I picked up every last piece and ran out of my apartment. I didn’t bother using the trash chute. I didn’t wait for the elevator. I ran downstairs and outside to where the dumpsters were kept. I took the bag and emptied it all into the trash. I was so upset I would have burned it all if I could have.

  I knew...I knew I was just deflecting, trying to take the pain away and stop the anguish burning within me. I stumbled back and stood in the rain. It was coming down hard and in the distance I could hear thunder roar. I looked up at the sky and let myself get drenched.

  I clenched my fists and told myself, what did it matter if he didn’t want to see me, to know me? What did it matter if none of them wanted anything to do with me? I was overreacting. Who were these people to me? Nothing...nothing. And yet, I had taken comfort and shelter in them from my life, from my fears.

  I realized just how dark it was and couldn’t recall the last time I’d let myself be out this late, especially without a weapon and in such a secluded place. Normally I would have panicked but I found in this moment, I didn’t care. What did any of it matter, my searching, my little rituals, they all meant nothing, everything, was pointless in the end.

  I stood there bitterly choking back my tears. I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of thunder and just let myself be washed away. When I eventually came to my senses I was soaking wet, cold. I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself. I went back inside my apartment building. I took the elevator back up and when I got to my apartment I found I hadn’t even shut the front door. I didn’t care. I just went in and shut the door behind me. I didn’t bother with the locks or even the lights.

  I felt tired and numb. I barely had the energy to change into a night gown. I crawled into bed and slid under my covers. I lay on my
back for a while, staring up at the ceiling. It occurred to me I didn’t know what I was going to do now. Nearly everything I did, all my plans, were set on finding them... I curled up thinking it didn’t matter right now. Whatever I was going to do could wait until tomorrow.

  I closed my eyes and turned to lie on my side. I groaned when I realized I still had work in the morning. Maybe I would call in. Maybe I would just quit and go home. I yawned and began to recall each and every look Em had given me and those beautiful, hateful eyes of his. Something about them tore into me. My chest ached, feeling heavy. I clutched my pillow tightly and cried myself to sleep.

  **********

  I found myself in a dark stairwell. I watched a hooded figure slowly descend some stairs. I knew it was Em. I knew this feeling all too well, now. I realized I was dreaming and I...I didn’t want to be here. Not after he’d made things clear. He hated me...wanted me to go away. I wanted to leave, to dream something else, but I’d never gone before. Usually I always tried to find him and once I had, I tried to stay with him as long as I could.

  He unlocked a door and I followed him into a dark basement apartment. I could hear a phone ringing inside. I watched him flick on some lights and looked around. I realized this must be where he lived. It looked somewhat familiar but not really. I recognized the light fixture but that was about it. I’d probably only been here once or twice before.

  Em stumbled forward and I took a better look at him. I noticed he was soaking wet. He pulled off his hood and looked absolutely miserable. ‘Good!’ I thought. I wasn’t the only one. Though I doubted he was miserable because of me. Something else must have happened. I told myself it didn’t matter...I didn’t care. I just wanted to go.

  I focused wanting to leave and go somewhere else but the phone just kept ringing and ringing. I found it distracting. I expected him to answer it but he didn’t. He glanced in its direction but made no attempt to answer it. He just stood there, dripping and staring off into space. Eventually the phone stopped ringing and he shuffled into his kitchen. He pulled a paper bag out his jacket. He removed a bottle of hard liquor from the paper bag and placed it on his table. He pulled out a chair and then sat down and stared at it.

  I could see he wanted to drink it but was hesitant. I watched him for a moment and then turned away. I focused on leaving once more and the dream started to grow hazy. I was doing it! I was doing it! I focused harder and then I heard something, a pounding. I turned around and saw Em had slammed his fist down on the table.

  I watched his face scrunch up. He looked pained. He ran a hand across his face and then pounded his fist on the table again. He grabbed the bottle of hard liquor and tore off the lid. He lifted it up to his lips. I watched him close his eyes and smell. He made the decision and leaned his head back to take a drink but at the last minute, resisted.

  He screamed and threw the bottle against the wall. It shattered, glass and liquor went everywhere. I watched him as he flung himself to his feet. With a cry like a wounded animal he grabbed the edge of the table and sent it flying through the room to splinter against a wall. Before it had even impacted, he’d grabbed the chair he’d been sitting and smashed it into pieces against the floor. I’d never seen him like this… I pulled back, watching him pace madly into his kitchen. The lights flickered and I heard thunder roar. He paused suddenly and looked up. He cursed and wiped his nose.

  I heard the ringing of a phone again. I saw it was on a wall in the kitchen. He looked at it but again made no attempt to answer it. This time it rang and rang again and again and again. He ran his hands through his hair, messing it before he went to the phone and nearly tore it out of the wall, answering it. “I KNOW! I FUCKING KNOW! I’M GETTING IT UNDER CONTROL!”

  Someone on the other end of the phone spoke and it seemed to calm him down a bit. He closed his eyes, listening, and I wondered who he was talking to. Without thinking I floated close and brushed against him. His hair moved slightly and he dropped the phone. He looked around, spooked. He ran his hand over where I had just brushed him. I wondered if he could feel me. I reached out to touch him again when I heard something fall to the floor and roll.

