“Hmm?” I reach for his jaw, but he slaps my hand away.
The stinging of his rejection vibrates through me with the intensity of an earthquake. His lustful expression fades into anger and I swallow the thickening lump in my throat.
“What’s going on?” I ask, growing restless. “Did I say something wrong?”
He removes his hands from me, nostrils flaring, and rolls up his sleeves. His reaction almost frightens me when he takes a step back looking like he’s holding back from yelling at me. Before I can say anything else, he sends a flower vase flying against the wall, ceramic shards scattering all around me.
I startle and raise my arms around my head, ducking from the debris. “Have I done something wrong?” I ask, noticing a small shake in my voice. “I’m sorry I-”
Jason strides toward the window and slams his fist against the glass. “I can forgive your depravity, but not when the evidence of it marks your skin. It disgusts me to touch you when you’ve been defiled by another.”
Something in me breaks and splatters all over the floor. I want to lurch and hide from this mess I’ve caused. I should have known the hickeys would anger him. Of course he wouldn’t be able to see past my promiscuity.
My body bears the proof that I’m cheaper than dirt.
I reach for him, but he shoves me out of the way, slamming me against the closet.
“Jason, wait! I’m sorry I was wrong. It was wrong of me. I… forgot about the hickeys.”
“Forgot?” he echoes, slowly turning to get a good look at the fool provoking him. “Do you think that makes it better? I can’t do shit with your apology.”
I grab his hand, hesitantly parting my lips to utter an apology but no sound leaves my mouth. I don’t want to lose him, too. I won’t be able to take it if I’m left utterly alone in this world.
Please, don’t leave me. Not you too.
Jason is the lighthouse that guides me home when I feel like I’m sinking in the sea.
Without him, I’m lost.
He’s the one dragging you below the surface.
I know but…still.
“Don’t touch me. You disgust me.” He yanks his arm away and stalks out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
The walls rattle and a violent shake envelops me.
Disgusting.
I’m disgusting.
A useless piece of garbage who’s only good enough for sexual gratification.
A used up hole.
Disgusting.
Whore.
I’mpathetic. I couldn’t even keephimin my life. The only person that has always chosen me just walked out on me.
He hates me now. Finds me repulsive.
I sag over the cold floor, gawking at my spread out palms and picturing razor blades stabbing my flesh until there is nothing left.
I deserve this. It’s my fault.All my fault.
It takes me a few seconds too long before the red ink clogging my lungs recedes and air surges in. It tears my flesh in the most oddly consoling way, and I catch myself wishing this pain would devour me, leaving only ashes behind.
