Depths (19 page)

I went to my couch and sat, completely
dumbfounded.

“
Now pay attention for the last
time,
”
he continued,
“he already got to her house. You can't stop that. Haven't I
already explained that you were in a memory? You can change
and
damage
your
memory of what happened, which you've done a damn good job of, but
you can't change what
actually
happened.
”

“
So what did he do to
her?
”

“
You know what he did.
”
His voice was completely flat as he said
it,
“And you know what he's going to do to
you.
”

“
But why?
”

My head was racing with questions.

“
Because of
you
.
”

“
Stop being vague
goddammit!
”

“
What was the first thing I asked
you to do when we got here? I asked you to remember what you were
doing before all of this didn't I? And what did you decide to do
instead? You went to play around in a memory of a dream of a
whatever the fuck you
’ve been doing. What
were you doing before all of this?
”

“
I don't know,
”
I let my head fall into my hands,
“I don't
know
.
”

The Voice In My Head threw his hands up in the air
in exasperation.

“
You were meeting up with her! You
were meeting up with
her
! How dense are you?
”

The closer I got to the door, the stronger the smell
got. The smell of sweat. And sex. And something else... I couldn't
quite place it.

“
I mean come on, it's a well known
fact that someone who suffers a traumatic experience will often
times put themselves into a fantasy world in their mind where the
event never happened...
”

Blood painted the walls, no corner of the room was
spared at least one drop. Streaks of it crawled up from the head
board of her bed. The sheets were saturated to the point where the
blood appeared black.

“
...and the only time someone in
that state can come out of it...
”

What the hell was he doing here?!

“
...is if they can unlock the
buried memory...
”

...a baseball bat over his shoulders in one hand,
his other hand held several feet of chain.

“
...of the traumatic
event...
”

“
Call me
Charles.
”

“
You wouldn't be sitting here if
you didn't. So if you were me, what would you do?
”

When he shifted I could see a wide slit on her neck,
opening and closing every time he thrust in and out of her.

“
...and confront the
source...
”

“
Laaa la. La le la, laaa... Laaa
la. La le la laaa...
”
She sang, spiraling
and turning.

The last thing I felt was her fingers running
through my hair.

“
...in order to bring
closure...
”

They had never gotten along well.

Charles clearly wasn't impressed with me.

“
...and to finally break the cycle
that the mind has created...
”

Remember your last meeting with him?

“
Ah, I see a light bulb has
clicked. I think you've got it now. You asked me why I had you
remember your last meeting with him, but I don
’
t think you remembered
right
.
”

I felt sick. I squeezed my head trying to make the
thoughts stop but they were rushing and flooding my skull like a
tsunami.

“
Let me help you remember a little
better.
”

As he said it, the thought of when I first thought
the Voice In My Head into existence popped into mind.

At first glance he appeared to have the same tired
look in his blue eyes that I did, only they were much sharper. A
kindness that glossed over intent and a slight malevolence I
couldn't quite place.

“
Please babe, I don't want to talk
about it. Just leave it be.
”

I squeezed her hand from across the table. Her
dining room seemed a little chillier than normal. We had been
sitting here like this for at least fifteen minutes and our plates
of food had long since gone cold.

“
I just don't understand why you
won’t tell me. You and your dad have never gotten along, ever. And
now he's moving in with you?
”

She let go of my hand and put hers in her lap.

“
Hun,
”
her voice had an edge to it,
“he
just is. And besides, there will be someone here to house sit if we
ever go away for a while.
”

She smiled but I could tell it was fake. She had
never really told me a whole lot about her father. It didn't make
sense why she was all of a sudden letting him move in.

“
You know, I've never even
met
your father. And you
don't ever really talk about him.
”

“
Well
, I was thinking about having
him over for dinner next week or something.
”

Not what I was going for by making that comment.

“
Yeah sure. You sure he's going to
like me?
”

“
He'll love you babe, just be
yourself!
”

Just be yourself. What did that even mean?

I faked a laugh for her and returned her gaze. Her
eyes, to someone who didn't know her, would appear to be bright and
happy. But they weren't. She wasn't telling me something.

“
Why don't you ever talk about
him?
”

“
Why do you have to keep
pushing
when I say I
don't want to talk about something?
”

Her voice was bitter now.

“
Because I want to know! Geez,
what's so wrong about wanting to know what your dad is like? Shit,
I've only been dating you for a couple of
years
now and you've only mentioned
him a handful of times. I just want to know.
”

There it was, her eyes revealed themselves now.
There was pain in them and I knew she was fighting back tears. She
was good at that.

“
My mother died when I was nine
years old,
”
she began,
“and he was devastated. He never used to have an anger
problem, but he started drinking a lot after she died. And
sometimes,
”
she choked up, paused and
sniffled a little before continuing,
“
sometimes he would get mad at me. The more the years went on,
the more he would drink and the angrier he would get, and the more
he would hit me.
”

The tears were streaming by now. I could do nothing
but listen in shock as she told her story. I had never talked to
anyone with a past like that. At least not that I knew of. I had no
idea what that was like.

