FOREVER MINE (3 page)

I woke up around 6am stiff and sore from sleeping in my truck.  Steph is going to be pissed. I start the engine, confident everything here will be fine since it was quiet all night, and drive home.

When I get there she is gone.  Her suitcase and some of her things are missing as well.  I was expecting something like this to happen.  Still it feels lonely here now.  I like having a feminine presence fill the empty space.  I try to call her cell phone, it goes to voicemail.  I leave a message saying how sorry I am, and I will call later. Then, I go take a shower, shave, and dress for the day.

I only feel marginally better after the shower.  My head is still trying to put together a plan to get Charlie to go to the cops and tell them what happened yesterday.  I think I will just try to bribe her.  Bribe her with
danish
.

I stop at the bakery and grab some
danishes
and coffee.  I know the way to Charlie’s heart is through a raspberry
danish
.   I grab my bag and get back into my truck and drive toward Charlie’s house.  When I get there I look around to make sure everything is as I left it.  It looks fine. I climb the stairs to the third floor and stop in front of her door.  Just as I am about to knock I hear her cry out. I knock as loud as I can.
“Char, open up!”
 I pound on the door again with increased urgency.

“I’m coming.”

OH, good.  She must have been having a nightmare.  Not that I want her to have nightmares, but it’s better than the scenario running through my head.  I was a few seconds from breaking down her door.

The door opens enough to see the security chain still in place.  She looks tired and is still in the same clothes as yesterday.  Her curly hair is a mess of wild frizzy pieces.  I love it.

“You better have brought me coffee.”

I see how grumpy she’s trying to be and say the only thing I can think of, “Good morning to you, too, princess.” I know she hates being called that, but I can’t help myself.

She glares at me.  “Say that again and I won’t let you in.”

“Oh, come on, I brought you raspberry danish and coffee, just the way you like it.”

“Alright,” the door opens and closes, “come on, get in here.”

After some small talk she stalks off to the bathroom to shower and change clothes.  I move around the kitchen getting plates, forks, napkins and set the table for a relaxing breakfast.  I make a small pot of coffee knowing that one cup of carry out isn’t going to be enough after the night we’ve both had.

Sitting in the kitchen waiting to or her to finish showering, I try to remember the couple that Charlie and Michael once were. At first I was so jealous.  They were prefect for each other.  Smart, athletic, friendly, they were the couple everyone wanted to be like or be around and somewhere it all went wrong.                     

After high school Michael went away to school.  Charlie could only afford community college.  Half a semester went by and somehow Michael convinced her to take out student loans and transfer to his school.  He said he didn’t want her to be lonely and find someone to comfort her.  To ease his mind she left with him.

During college we talked but she always seemed nervous.  She never called if he was around.  When she came home, he was always with her. He never left her side. She never came home when her mom died in that car accident, she left it up to Michael to take care of everything.

The few times we hung out she seemed different:  Always waiting on Michael, asking if it was ok to meet up with her girlfriends, making sure she was never alone with anyone for too long.  The energetic, fun girl, with the devilish smile who helped the new boy at school feel welcomed, was gone.  My heart mourned her.

What happened next I should have seen coming.  I cornered her in a room at a party. I demanded she tell me what was going on.  She got scared, told me to lower my voice. She didn’t want Michael to hear them.  She told me she was scared.  He doesn’t let her breath.  She can’t work.  She has no friends.  She can’t go food shopping without being accused of cheating on him.  She starts to cry, so I do what I’ve always done.  I pull her into my arms.  My body remembers her, how she fits so well. 
My Charlie.
  She’s here.  She is clinging to me, desperately.  She picks her head up and looks at me like I am the only one in the world who exists. I slowly lower my mouth to hers, giving her plenty of time to run away, she closes her eyes and her lips part slightly, there is a pounding on the door and she jumps away from me like she has been electrocuted.

Michael bursts through the door, fuming. Grabs her and leaves.  I didn’t even react.  I couldn’t. What was I doing? I walked through the party to try to find her, to apologize.  They were gone. 

The next day she came to say goodbye.  She was sporting a black eye, bruised jaw, and flinched when I hugged her.  She said she had too much to drink at the party and fell down the stairs.  That was also the day she told me she was engaged and our friendship is over.  Men and women shouldn’t be friends. It is inappropriate.  People talk.

I ask her about all the things she said to me at the party last night.  How she‘s afraid of him, how he doesn’t let her breathe, and what about the accusations of being unfaithful?  She tells me she over reacted and was wrong.  He is just protective and is afraid to lose her.  She explained now that they are engaged things will be different.  He promised her.

I died that day.  Besides the fact I loved her since forever, she is my best friend.  She is the only one who loves me for me. It might only be brotherly love but it is real.  More real
then
anything I’ve had.  After my parents’ divorce, things got bad for me.  My dad ran away with his girlfriend and my mom drowned her pain in booze and pills. It’s cliché, but true.

Charlie knew what was going on she never forced me to talk about it. Never lectured me when my anger and sadness ruled my better judgment and I beat up a tree or punched a wall or even started getting in more and more fights at school.  She would sit and listen.  Every night she left her bedroom window unlocked so I could come in and sleep with her if the loneliness got to be too much.  Some nights just knowing she was there was enough.  Most nights I would climb up into her room and sleep with her in my arms.

