Never Meant to Be (2 page)

I started to thrust harder. 

“Stop it! Ah! Slow down, slow down. You crazy asshole, you're hurting me!” I heard the girl's voice echo as the darkness and fog started to clear. I struggled against my own demons and the chaos of my own thoughts.

Where the hell am I?
Who is this man who is fucking her, choking her, slapping her, and why does it feel like it’s me? Where is that man who was beating me? Am I hallucinating? Am I on drugs?

“Are you talking to me?” She asked. I must have been murmuring out loud. 

“Huh? No, nothing.”

“You know, Johnny, you're getting kind of psycho. You keep on muttering things to yourself.”

A glimpse of my past flashed before me again. It haunted me. It was like it had triggered something inside me. I buried my head in her hair, hoping that it would be enough to hide myself in it, and I increased my thrusting and slapping.

Then it happened again. I felt somebody touching my bare back and about to strike me. I turned, but there was only a dim light floating around the room and a patch of darkness collecting in the corners. There was nobody behind me--nobody touching me--but it felt so real.

“Asshole, what the hell are you looking at?” The hooker brought my gaze back. Every time I turned away, the darkness grew and kept on growing. 

The girl lit a cigarette and stretched out a little bit on the bed. “Are you still afraid of the dark, big boy?” She let out a puff of smoke. “When will you cum? I can’t wait for you the entire night. I don’t know what the hell your problem is. First you nearly choked me and were hitting me pretty hard, and now you're lying next to me like a scared little boy. Are you afraid that a monster will come out of that darkness and eat you?” She mocked.

I listened to every word she said, but couldn’t explain it to her.

“Can you...Can you stroke my hair?” I asked her, surprised by my own request.

“Damn it, Johnny, are you joking? Just give me the money if you're not going to finish. I've got other clients to meet.”

But I was looking for something else. I just wanted her to stay for few more minutes. I wanted to hold her until my heartbeat returned to normal.

But why would she let me do that? She wasn't my girlfriend, or my sister, or my mother.
I took out the money.

“Would you please just spend some time with me?” I dreaded the thought of being alone again.

“Go fuck yourself. Just give me my money.”

“Please...I don't even need cuddling or anything...We could just lay here with our clothes on and maybe talk a little bit while your stroke my hair.”

“Now you're just pissing me off.”

I handed her the money before she got angrier than she already was. And then she said it.

“Hey, Johnny...so Edi told me that you were fucked by a pedophile when you were kid." My heart stopped. "Tell me, how did it feel? Did he fuck you in ass? Is that why you're so screwed up?” She let out a bitter laugh.

“Shut the fuck up!" I yelled and I sprang up, pulling on my pants. "Go fuck yourself!”

I stomped out of the room and slammed the door shut, not even bothering to look behind me.

Edi told her? What the hell! The bastard can’t keep his mouth shut!

It’s always been hard to get over that. People say that there's a lot of fresh air in the street, but I suffocate here. The smell of people slowly rotting is everywhere. There are small puddles all over the place, and skinny dogs sniffing around the garbage. The whole world is intoxicated in its own rhythm.

I walked in that same rotting world. I walked to the corner of the street, and my worst fear sat there, staring at me: an old, withered homeless man, sipping his bottle of rum. He was always there on Fifth Street and always staring at me. His bloodshot eyes seemed to scream at me:
One day, you'll end up like this, too, and there's nothing you can do about it.
And, like a child who crosses the street as quickly as possible because he's afraid of bullies, I rushed passed him.

No,
I will never end up like him. I can't end up like him. I have to do something. I can...I...What can I do? What can I become?

I looked up at the sky. Dark thunder clouds hovered over me. Monsoon season was knocking at the door.

Why do I feel such unrest? Is it because I want revenge?
The man from my childhood still haunted me.
Or is there something deeper wrong with me? Why do I feel so empty?
The monster inside me quietly walked alongside my shadow.

Thank God I'm not alone.

I entered an abandoned shopping mall and was greeted by the sight of a gathering of homeless people. The majority of them were sitting around taking dope, trying to forget reality for a moment. That broken shopping mall was the address of many homeless people, including me.

“Hey, Johnny, where were you?” Edi hugged me. I felt his body sway against mine. He was high again.

“Did you tell that hooker about my past?”

“What hooker? What are you talking about?” Edi tried to act casual, but I knew him very well.

“Don’t play dumb with me, alright.”

“Okay, okay. So it slipped out of mouth. I was high, we were hooking up, and it just came out. I know you're sensitive and all that kind of shit, so I'm sorry.” Edi took a puff before speaking again. “And why are you worrying, man? By tomorrow, everything'll be alright. I talked with Katherine again, and she confirmed that he's here. Just hold on until tonight, and we'll shoot that bastard right in the dick.”

I sat down with them and joined the party, but there were hardly any drugs as intoxicating as man’s fate. The thought of the next day spun in my mind.

“Do you think we should trust Katherine? I mean, she's so rich...Why the hell would she want to help me out? I don’t trust these rich bitches.”

“Man, you're just thinking too much. And why do you care? You found your guy. That’s it. Take your revenge, and get high.”

Eight years. I've been looking for him for eight years. And tomorrow, I'll put a bullet between his eyes.

I reached into my pocket and felt the cold body of the gun waiting patiently. I let my fingers circle the barrel, trying to drown my thoughts.

“Hey man,” Edi passed me a syringe.

