Psychosis

Desolation Row {2/2}

Days after the incident, I was jarred awake by the pain of my injury. The sun was barely peeking through the wall of windows in my room. Just enough for me to know that it was about 5:00 AM. I hadn't touched the bottle of naproxen sitting on my nightstand, I knew it wouldn't be enough to help. The pain went far beyond inflammation.

My shade cackled, ‘That sounds like pride to me. Pitiful.’

I sat up and felt the bed for Ethan, but of course, he wasn't next to me. I grabbed my crutches and got to my feet, every confounded inch of my body screamed at me in agony. I was out of breath by the time I reached my bedroom door, where I rested against the frame and fell limp on the crutches. Hot tears started to pour from my eyes and streak down my cheeks, I still don’t know to this day if it was from pain or humiliation. My shoulders were on fire and my arms were too weak to hold me up. Every muscle burned with each contraction, just trying to breathe took everything I had.

Looking down at my oversized long-sleeve shirt Sue had given me, I thought of how f*****g pathetic I felt. How weak I was. How ridiculous it was that I was crippled. I moved my crutches one at a time a couple inches, and minutes later I was in the bathroom, sweating and exasperated. I peed while wondering how I would even get back to my room, thanking my lucky stars for my mom coming to get the kids. After I flushed, I began slowly shuffling again back to my cave.

The front door clicked open and I turned around to find Ethan standing there with a bag of food from a local coffee shop and an iced coffee with the shop's decal on the side.

"Why were you out so early?" I immediately became suspicious. Any time he would act out of the ordinary, dope was usually involved. He walked closer, it was about 5:40 AM or so by that time.

"I thought you'd be hungry, and..." He trailed off.

"Help me back to bed, then we can talk about it."

He walked into the bedroom and set everything on my side table. I pressed myself against the frame and pushed my crutches out from under my arms and onto the floor. He slipped under my right arm and leaned in so I could put my weight on him. When I got back to bed, I fell face-first into my pillows. They were all black and white and plush. I was so tired.

I breathed into the pillows and, without lifting my head, asked him where he'd been. ‘I gave him the ok to use my car occasionally, but not to go do dope.’ I thought to myself.

I told you he would be a repeat of the last one. Disappointing you. Betraying you when needed th-

No one asked you, peanut gallery.

"I went to get breakfast for you." He sat on the edge of the bed and turned towards me. I looked up at him. His pupils were the size of dinner plates with thin cyan lines surrounding them. He wouldn't keep eye contact with me. I knew. And he knew I knew.

"Give me my keys and leave me alone." I turned over and reached for my coffee.

He leaned on me and kissed my head. "I'm sorry, Kara, I don't want to be like this. I'll be in the living room if you need me." I knew that that was undeniably a guilt trip.

"Feel free to clean something while you've got all that f*****g energy." I snapped at him. Ethan was many things, including a manipulator. Some days, especially the days he got high, it felt like he was more a child than a partner.

After I ate and drank my coffee, I laid back down and slept on and off for two more days.

When I finally decided to take another bath four days after the incident, I noticed the skin and muscle on the side of my foot were turning gray and numb, some spots were pins and needles.

Well s**t.

Back to the ER. I called my mom and asked her to wait before bringing the kids home because I was back in the hospital. South Baldwin again. This time though, a different doctor came in.

"I'm Doctor This-And-That. We did more x-rays and I want to ask you if you've been staying off your foot." He was undoubtedly from Louisiana, given his thick accent. His words formed from the sides of his mouth rather than the full length of his tongue.

"I was told I could put some pressure on it, but for the most part I stay in bed." I shifted in the chair.

"Okay, what happened the last time you came in?" He set his clipboard down and leaned his tall frame against the counter behind him, crossing his arms. Translucent blonde curls sprang off of his head, if I had to guess his age I’d ballpark that he was in his late fifties.

I gave him the run down and when I got to the part about the other doctor telling me my tendon detached, he stopped me, "They wouldn't know that without an MRI, but I'm about to go look at it with my own eyes."

About forty-five minutes later he came back. "Alright, what you have is an avulsion fracture. This is not treated as a regular sprain. What has happened is the tendon has ripped a piece of your bone away from itself. I don't know if you need surgery, you gotta see an ortho for that. What I can tell you is to stay off of it. I don't know who told you to treat it like a sprain but they're a fuckin’ i***t. Treat it like a break, stay off it. This nurse will get your discharge papers. Also, I’m gonna write you a script for something a little stronger than the naproxen they put you on."

After getting home, I called the same ortho who had treated me for my broken hand a few years before. They said they could fit me in their schedule the next day, two hours away in another city, if not I'd have to wait two weeks for a closer appointment.