Before they left I paid Michael a visit.  Charlie was packing up what little was left at her and her mother’s house.  He answered the door wearing a smug grin.  I punched him right in the face.  No warning, no exchange of words, I put everything into that punch.  I told him; if I find out he is responsible for her condition, I will kill him.  If I ever find out he touches her, I will kill him. 

Rubbing his jaw, He laughs at me. Tells me to leave and stay away from them.  They will be married and there is nothing I can do about it.  Then he slams the door in my face.                                                 
**********

I stand up from the table, I’m fucking pissed, it’s been years and the memories still hurt like it was yesterday.  I slam my empty coffee cup into the garbage and go in search of a mug to get fresh coffee from the pot I brewed.  While pouring my cup she shuffles into the room, I look at her and my anger evaporates.  I can’t imagine what
she
is feeling. Putting my selfish feeling aside, I get another mug and make her a second cup of coffee.  She has the first almost gone.

“Feel better?” I ask

“Cleaner.  I don’t know when I will ever feel better.” Sighing she scrunches her wet hair, absently grabs a loose curl and twirls it around between her thumb and pointer finger. “How about you, did you get some sleep last night? Steph wasn’t mad you got home so late was she?”

How do I answer this one? “Yeah, she was a little mad. Actually I never went home last night, I slept in my truck.  I wanted to make sure everything here was alright.”

“Why?”

“I had to. I can’t let anything happen to you”

“Why?” her head is hanging and I can see the tears running silently down her cheeks.

I reach for her and pull her into my lap, “I love you, and you know that, right?”

“You can’t.  I’m broken.”  She stands and walks to her room. She closes the door and locks it.  I hear her sobbing onto her pillow. I know she needs it and will be ok after a good cry, but I want to help. 

After a minute I walk over to her door and knock. “Unlock the door and let me in.”

The door unlocks. I turn the knob and enter her room.  She is already sitting back on the bed, but her crying has stopped.  God she is beautiful.  “You know you look awful after you cry.  Your nose is red, your lips swell, (oh, god) and your cheeks are blotchy.  Your eyes are awesome though.  It’s like they turn neon green. It’s pretty cool.”

Throwing her pillow at my head she laughs and pretends anger.  ”You’re an ass!”

Sitting next to her “You ok?”

“Nope”

“Ready to go to the police station and tell them what happened?”

“Nope”

“Charlie Alyssa James, you are going.”

“I know, you asked if I was ready, to that question the answer is no, I am not.  Am I going, anyway? Yes.” Glaring at me she adds “The full name, really?  That’s low Harrison, real low.”

Laughing I pull her up off the bed ruffle her hair and say, “Let’s go kid, before you lose your nerve.”

“I am 30 years old, not a kid.”

I ignore her and walk through the little apartment straightening things as I go.  Turn off the coffee, clean up the table and counter, and grab her light jacket hanging by the door and motion for her to come on. “Let’s go.”

“I’m coming.”  She is dragging her feet but at least she’s moving.

I walk into the bathroom to take a shower.  I can’t remember the last time I have felt so defeated.  Yes, I can, I just don’t want to.  I wash my hair with my favorite strawberry shampoo; put my conditioner in to soak, while I shave my legs.  As I rinse everything off I start to think about what I am about to do.

I sit on the floor of the tub and let the hot water beat on my back, try to dissolve the tension that has taken up residence over the last three years.  Talking to the cops is not going to be fun or easy, but it’s something I need to do.

               
**********

“Can you please state your full name for the record, please?”

“Charlie Alyssa James”

“Ok, and Ms. James will you please state the full name of the accused for the record?” 

“Michael Ryan Parker”

“Ms. James, please state the events of last night, May 7, 2010, for the record.  Please try to use as much detail as you can.”

“We, Mr. Parker and I, were having a cook out with some neighbors.  It is early for cooking on the grill but with the weather being so nice, we thought, why not? There were about 10 people over some married, some single.  Everyone was having a really good time.  We had some alcoholic beverages to drink, played darts in the garage; we even jumped on a neighbor’s trampoline. When everyone left, Michael, Mr. Ryan, got very angry with me and said I was flirting with all the men. He said I was a whore and everyone else thinks so, too.  I said I was sorry I wouldn’t do it again, and tried to hug him.  He pushed me away and said I made him sick.  I am a disgusting person and he doesn’t know why he is with me.  Again, I try to say sorry and put my arms around him.  He grabs my arm and bends it behind my back, and pulls my hair turning my head to the side exposing my throat in a way that I am unable to move from.  He starts to kiss my neck and I yell for him to stop.  I don’t want to have sex when he is this mad at me.  He screams in my face telling me he can fuck me if he wants, because I am his.  He says I would have had sex with any of the men here tonight because I’m a worthless whore.  He rips my shirt off my body, sending buttons flying in every direction. He slaps my face when I try to push him off me, rips my under ware off.  I try to kick, scratch, pull his hair but I can’t get away. The whole time I’m screaming at the top of my lungs.  Praying someone hears me. He punches me so hard in the jaw to stop me from yelling, I almost black out.  My struggling stops long enough for him to pry my legs open and force his way into me.  He thrusts so hard I am now screaming from pain.  When he is finished there is blood between my legs and running down my face.  He split my lip and my jaw and nose feel broke.”