She continued,
“
The hitting wasn't the worst. There were other
things too...
”
She trailed off and looked
away from me. The pain radiated off of her and seemed to flood the
entire room, making the air thick and difficult to
breathe.

“
What other things?
”
I asked.

“
Don't, please don't. I don't even
want to remember. I do everything I can to not think about it.
Saying this much is hard enough please don
—”

She broke off, her entire body convulsing with
sobs.

I got up from my seat and knelt by her side and
gripped her hand. It was silent for some time, she sniffed and
wiped her eyes, still looking at the floor. I wasn't sure what to
say, so I said:

“
I'm
sorry.
”

I
’
m a fucking virtuoso when it
comes to conversation.

I should have just not said anything after that, but
I had to ask.

“
Then why, after what he's done to
you, are you letting him come here?
”

She jerked her hand out of mine with a look of pure
malice in her eyes.

“
What the fuck is your problem?
Why does it matter to you? You have no idea what its been like
living with something like that and you have no right to keep
prying,
”
she said it calmly and
dangerously,
“you should
leave.
”

She glared at me and a single tear drop fell from
her eye and landed on her hand.

If you were to ask me now why I said it, I wouldn't
be able to give you an answer.

“
Do you know how much of a pain in
the ass it is trying to deal with a selfish, secretive
bitch
all the
time?
”

Her nostrils flared and her eyes flashed with rage.
She picked up her plate and hurled at it me. Luckily it missed and
it crashed into the wall behind me, spraying me with bits of food
and porcelain.

“
Are you fucking crazy?!
”
I screamed at her.

“
Get OUT!
”

“
You've got some
serious
mental issues
bitch,
”
I pointed at her and backed away
keeping my eye on her hands. There was still another plate on the
table,
“get some fucking help from a
fucking professional cuz' apparently
my
help isn't good
enough.
”

“
Just GO!
”

She was trying to stay tough and not start crying
again but it wasn't going to last much longer. And I knew what to
say to make her call me later and apologize.

I was almost at the door but I stopped.

“
When you're up in your room alone
and crying your eyes out, just remember who it was who started
throwing shit. And remember who it was who just wanted to help and
get to know their girlfriend a little better.
”

As I shut the door I glanced back to see if my words
had hit home. They had.

The diner was unusually crowded. People were
chatting and the waiters and waitresses were bustling about,
attending to their tables. It was kind of a far drive to go to such
a mediocre place, but this is where he wanted to take me so I
agreed.

Charles Green sat across from me,
nonchalantly chewing on a piece of chicken-fried steak. I
didn
’
t know how
he could eat it. Grease pooled underneath the meat on his plate and
oozed out of it as he cut into it with his knife.

I looked at my plate, a half eaten
cheeseburger and some stale fries sat there, slowly getting colder.
I didn't have much of an appetite. I took another sip of my
water
—
probably tap
water
—
and looked back at Charles. While he
was clearly savoring his meal, he didn't seem to have the same
affection towards me.

“
All I want you to do is to talk
to her
—”

“
Listen up you little shit, let me
get one thing clear to you. I. Don't. Give. A.
Fuck
. About you. Not one bit. I had
to listen to my daughter crying to me over the phone about the
arguments you guys got into, the names you called her. And now you
honestly expect me to help you try and win her heart back or
whatever it is you want to do? You're out of your fucking
mind.
”

His glasses had slipped down his nose and he pushed
them back up with his finger. His face was flushed and his eyes
were heated with anger. I sat in my chair, ashamed, and knowing
full well what he meant.

I wasn't perfect. But what he was describing wasn't
a regular occurrence. We definitely had our arguments though.

“
I'm sorry I lost my temper
babe.
”

She sounded sincere but I couldn't quite tell since
it was over the phone.

“
It's OK hun.
”

I was still a little annoyed.

“
I'll tell you what's going on
with my dad if you still want to hear?
”

“
OK, I
’ll
listen.
”

“
After I moved out, me and my dad
didn't talk for almost six years. One day he shows up at my house,
I never even gave him my address. He must have looked me up or
something. Well, he shows up and literally breaks down and starts
crying, apologizing and talking about how much he hates himself for
what he did and that he
’s been getting
help. Last week he called me and told me he was diagnosed with
cancer and wanted to be with me while he was being treated because
he had no where else to go. So I agreed. And that's why he's moving
in.
”

It was silent for a moment. I had had no experience
with something like this. I wanted to kill the guy for what he did,
but I wanted to be understanding and take her side.

“
How am I supposed to be in the
same room as this guy after knowing all of this?
”

Charles was still mad dogging me from across the
table. He had stopped eating his chicken-fried steak some time
ago.

“
Well? Are we done
here?
”

“
Honestly, how do you expect me to
sit and have dinner with this guy after knowing this?
”

Wrong thing to ask.

“
How do even you even think you
have a right to ask something like that?
”
She spat back at me,
“I was the one
who had to grow up with him, I am the one who's had to live with
what he did, I am the one who's had to come to terms with him and
you think you have the right to ask that question?
”