I took it.

Ethan drove me to the flower shop. Sue had been taking care of things during the day while I'd been away. She mostly worked nights and weekends at her regular job. I got out of my car and hobbled in.

She glared at me, a long-sleeve gray and white striped shirt hugging her curves, black leggings, and the cutest green apron I'd ever seen on her waist. "Why don't you drive the Stallion?" She was referring to the other vehicle in my garage.

"Because I like my car." I quipped. That other car was a gloss black and gray carbon fiber 2015 American-made two-door sports car, and it hadn't been driven in almost a year. The last time I drove it was to my baby shower for Sophie. It was unbelievably comfortable and roomy. I was in love with it. Even the taillights and headlights were blacked out. However, too many memories lurk inside of it.

"Kara, I know but you need to be comfortable." She perked her fists on her hips. I thought she was too sweet, her intentions were in the right place, and she was bad at trying to be bossy. She pulled the strings of my heart like a harp, just by existing.

"Sweetheart I'm okay, besides, I'd rather no one else drive it honestly. It's just a keepsake."

"What kind of car is it?" Ethan chimed in, being obnoxiously nosey. "Also, why can't I drive it?"

I didn’t like to touch on some things much, but that's mostly because some experiences are ones that I didn't want to remember the details of. “It’s just a car built for drag racing.”

Sue piped up from the office, where she was organizing. “It’s more than that, it’s a special edition Stallion that was bought out of spite when I got married. All to one-up my husband.”

Ethan raised his eyebrow, "That's a petty thing to do."

I chuckled, "It may have been petty but it paid for itself remarkably fast. Not to mention her husband, Ryan, was livid when I showed up to the wedding in it.”

“Where did you get that kind of money?” Ethan hoisted himself onto the counter.

I shifted on my crutches. “Doesn’t really matter, everything I own is paid for.”

"Did you race it?" Ethan was listening intently from his perch.

"I had a professional driver who took it to shows and raced it.”

"So it's an actual race car?" I could hear a spark of excitement in his voice.

I squinted at him slightly, “Yes.”

"What kind of bike is it? I haven't actually seen either vehicle."

"It's a 2017 superbike that’s worth about $15,000, it’s brand new. It’s also black and carbon fiber." I sighed heavily. "One day I'll drive the car more often, but for now it can stay put. Are you ready to go? I just wanted to check on the shop." I was ready to get away from the conversation, I could feel the shade’s temptation to be cruel.

"Yeah sure, whenever you are." He said.

"Sue, come hug me bye." I called back to her.

She came around the corner from the office, passed the counter, and proceeded to give me the lightest hug on earth. "Be careful, go home, rest, I've got the shop, I love you." She went to turn away and I grabbed her hand.

"Marry me, I don't want to wait for your husband to die. You're so perfect just leave him." I couldn’t resist being playful.

She chuckled at me. "We have two kids, I can't leave him. I do love him, you know."

"Shh, it's just that you're under his spell."

"You're being ridiculous. Go." She giggled at me again and I started to crutch my way back to my car.

I yelled back to her before the shop door shut completely, "You wouldn't have me any other way!"

A couple hours after leaving the shop, Ethan and I were sitting in the living room. I'd convinced my mom to keep the kids for two more days. I watched him intently while he fiddled with his phone. I was envious, I wanted his attention. I wanted to feel his hands tracing every curve of my body and his warm lips caressing the hollow dips in my throat. Then, I finally spoke.

"So, what do you feel like doing?"

He paused. His right thumb hovered over the screen of his phone. "What's wrong with just doing this?" He wouldn’t bring his eyes to meet mine.

"I mean, I was thinking maybe we could mess around a bit?"

He sighed. "Look, I just don't think it's a good idea right now. To be honest I'm kinda tired. I've been coming down and I was really thinking about going to bed early."

My jaw dropped. "It's only four o’clock. We haven't had s*x in a week. I thought dope increased your s*x drive."

"When you first start doing it, sure, but I haven't done it in a couple days and I'm exhausted."

"You know, when we first started seeing each other, we had s*x every chance we got, and now I'm lucky if I get ten minutes out of you once a week." I stood up. "How about you sleep out here and I go find something to do in my room, like masturbate. I love that you sacrifice any sort of viable intimacy between us for a drug that you said you were trying to quit."

"Kara, you're being dramatic." His brow furrowed and he went back to tapping the screen of his phone.