I threw out my cigarette and glanced around the broken hall. The busted chairs, the cardboard, the rust everywhere. Chaotic, like my life. I lifted my jacket sleeves to let the dope inside my vein, but a tattoo on the back of my hand caught my eye in the dim light. No fancy stuff, no dragon or star, just six letters: ESTHER. Esther, the only good thing I can recall in my life.

Why did I ink her name? What was I thinking?

I stared at the letters for a while, until I heard the sweet laughter of a small girl behind me. I turned, but there was nobody to be seen.

“What happened?” Edi asked me. His head was shaking like a vibrator. He looked ready to drop any minute. 

“Nothing.”

Would she even remember me now? She must have grown into a beautiful woman. Rich, smart...and maybe obnoxious. No, she won’t remember me. She definitely won’t...But she promised she would. What am I even thinking?

I hurriedly injected myself before I went crazy fantasizing about a girl who wouldn’t even recognize me. I closed my eyes and waited. Slowly, it hit me. I first couldn't feel my face, then my hands, and soon everything else followed. Suddenly, the world felt like a different place. It was blurred and numb and warm and distant, all at once. I sat down and stared up through a hole in the ceiling at the moon. Garbage was scattered on the ground around me.

Tomorrow it will be over, tomorrow I will get peace.
I murmured to myself, rubbing the cold surface of my gun.

***

Esther’s Diary

I know, our first meeting didn’t last long. But it left sparks, pure sparks. I had met a boy from another world. His deep eyes, his tattered clothes, those rough hands.... I blushed at the thought that it was my first encounter with any boy outside of my social class.  

I saw him again the day after we met. I was trying to write with my finger on the glass window of a restaurant that my dad was buying. I was so happy and busy playing alone with what little time I got. No butler, no maid, no private tutor to bother me. As I cleared the dusty glass with my palm, I saw him run past, followed by an angry looking crowd of pursuers. But why was he being chased? What did he do? He was just a kid, and kids were supposed to be loved by adults. Those adults were chasing him, throwing stones, shoes, and whatever else they could find.
Is this the outside world my dad always warns me about?

I snuck out unnoticed, and ran in the direction I saw Johnny go. The fear of getting lost was strong, but my curiosity was stronger. This time, I was much more cautious and I turned down the same alley I had seen them turn. But there was no sign of him. I took a few more steps, looking for him, but he still was nowhere to be found.

Then suddenly a big cardboard box moved next to me. And before I could even jump, that cardboard box had a face. He looked up and down the street before noticing that I was looking at him. Then he stood up and stepped out of the box.

We stared at each other silently.

“Are you hungry?” I said, hoping to break the awkward silence.

But there was no reaction from him. I pulled out some chocolate from my bag and gave it to him. He cautiously took it from me and looked me up and down. I didn't know what he was checking.

“What’s your name?” I asked him while he bit hungrily into the chocolate. He stopped and chewed for a moment before speaking.

“Johnny.”

“Johnny,” I murmured back. There was something in that name--or in him--that kept me wondering. I couldn't tell if he was older than me or younger than me, so I asked.

“How old are you?”

“I am about to be ten.”

I looked at his hands. They were filled with more scrapes and scars than I had even seen, yet alone on a nine-year-old boy. What did he do with those hands?

“Can I touch your hand?” I asked him before I could take it back.

He looked at me and nodded. I gently touched his hands, and his rough hands tickled my soft skin slightly. I really liked the sensation.

He pulled his hands back, turned, and started to walk. I followed him. I expected him to ask me my name, too, but his question was different. 

“Do you know how to pickpocket?” He looked at me with his deep eyes.

What kind of question is that?
I shook my head. He sat down on the sidewalk a little way away from a group of beggars.

“So tell me, do you go to school?” I asked to break the silence.

“Yeah, I've heard about it. What do they teach you there? How to be arrogant?”

Why would he say that
?
How can I be arrogant if I'm sitting here and listening to a boy like him?
And how can he say something like that when my parents say schooling is a very important part of life
? I never knew the secret behind his comment until later.

“No, it’s not like that. They teach good things, things that we need to survive.”

“Really.”

Is he mocking me?
Even if he was, I was intrigued.

Just as the thought cleared my mind, a man walking past us threw a coin at us.
Maybe he had mistaken us for beggars?

Johnny quickly snatched it up and pocketed it. “Remember, be the first one, or you're no one. So what'll you do when you get home?”

Something told me our conversation wouldn't last much longer.

“Hey, I just want to say thank you for that day. You're really brave." I said sincerely. "Let's shake hands. My dad says it's a way to show gratitude or greet people.”

“So what are we now, friends?” He fixed his eyes on me.

“I think so.”

"There he is!" A man shouted in the distance and started to run towards us.

Johnny pushed me away and started to run. When the man reached me, he rushed past and followed him. I got up and sprinted after. I tried to keep up with them, but I was slowly lagging behind. I was panting for breath. For a few seconds, I lost sight of them. I ran up the street while looking frantically. Then I saw him.

A policemen was grabbing Johnny by the hair and dragging him away. His eyes were starting to fill with tears and he reached out to try and seize anything that could help free him from the man's grasp. No matter how loudly he cried out, the man didn't loosen his grip. I started to panic.

I should help him, but what would I say to the police? What if my parents hear about it? How can I explain that I  befriended a boy like him
?

My thoughts were buzzing, but I didn’t have the courage to do anything. Slowly, the picture was becoming clear: two different worlds existed in just the distance of a few yards.

I felt helpless and sorry for Johnny. Luckily, though, that wasn’t the last time we met.