Maeghan Wrist----- 9 --“GET OFF ME!” I screamed at Ean. I hated him. I couldn’t be fixed with just some stupid hugs. With rejecting him repetitively, as if a broken record getting louder and louder, he just kept returning and trying to hold me tighter and tighter. I kicked him, scratched him, bit him, screamed at him; I did everything in my power to get him the fuck off me but he wouldn’t stop coming back. After two hours of constant fighting, he finally gave up and settled onto the floor next to my bed. Although I seriously doubt it was his intention, all the fighting he put me through left me to fall asleep fairly quickly. And when I fell asleep, I stayed asleep. I slept straight for fourteen hours before waking up feeling like I was dead. I laid on my bed for two hours before a noise on the ground made me realize that Ean was asleep there. I didn’t even bother to confirm. I just looked up to my dresser and noticed a ham sandwich on a paper plate with an already opened juice box next to it. In rage, I swiped my arm across them both, knocking them to the floor. With a short mumble and then silence, I was pretty sure both hit Ean. It only pissed me off more at how clever he and mom were in giving me the least destructive food and drink possible. Hours and hours and hours passed as I laid half conscious on my bed.
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Ean must have been doing the same silently on the floor. I was so hungry and so thirsty. I had to use the bathroom. A short while later, my mom silently walked in setting another ham sandwich and juice box down before leaving again. I stared only into my pillow as she did it. I waited maybe ten minutes before I heard the rattling of someone finishing off a juice box. Instantly I turned to my dresser but found my food still there. That was when I realized that my mom must have brought Ean a meal too. It was also when it hit me that Ean was the father; it was his baby as well. His baby died inside of me. That just gave me another reason to hate every possible thing in my life. That food I so much wanted to eat just became out of the question. How could I eat after not only losing my own baby, but Ean’s too. Weakly, I wiped the sandwich and juice box from the dresser. I found out that without the temptation, much of the pain from starvation went away.
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Sleep also came quicker and lasted longer. I woke up so many hours later soo thirsty. It was dark outside and the light in my room was off. Plenty of illumination leaked in through my bedroom doorway though from the hall. Enough to see another ham sandwich and two juice boxes. Quickly, I reached out for a box. I was shamefully amazed at how frail I felt. The box was so heavy for me. I dragged it back over my pillow and sucked the straw into my mouth. It was the greatest tasting drink I had ever had in my life.
Funneling it through a straw though had to be the worst thing ever. Almost two days without water and I had to fight so hard for such a tiny stream of heaven. Within thirty seconds, the box was empty. I threw it from the side of my bed and instantly reached for the second one. Soooo gooood.
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I wanted to cry as I finished it. I laid there another half a minute afterwards just sucking air through the straw and making the box flatter and flatter. And then another juice climbed over the edge of my mattress. Immediately, I dropped the one in my hand and snatched up the mysterious self moving box. It took another three more before I figured out that there was a hand pushing them up to me. At the next ascension of a box, I moved in and took a hold of the hand instead. It took minutes of silent stillness before I gathered the courage to scoot to the edge of the bed and look over the mattress. On the floor, I found Ean and two cases of juice boxes, one of them nearly empty. As he looked up to me so seriously, I couldn’t hold back my tears. “Y-you can hug me now if you still wa-want to,” I cried pathetically. Without delay, Ean was climbing onto my bed with me. He rolled me over and pulled me incredibly tightly into his body. He didn’t hold me like he usually did though. It wasn’t like a brother hugging a sister and I didn’t feel like he was my lover. Ean squeezed me into him as if I was his wife.
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He held me just as exactly as I would’ve hugged him if my arms weren’t pressed between us. His grip was that of one with unbelievable pain. Like we, together, lost something so unbearably special. There was a little bit of his dominance in it though; but that just made me feel better. “Ean,” I sniffed through my streams of eye drops. “What?” he cooed back in the most gentle voice. “I’m about to pee myself. ”Very slowly, he scooted us off my bed. The more my body moved, the less control I had. As much as I needed the slow comforting movements, Ean just didn’t understand what it was to not have used the bathroom in two days. Quietly humming to myself to hold back just a bit longer, my body floated in Ean’s arms through the hallway and into the bathroom. I wanted to cry as he turned back around and took the time to close the door. Realigning his path to the toilet was when the tiniest of spurts finally gave way the damn. With my bottom dangling down between his arms, the warmest, wettest, most relieving feeling poured out of my vagina and into my pants. I could hear the liquid dripping from my butt onto the tile floor.
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Looking down, I saw that entire area of my clothing darkened in my own urine. And I just kept going and going and going. Feeling the giant knot inside me diminish into nothing and seeing it all over myself and pouring onto the floor, all I could do was begin to cry. Ean set me down and leaned over to turn the bath water on. After a minute of checking its temperature, he plugged up the drain and returned to me.
I was hopeless. All I did was stand there perfectly still with my arms down and cry. Pulling a towel from the cupboard and throwing it to the floor to soak my mess up, Ean moved to lift up my shirt. Like a sobbing five year old, I was a mannequin to his guidance. He lifted my arms up and they stayed up. He removed my shirt and bra and pulled them back down. I just quietly shed my tears as he unbuttoned, unzipped, and dropped down my pants and underwear. Lifting each leg individually, he removed them from me and finished off with my socks. Walking me into the filling bathtub, I dropped down into the warmest water. There I laid as the steaming soothing fluid moved up my body from all around.
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Reaching my neck, he shut the spout off and began bathing me. He worked up from the bottom of my feet with a giant foamy sponge. He worked so slowly and delicately. Working on my knees, I noticed why and how he moved so slow without his usual short attention span breaking through. His head was bobbing up and down every now and again. His eyes flickered ever so often. He was struggling to stay awake as if I had just woken him after an hour of rest he so wanted from spending an entire waking day by my sleeping side. Up he moved to and past my thighs. Over my stomach and onto my breasts he washed and massaged so painstakingly. I forced myself to watch his utter devotion to me. I felt so incredibly guilty but for some reason, I just couldn’t stop him. There was something in me that just wouldn’t let me tell him to stop touching me and just go to sleep. Even though it looked like he wanted it so bad, there was a motion in his movements that told me he was happier to be washing me, he was far more grateful that he was able to tend to me so without my willpower to push him away nor my cognitive ability to actually thank him and appreciate what he was really doing. I spent nearly an hour inside that bath being caressed in every imaginable place by a giant silky bath sponge. Ean finally stood me up and began draining the water.
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Stepping me outside the tub, he so delicately dried every square inch of my body before he wrapped another large towel under my arms. He was so weak by then. Attempting to pick me up proved to be pathetically fruitless. After he nearly collapsed, I wrapped his arms over my shoulders and led him into his room. Apparently believing he was still in control, he nudged me onto the bed and slithered in behind me. He took me back into his hold and was unconscious within seconds. Laying on his bed naked, wrapped only in a towel, inside his arms somehow felt a lot more comforting than I would have ever imagined. I just laid there with him. I figured that it probably was my turn to be by his side as he slept so peacefully. -e. l. haneshanes_el@yahoo. com for personal feedback. .