I had my hand on my crutches and at that last comment, I shoved them aside and snapped at him, "Oh I'm being dramatic? No, I'm s*x-starved, but if you want to see dramatic I'll show it to you." I walked to the kitchen, well more so limped, and pulled a tall glass from the cabinet next to the sink, as well as a bottle of lime soda from the fridge. I continued limping out of the house through the side door, slammed the door, walked across the short gravel path, and made my way into the garage. I reached to my left and flipped the switch. Everything lit up.

White fluorescent lights buzzed above me. I looked everything over, my parking spot closest to the door was empty. But on the far side, the Stallion sat there, hibernating, resembling a beast stalking prey, awaiting the next opportunity it would have to rise from its cell and cull everything in its path. The bike was in front of it, like a pouncing tiger, frozen in time, anticipating the next day it would be free to roam. Mind you my garage is by no means small, it can hold up to four vehicles comfortably and has a loft that was used as a guest room.

The loft came equipped with a mother-in-law suite and a common area with a large wrap-around couch, a deep freezer, and a gaming setup in the entertainment center. It also has a couple side tables, a coffee table, and some lamps.

A massive toolbox was centered beneath the loft, and the staircase was to my right on the far side of the washer and dryer. It was somewhat hidden, parallel against the wall. I broke a sweat climbing it. Once I was at the top, I placed my cup and soda on the coffee table, next to the bottles of liquor that decorated the black glass, and sat on the end of the couch closest to the deep freezer.

‘Dramatic. I'll show him dramatic.’ I thought to myself with a scoff.

I filled my glass with ice and then poured in an even amount of vodka, blue curacao, rum, tequila, triple sec, and gin; then I filled it up with soda and stirred. It came out to a glowing teal color and tasted like s**t.

I downed it. Then poured another. Downed it. Then poured another and laid back on the couch. I stared at the condensation dripping off the tall glass onto the coffee table. I thought to myself, ‘Why am I always so petty? Why is everything he does always such an issue for me?’ I felt sick. Sad. But deeper than that. Deeper than sad.

Oh yeah, I have depression.

My heart hurt. I felt like my intelligent self was tied to a chair in my brain, watching my body handle the intoxication by itself. I could hear myself muttering a tune. Wondering if I could manage to get the lyrics right. Of course, though, I didn’t remember all the words and especially not in the order in which they’re meant to be performed.

"... I must be contagious, it'd be safer if... f**k that's what they all... up in the end... take my leg break it in half say something something soon it's way too... something something in this room... f**k my life." That’s all I could mutter before passing out.

When I eventually came to, the overhead lights were off and the lights in the entertainment center opposite the couch were on. They were soft yellow lights, illuminating all the certificates and medals on the half dozen shelves situated in the twin rosewood cases. I looked at the other side of the couch, Ethan was kicked back asleep with an empty glass next to him. Leaning against the wall near the stairs were my crutches and on the coffee table, sitting between my watered-down mixed drink and the assortment of liquor bottles, was my bottle of tramadol.

Sitting up, I was still pretty lit. I had no idea how long I'd been asleep or when he had come into the garage or anything. All I did know was I definitely couldn't walk. My foot was searing with pain, I wasn’t supposed to mix alcohol and opiates, but I couldn’t deal with it. I broke one of the little tabs in half and swallowed it with a sip of the lime soda. I laid back down, reaching behind me for an abandoned gray throw blanket and curling up with my head against the arm of the couch. The only thing I thought to do was sleep it off.

The next morning, sunlight poured in from the windows that were nestled in the ceiling above the loft. Ethan wasn't inside. Off doing dope again no doubt. I’m not sure how to convince him to get off the s**t, but I wish there was something I could do without being controlling or bitchy.

I'm not good in the way of telling people not to do things that are bad for them, simply because I believe people can make whatever choices they want. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. I finally got myself off the couch and obtained my crutches so that I could get down the stairs. Eventually, I got back into the house, showered, put my phone on charge, and was half-dressed, rewrapping my boot when Ethan came strolling through the door.

"Good morning sunshine, are you about ready to go? I brought tacos for your killer hangover." He was unbelievably chipper. I glared at him. I knew he knew I knew. But he didn't seem to care. I asked myself if he was serious about getting sober.

"I was hoping we could f**k before we leave, you know, give me a better reason to be limping." Nothing about my statement was genuine, more or less I was taking a stab at him. Wondering if I possibly might be a nympho.

He smirked, "Oh don't worry after tonight your back will be broken too."

Is that so. I didn’t trust him as far as I could throw him.

There honestly isn’t a lot I want to say about the trip to my appointment. He drove us from Foley to Brewton, we took back roads, ate tacos, and sang karaoke in the car, it was a nice day. I might even say that was the day I started really developing feelings for him. Although, I'd never have an opportunity to tell him.

