Mad Dog

Chapter 7 - Some Things You Can't Handle

The floors squeak under the relentless tread of my pacing feet. As I nervously glare at the door he'd retreated into. This can't be the only room open. Looking down I notice the nail on my right hand looks uneven. I bite it wanting to even it out but nerves making me go to far till I've practically taken the whole nail off. I glance around for chairs or sofas, anything but the room was bare only a small chair in the corner that didn't look comfortable for child let alone a grown adult. I just need to make the bed look small. So small he'd never think to look past the stars to the beauty beyond them. If anyone deserved the bed it was me. I think to my self. Bending down I grab my travel suitcase a servant had placed on the floor by the closet. I undo the buckles and start throwing my clothes all over his side of the bed. It didn't take me long to finish. I didn't have many to begin with. Still I had just enough to do the deed. Even leaving my suitcase to really seal precariously thrown in it to really seal it. It looked occupied. If he didn't like the floor he could get his own room that we know he can afford. I didn't admire my handiwork for long as I hear footsteps outside my door, ones I'd never be able to forget.

Quickly I threw on a nightgown and jumped into bed not wanting to give him any chances of thinking he was welcome. Never would he be welcome in my bed again. I hear the knob rattle and turn and roll further on my side pulling the blankets over my head so I looked as if sleeping. Bile burned in my throat as I hear him walk in. I could barely breath. It was like my body had forgotten it was barely 5 feet from him a few hours ago and now wanted to punish itself. I held it in closing my eyes tightly willing him to leave. Struggling to to even my shallow breathing. I lay like that for what felt like ages listening intently to his rustling about the room.

I hated it. Hated it. Why am I hiding?? I chide at myself. Acting like a scared little girl under these covers for who?? Him?? I should be laying claim and killing him for his audacity and yet here I am still being the worthless daughter I've always been. Furious with myself I rip the covers off finally determined to give him a piece of my mind. However as I peer around the room for him he seemed to have vanished.

I sit up bewildered. He couldn't have left the room. I'd have hear the door shut behind him. The hairs on my arms were standing on end as I desperately swept my gaze around the room. You never want to lose track of an enemy. The room only had one closet. Everywhere else bare except the chest of drawers and night table. Each where I could easily see them. Which meant there was only one place he could be. My hackles raised I lean over to the end of the bed but he wasn't there. I sigh but it was only a small relief because when I peered over the other side, the side my bags were on, I find myself staring right into his eyes. You could see the green in them with this lighting. They gleamed at me with an unreadable expression as he lay there. I thought I'd be ok with him in the same room but seeing him lying there made me sick. From his silky dark hair to his tired unreadable eyes it all needed to go. The thought that I would be tripping over this depraved man at night was enough to make me want to downward spiral. Did he not have his own house to get back to??

I couldn't breath. Whether it was the alcohol or just his presence alone it was enough that I couldn't handle it. I clutch my fist to my chest almost doubling over as I try to get air but it felt as if the walls were closing in. My heart raced in my chest as thoughts tangled themselves in my mind. He can't be here. He can't be here. He can't be here. He can't be here. Bile rose in my throat and I clasp my hand to my mouth holding it in while my other hand gropes my waist for the dagger that until recently hung about my waist. No no no no no. Not now. Not when I needed it. When I finally had the chance. I grip my head in my hands rocking as I thought of a way, any way, to be rid of him. Almost clawing at myself. Then I feel the rough touch of his hands pulling mine off me causing me to jerk back almost off the bed. He looked at me long and hard as I struggled to gain my breath through the burning in my throat. I wanted to scream at him but I couldn't get enough air. We sat that way me fighting to survive him a stone on his knees before me. His eyes staring deep into my eyes as he kept me safe from myself and him. I don't know what he saw in it, maybe madness, but he got up and without a word walked out. I didn't move for a long time unable to will my body from the fetal position it had landed in, but he never came back. I was only able to move when my stomach, finally getting to do what it had wanted to do all day, spilled out of me onto the floor. I run to the bathroom trying to make it to the toilet before anymore made it onto the floor and hurl all the painful memories into the bowl. The acid taste of bile swirled in my mouth the only thing reminding me that this was real. This hell I was cursed to live again. To live is to suffer. I think as I lay my head against the bowl tired from the endless rollercoaster of the day. As my eyes shut I wonder if hell would've been better than this.