I Became Her

Chapter 16 -The Dragon-

He just stared at me like I asked him to shoot me.

“No,” his answer is short and disappointing.

“Why not?” I am not asking too much here, at least I think I am not.

He places his hand on my shoulder and I stiffen immediately before stepping away from his touch. But it wasn’t the contact that feels strange or disturbing, it’s me, I feel strange and disturbing. I feel not deserving.

“That’s why,” he says and looks at me with a serious face. “There is constant contact between fighters, skin on skin and you are not ready for that yet.”

I know he is right, and his little test just now proved it. However, I know I can do this. “Maybe this helps me get over it? Maybe this is what I need to heal?” I don’t want to peg but it’s not like I could walk into another gym and workout there. As he noticed before, I don’t even own workout clothes, not to mention money for subscription or any other fees. I suppose I am stuck with him.

“I’ll think about it, just don’t hold your breath.” He turns on his heels and walks back to the reception desk. “Let’s see if we have something in the lost and found that might fit you,” he waves me to follow him there.

We walk past the receptionist and into the small room behind her. He takes a cardboard box from the corner and places it on the table between us. Within seconds, he pulls out a pair of shorts, a tank top and what seems to be a men’s t-shirt. “That’s all we got,” he says with a little amusement in his voice.

I look at the things in front of me and I claim them mine as soon as he finishes pulling them out. “They’re fine. Thank you.” I grab the clothes and excuse myself. I know he meant well, but the actuality is that the items I can call mine are someone’s dirty old clothes from a lost and found box. I know I could do worse. I know people are dealing with much worse. However, this makes me feel as small as the head of a pin.

I don’t storm out, but the pace is not something that would make catching me easy.

“Hey,” he yells after me. “Wait up.” And I stop without looking back. “Is there anything else you need?” He asks when he reaches me.

“A job,” I say turning to face him. I am not going to ask him to train me again because he needs to marinate on that thought before I try again, but a job would be great.

“You need to lie low,” he insists again, and I start to hate those words.

“I need to eat as well.” I roll my eyes at him. “I am not saying I want to sing a duet with Lady Gaga. I can do whatever, I can clean or serve drinks or work at the supermarket. I don’t really care what.” The last part comes out a little too dramatic, but I wanted to make myself heard. I need money. I can’t eat expired cereal for the rest of my life.

“I’ll speak with Shai; she might be able to help.” He winked at me and walked away. This time I was left standing alone looking after him. I hate being this dependent on others for every little thing.

I take my new clothes and return to the only place that can be called home. How full of lies this sentence was. The clothes are old and not mine. The home is definitely not mine. But it is what it is.

I throw everything he gave me, plus what I am wearing right now, and shove it in the washing machine. Beggars can’t be choosers, but we can be hygienic at least. Luckily, in this heat I don’t need much clothing wise. Unfortunately, that is not the case with food, and I didn’t see him fishing any of that out from lost and found.

While the laundry is finishing up, I read a book I found abandoned on the shelf. I really feel like a Rapunzel. Alone in the lonely tower, no one to talk to and no where to go. Trapped, that’s how I feel. Yet, unlike Rapunzel, I don’t have anyone coming to my rescue.

At one point, I hear Kane on the balcony, so I avoid going there. There is nothing more to say at the moment and I have no desire to pretend to be ready for social life.

I go to bed hungry, but that doesn’t bother me. At least I get to go there safely, and I will worry about work and money tomorrow, as they say- ‘morning is always wiser than evening’. Let’s see if that is true.

Another morning rises as another night passes without waking up covered in sweat and tears. If that continues, I might start to feel like a perfectly normal woman again.

I ready myself as much as possible and walk up to the door leading to the balcony to go and steal coffee from my neighbor again. When I step out, I stumble and almost fall face first on the floor. The joy of not having nightmares dies then and there. I pick myself up and find the bag that tripped me placed nicely behind my door. Without opening it, I can tell it is hiding groceries, it’s food. Is he trying to make me feel even smaller?

I am not going to complain to him 'cause I have nothing else to eat, but I will complain to myself. I am like a charity case to him, and I am not used to that. I kept myself alive and well, I did the same for my father, I never needed anyone to buy bread for me. I am not even going to say I will pay him back because that is given.

Days pass with the same routine and it is hard to tell them apart. Every morning I sneak into his kitchen and allow myself one cup of coffee. Back in my apartment, I turn on the TV and news play as a background noise while I clean the whole place from top to bottom every freaking day. I don’t go out; I don’t even spend time on the balcony anymore. I just stay here, where it is safe, and I can be alone.

A few times I was prepping myself to go to the gym and break the pattern, but I never made it down there. There is this odd fear hiding inside of me that developed over the past week and I don’t know how to make it leave. I can’t even pinpoint what it is that I am afraid of, there is just this fright that claws my heart and mind when I want to leave this place. Like there is some kind of dragon spitting fire and abusive men staring back at me when I open the door.

My stupid brain is being fed all kinds of crap by my unstable heart.

The doorbell makes me jump and I push my thoughts about dragons back into hiding where they belong.

“Who’s there?” No one knows I am here except two people, but I ask anyway.

“It’s Shai.” Her answer is short and emotionless.

I open the door and she is staring at me with a forced smile that says she doesn’t really want to deal with me.

“It’s been a week,” she starts, and I have no idea where this conversation is heading. “You can’t just squat in here until life passes by. You wanted to stay and do something, so get off your ass and do something.”

Her words are not too harsh, but she isn’t too sugary either. She is telling me everything I already know. But how am I supposed to go and do, when I have to hide like I am the criminal here?

After I stay silent, she comes closer and places her arms on my shoulders. As soon as her hands land, I breathe out to hide my body trying to reject the physical contact. However, her eyes tell me immediately that my efforts were in vain, she noticed the flicker of uneasiness that passed through me.

“It’s not going to pass, none of it I mean, the assault, the pain, the trauma. You’ll be in this constant loop if you don’t move on.” She removes her hands and continues while walking past me. “What happened is now part of you. Let it make you better, stronger. Don’t try to sweep it under the carpet and forget it. There would be no Lex if it didn’t happen, let it make Lex what Lex is supposed to be.” She finished her pep talk with a strong note and I hope her words would sink in. I am not feeling them yet.

“Lex is supposed to find a job,” I answer ironically because she is right, and I am not in the place to admit that. Like I said before, I hate being scolded.

“I know. Kane told me you wanted one, but if you want to achieve what you stayed here for, you won’t succeed if you are pushing janitors’ carts around for 10 hours a day.” She is right again.

“I won’t succeed if I die from starvation either.” I almost bark at her. My nerves are getting stretched to the limit they haven’t been for a while. I am not an unruly teenager who needs to be disciplined, I’ve been through hell, and I will fight back. “You are not welcome here if you came to rub my lack of success in my face.”

She looks at me in the eyes and her expression changes into something I haven’t seen before. She is smiling, she is smiling proudly.

“That’s my Lex. With time you’ll get better when it comes to putting people in their place,” she says with that very same smile still gracing her face. “Anyway, let’s go.”

My eyebrows shoot up at her last sentence. “Where?” The fright is creeping back. Slowly but not unnoticeably.

“Wherever.”