I think the most noteworthy event was when we got home and spent legitimate quality time together. We watched a movie, both cried at how sad it was, then we snacked, told each other stories, and overall did things a lot like when we first began seeing each other seriously. Once it started getting late, he played music on his phone while we cuddled in my bedroom.

After showing each other songs from an array of artists, we agreed on a more relaxed playlist, a full album from a mutual band that we both enjoyed. It had incredible instrumentals and the lead singer was distinguished among vocalists. I gazed up to find him already looking at me intently. A lovely song filled the air, he moved his face closer, nuzzling me gently, my shade keeping a fair distance.

I’m not sure how long I stayed there with my lips parted, looking for words that would tell him how much I cared about him, how much I enjoyed his company. Ethan rested his forehead against mine, a warm hand mindlessly tracing the curve of my hip and thigh. I closed my eyes and grinned so slightly, choosing my words carefully.

“Kiss me.” I breathed.

So he did. Our tongues danced and our breaths meshed. His hands found their way beneath my shirt and embraced my flesh, my n*****s hardened just from being touched. A moment later he took both of them between his fingertips and kissed me hungrily from my lips to my collarbone. My body reacted on its own, drawing him closer and begging to be ravaged.

Moonlight came through the windows above, illuminating our silhouettes. Pleasant shivers waltzed through my spine, I melted at the sight of him consuming me, moving slowly from my neck, pulling up my shirt, tasting every inch of my breasts and belly. The deep rooted biological need to mate grew insatiable.

My inner thighs were slick, I could feel his shaft against me. Low moans born of desperation escaped my lungs. Flawless teeth pulled at the top seam of my panties and from the darkness below, chilling chromatic irises found mine. He remained focused, silent, and vehemently hoping I would allow him the taboo of savoring me. I closed my eyes and let my head fall back. Taking a second or so to decide if I’d give in to his requisition, chuckling at the irony. The tips of my fingers recorded the fine details of his arms and shoulders, etching them into the walls of my mind. He was irresistible and I felt like a ferret in heat.

I rocked my hips against him in a manner that was less like a sultry invitation and more like a ravenous plea. My evident lust seemed to entice him. He eagerly tore the black cloth from my hips and tossed them aimlessly. As the next song began, so did his devious teasing.

His warm hands molded to my plump waist and he inhaled my scent, feeding into his own profound hunger and releasing a sensual moan on the tail of his breath. My self-indulgent fingers became lost in his silky hair and he shuddered beneath my touch, his grip tightened and from his chest came an exasperated growl. I grinned with amusement as he struggled to stifle his natural impulses. Wet kisses were strategically placed in a curved line down my hips, then, slowing at my thighs, he returned the smirk of amusement and nipped at my skin.

Ethan sank between my legs, leveling his face with his dessert. He allowed a hand to rest on my hip while his other fingers traced the birthmark on my inner thigh. In tandem, he left a wet kiss on it and moved only one finger to the top of my lips. My breath caught on the euphoria that flooded my senses. He took his sweet time exploring and every so often he would kiss various spots, watching me squirm was undoubtedly exciting for him.

After a few moments, he rubbed the tip of his nose along my skin, still tormenting me with his fingers. I could hear him growl again, although this time, it was much more aggressive. At the start of the next song seconds later, he surrendered to his instincts. Strong hands appeared tight on my hips from beneath my legs and he held me to the bed while his mouth devoured my vulva. He flicked my sweet spot with his tongue and took it between his teeth, nibbling just enough to send me into a frenzy.

I didn’t know other men could be so great in bed, why didn’t I f**k anyone sooner?

I was in a world of ecstasy as Ethan worked magic, pressing all the right buttons. It was nothing to make me c*m. I writhed under my lover's torment, by the third or fourth orgasm, I was desperately trying to get away. My nervous system felt like it had been electrocuted. He leaned back again, his delicious ruby lips bent up into a proud smile, glistening with my fluids, his jaw and throat were dripping as well. Chuckling at my weakened state, he gently drew his nails along my thighs to my calves and back again.

“You can’t tap out yet, I’ve only just started.” He said slyly. In a swift motion, he grabbed my good ankle and flipped me over quite suddenly, from there his hands took hold of my wrists and pinned them at my hips.

Overflowing with arrogance, he spared no warning. A sharp pain surged through my pelvis as he thrust himself inside, the head of his c**k pressing immensely on the wall of my cervix. Such a fierce assault on my body drew an involuntary yelp from my core, leaving me trembling under my lover's weight.