  **********

  I opened my eyes and sat up in the dark. I looked around groggily, sleepily. I tried to recall where I was...what had happened. I’d been with Em…no, I’d been dreaming. The dream was slowly beginning to fade from my mind. I knew I had to jot it down quickly or I would forget it. I scrambled to find my phone but it wasn’t there.

  I felt around for it, confused. Usually I kept it close. I ran a hand across my face and then sighed, recalling what had happened. I lay back down in bed and supposed I was done recording my dreams. I closed my eyes and tried to go back to sleep when I heard the floor creak. I got up on my elbows and scanned the room. It was dark but there was still some light flickering in from a window. I saw the outline of a figure standing in my bedroom doorway.

  I froze, realizing someone was here. Without thinking I called out, “Who….who’s there?”

  I heard my floor creak again and saw the silhouette of the figure move. It...It almost looked like a shadow and I was reminded of one of my old nightmares. I carefully pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. My skin stung and I knew this was real. The figure took another step forward and I took action. I rolled off my bed and grabbed hold of a metal bat I kept there for protection. I flicked on my bedside lamp and the room lit up.

  It was almost blinding and it took a second for my eyes to adjust. When they did I saw a man in my room and he...was naked. Horrified, I looked at him. There appeared to be something wrong with him. He looked decrepit. His skin was pale and sickly. It looked like it was just hanging off his bones. I could see his ribcage and his arms and legs were so tiny. I couldn’t be sure of his age. He was hunched over and had long, stringy hair and an unkempt beard.

  I loosened the grip on my bat, wondering if he was homeless or perhaps mentally ill. Had he walked in off the streets? I’d been so upset earlier I...I couldn’t recall if I’d locked my door. I looked at him, unsure of what I should do. Should I call the police or an ambulance? I was freaked out but lowered my bat slightly, thinking I should probably try talking to him. He probably had no idea where he was or even what was going on.

  The man wheezed and said something I didn’t catch. I strained my ears to listen and thought I heard him wheeze, “Becca...”

  I looked at him, confused. How did he know my name, my true name? He stumbled forward. I became alert once more and called out to him, “STAY BACK!”

  He didn’t listen and our eyes connected as he took another step. My lips parted and I gasped. I shivered as I found I...I knew this man...knew him all too well. Those eyes of his, that color was unmistakable. No matter how glossy, how hollow, they still flickered…flickered with the color of ice. I could never, would never, forget those eyes.

  My skin crawled and my stomach sunk. This gruesome, grotesque man before me... was...was Lyndon Craw. My eyes widened at the realization. I briefly wondered what the fuck had happened to him. Clearly the years had not been kind to him. If it weren’t for his eyes I never would have known it was-

  “Becca...Becca,” he wheezed happily, drawing me from my thoughts. “My Becca!”

  I cringed, pulling back, but found I wasn’t afraid. I wasn’t afraid. I didn’t speak. I didn’t scream. I had thought of this day, this moment, so many times in my head. I had pictured what might happen, what he might do to me. I had thought of what I would do but I could never be certain just how I would truly react. Part of me had always been afraid I would crumble, that I would fall apart at the mere sight of him. But as he took another step forward I didn’t buckle.

  Something surged within me, a wave of emotions I’d suppressed for years. For a moment there was sickness, but almost instantly it was replaced with something else; fury. As adrenaline pumped through my veins, the rage filled me and strengthened my resolve. After everything this monster had done to me, I’d known he would n
ever leave me alone. As sick as he was, I’d know that someday this would happen, that he would come for me. I had pictured this moment so many times. My fingers tightened around the bat until they hurt and I trembled in anticipation of what was about to come… Vengeance.

  He stepped forward towards me, his arms reaching for me, trying to embrace me. He seemed almost to be moving in slow motion. I exhaled as I swung the bat. It was moving so slowly, but I could hear the air whistling as it sliced towards him. I would never let this mother fucking bastard touch me ever again. I gritted my teeth, straining against the bat as hard as I could.

  He raised his hands to block the swing, but too slowly. Far too slowly. The end of my bat struck his face. I watched the impact in slow motion, the bat caving in his lower jaw, the spray of blood and teeth, and the jerk of his body as it spun him around. He staggered back and into the wall, his mangled face unable to show expression. But I could see the shock in his eyes.

  I remembered all those afternoons behind my house breaking watermelons, how they cracked, split, splattered and exploded everywhere. Each and every time I had pictured Lyndon Craw and what he had done to me. Lyndon tried to speak, to sputter something through his shattered face, but his mangled words fell on deaf ears, just as my words had all those years ago…

  His hands began to move again, but I didn’t give him a chance to get a hold of whatever he was reaching for. I stepped forward, for once in my life the aggressor in this sick relationship. I was the one in control now. Swinging the bat again, I smashed it into his arm. He croaked in pain as my bat shattered his bones. He was trying to say something through his mangled face but I was beyond caring.

  All the years of terror, all the pain I’d suffered, all the damage he’d done to me seemed to flow out of me and into the bat. I was nearly mindless with it, overcome with the wave of emotions tearing through me. Lifting the bat I swung again and again, shattering his bones and driving him to his knees. He reached out with his good hand, fingers scraping along my arm and chest.