partial

catefrances

she woke up. she could barely open her eyes. she scratched at her skin and shivered with the cold. the body beside her made noise but didn't stir. she stared at his face and wondered who he was. she had been with him for a couple of months but still she had no clue about him. they spent their days together drinking and not much else. she thought she got everything she needed from him. but what she got was bruises and abrasions that covered her body. she sat up but her head swam. she groaned and tried to stand up. she stumbled and cracked her elbow on the bedside. she started to cry. but not just for her aching arm. she didn't know what she was doing. she remembers walking out of the hotel and away from her old life, but she doesn't remember when that was. she heard the body stir, but he did not wake. she walked to the bathroom and turned the shower on as hot as she could stand it. standing underneath the flow, she cried again. she sat in the bottom of the stall, wrapping her arms around her knees and cried. when he found her he yelled at her. she said nothing. she was too tired to respond. she looked around her. he knew what she was looking for. he grabbed it off the window sill and showed it to her, asking her if this was what she wanted. she asked for it but he refused. she begged him. he laughed. when she reached out for it, he swiped it across her hand. she pulled her hand back and sucked the gash. this made him angry. he had given her what she wanted. he pulled her hand towards him, holding her tightly. surprisingly she didn't struggle. though they'd played this game before he was certain she'd pull away from him. he sat down and held her arm straight. with every cut he asked her if this was what she wanted. he took her silence for aquiescence. while he cut her she said nothing. she rocked gently back and forth while her blood flowed. when she felt his lips on her skin a shiver ran through her. this was so wrong but she couldn't stop what was happening. or more to the point, she didn't want to. with the water beating down on her, she stared at her arms. she watched as the blood flowed, mixing with the water and disappearing down the plughole. she didn't notice when he cut his own skin. his blood mixed with hers but she didnt see. when he thrust the blade into her hand and told her to cut him, she couldn't look at him. he yelled at her to do it. holding her face in his hand he stared into her eyes and yelled at her to do it. she owed him he said. he did it for her now it was her turn. she shook her head. she couldn't do it. she felt his grip get tighter. she heard his voice break. he begged her to do it. she could feel the blade cutting her own skin as she held it with her fingers. he took her hand in his and drew the blade down his arm. he told her to look at what she had done. she said she didn't want to be there. he said he needed her. he told her that she needed him too. she didn't think that was true but she was in no state to argue the point. he again helped her cut him. after that she didnt need his help.

catefrances

he stood on the jetty and stared out at the lake. he had seen her do it so often that right now he felt somehow that he was her. the coffee in his mug warmed his hands and he wondered where she was. he hoped that wherever she was she was okay. he wanted her to come back. she had fallen so often and managed to return that the possibility that this would be the one time got pushed out of his head as quick as it entered. he knew that if he started to think she'd not come back to him, then he'd already lost. in his quietest moments he thought of her. when he was in the middle of a class he thought of her. sometimes at night when he was in bed, he'd reach out to her. but of course she wasn't there. as he stood staring out into what had become nothingness with her absence, he willed her to come back.

catefrances

he woke and she was standing beside the bed. he said her name, but she made no move towards him. he thought he was hallucinating. she looked so bad he felt like crying. the dress she wore hung off her body like a flag at half mast. the sleeves of the top she wore under the dress stopped just above her wrists and he could see the damage she'd done. her skin was yellow. her eyes sunken and ringed with black. not from someone hitting her, but from self abuse. he’d seen it before. in her, but also in himself. she stood there staring at him. actually he was sure she was begging him silently. he would never turn her away, she had to know that. maybe she’d forgotten. he reached out and took her hand in his. her skin was cold and she shivered when he touched her. wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her to him. When she started to cry, he did too. he took her into the bed and held her close. she said nothing, but soon fell asleep. a couple of times she woke with a violent start and he lulled her back to sleep. he rocked her gently and stroked her skin. when the dawn came and the first rays of the sun broke through the window, he awoke to find her looking at him. she did not return his weak smile.
as the days passed they did not talk about where she had been, what she done or who she was with. to him it didn’t matter. to her it was a memory best left alone. though he knew it would never leave her.

catefrances

to broach the subject of rehab with her would been seen as the biggest betrayal. he wanted her to get help. but he knew if he asked her to look for it outside the cabin she would refuse. in all likelihood she would also disappear again. he thought the best thing he could do for her was to maintain his schedule. he went to school a he had every day of her disappearance. often he'd come home and she'd be curled up on the bed crying or asleep with eyes red and face puffy from crying. once he came home and heard the shower going. he found her sitting under the fall of the water shivering because the hot water had run out. when he went to help her out he saw she had cut herself so deeply he had no choice but to take her to the hospital. he was so beyond the ability to be shocked by anything she did, but the fact that she went with him so willingly gave him pause. not long after the hospital visit he awoke to find her clinging to him so tightly, he hardly had room to breathe. he spoke to her gently and managed to get her to roll over with her back to him so he could hold her. he wanted to show her that he would not run away. that she could turn her back on him and he would be there when she looked back. it was months before they made love and it was she who initiated it. he was thrilled that her trust in him had returned enough for her to allow this act. in the morning when he awoke, she was still clinging to him. not long after that she started to write again. what she allowed him to read was horrifying. he had no doubt what she wrote was an account as best she could remember of the time she was away from him. she was ashamed of what she had done. he could tell by the tone with which she wrote. and because she told him so. what he read made him angry. some parts made him so sad he cried. he couldn't believe what she had put herself through. and for what? because she felt she had to? this woman made so little sense to him at times he wondered what it was that actually held her together.