The Nightmare of my Dreams

Chapter Three

I could feel his stare lingering on my lips.

" Yes ? " he whispered. His voice was actually soft, it was like he was singing me a love poem. Why in the hell will someone like him want to have s*x with me?

"This is crazy, your crazy," I said and ran home without looking back.

I wrote a thousand words on What all American CEOs wanted before retiring to bed. Mr. Thene had given me a chance to change my topic since the last topic was eating me out, I muttered a lazy thank you over the phone. I thought about the rich model and I couldn't help but conclude that he had quite an effect on me. I wondered who he was and what he really wanted from me. A pervert?, An assassin? , A psychopath that killed women after having s*x? Even with all the scary assumptions, I still dreamt of his eyes when I crashed.

***********

I called Gabriel the next morning.

"Am sorry and am lonely"

"You unbelievable" he almost screamed and hung up. I tried calling back but he had blocked my line.

Arrrrghhhhhh

And so what was the big deal if I couldn't say that I loved him? Life was already complicated enough so why do human beings have to be hard in a hysterical way? You make me happy and I make you happy, why complicate things?

Selfish Venus

I was selfish in a way even I couldn't understand, it wasn't like I went out of my way and bypassed people's feelings to get things for myself, it was more like narcissism. I thought of Lucy and Geneva and their happy lives and thought about how I would never deserve their happy love lives because I would always find a way to push away people that actually cared about me because of a lack of empathy and consideration. I sometimes told Lucian that it was mostly because of how I grew up, watching my mum live her life with cancer, watching her eat and drink from tubes, and watching the situation break my dad into tiny and tinier pieces until it finally broke his life down. I remember asking Dad why he didn't leave and he always told me that marriage was for better or worse. Not this worse. I could never be like him. I could never allow myself to break down for something or someone I wasn't born with. I had laughed at the thought of meeting someone, falling in love and all because of this love, you have to deal with whatever the person is going to deal with, it was pathetic and crazy.

Until I met Richie

Richie made me despise myself all those years when Mum was sick and I watched Dad slave and torture himself while carrying her burden on his head. Richie made me understand that love was undeniable and never understandable. With Richie, I hated that I couldn't understand my father when he slaved for Mum and took care of her for the whole five years. All those years, I hadn't felt any drop of sadness or hurt, instead, I felt disgusted at my dad. When Mum later died, I felt angry that she had to make Dad go through what he went through. Richie made me understand that some feelings were beyond your control and as I came closer and closer to realizing that, it broke me and broke me again and I had wished and would still wish for the rest of my life that I could rewind to when I was twelve and support my parents with love and understanding and any other thing they may need when going through that journey.

Richie went with me to therapy for eight months. I loved her. She was less judgemental and slowly allowed me to make room for her in my life.

Until that night

I had received the call because obviously, I was the most recent contact on Richie's contact dial. I answered the phone with giddiness because I was literally in a good mood.

"Rich, I.....

"Hello, are you Venus?? , Uhm, Someone you know just fell off a bridge intentionally, I think you should......

I couldn't wait for the voice to finish, my head twirled as my ears caught the 'fell' and 'bridge'. I could feel my eyes tearing up but I tried holding back. It could be a prank or fake news. It couldn't just be. I walked and then I ran. It took everything from me to avoid breaking down as I ran to the bridge.

There wasn't much crowd at the spot. Suicide wasn't really a shocking thing in New York. I had forced my way to view and then I saw Richie.

Richie was dead

I couldn't explain the feeling I felt looking at her. It was like I was there but wasn't there. It couldn't be possible that this was Richie, even though I knew pretty well that this was Richie. She was a pile of blood and her black hair still gleamed. Her neck was twisted the wrong way, meaning she had broken it when she fell. And then her head........

A lady held my arms and muttered an apology. She offered to take me home and she tried asking me questions about my relationship with Richie. A question sang in my head, my ears, and my heart.

Why?

Dad called me the following days to check up on me and Lucian almost started living with me. It was hard, really hard and Dad wasn't helping at all when he used Mum to try to make me feel better without knowing that it even made me feel worse. At some point, I felt like I was losing my mind and I sent him out of my apartment.

He called me the next day to tell me he understood everything and I wanted to slap him. He understood nothing of me and Richie's relationship. Dad never visited again after that. Lucian was really helpful. She quietly stayed by me even though I desperately wanted her to leave me alone. I was so heartbroken, not just for Richie but for myself. I should've known what she was going through. I should have.....

The Christmas after Richie died, I wrote about her and when I was done with each chapter, I cried myself to sleep every night, drunk on hot cocoa. I would normally take Moscato but it was the drink me and Richie had shared before taking our last walk together. Moscato also reminded me of the shock I felt when I watched the reddish ooze of blood emitting from Richie's head split into two.