Pray for Darkness (3 page)

My hand makes a fist in my pocket. That’s right. I left it at the studio. That’s why I couldn’t call Sasha to tell her I’d be late. I’d been in such a hurry to get here. I’d been so foolishly, selfishly happy… “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I don’t know what to do.”

She grabs my shirt. “Don’t do it. Don’t tell her.”

“Sasha, I can’t even ca—”

“Don’t fucking tell her! I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I don’t want every fucking second of every fucking day to be me reliving this shit! If you tell her, then she’ll know. She’ll always know. Every time I look at her, I’ll know that she knows. Don’t you understand? I won’t see her anymore. I’ll see…him on top of me…and…”

Her hands shake before her eyes. It’s like she’s not seeing them. Like she’s not seeing anything.

You just told me
, I realize.
Does that mean every time you see me for the rest of your life, you’ll see him on top of you?

I push down the selfish thought. I’ll deal with that later. “Sasha.” I try to let all the love I’ve ever felt for her seep into my voice. If there was ever a purpose to all that love, it was so that it wouldn’t make me go insane at this moment.

“Don’t tell her. Please.”

“I won’t.”

“Trev, please.”

“I won’t. I don’t even have my cell. I left it at the studio, remember? Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t call her.”

“Good.” Her voice breaks. She falls to the ground and hugs her knees, rocking back and forth.

I want nothing more than to touch her. To rub her back as we cry together.

I
want.

My hands twitch nervously at my sides. She doesn’t want to be touched right now, does she? What a stupid question. Of course she doesn’t want to be touched. And more than that, I don’t trust myself to touch her.

My heart breaks piece by piece. It isn’t enough. I can’t make my pain match hers. Whatever horrific images sits inside my head isn’t as bad as hers. I haven’t lived it. I can’t really feel it.

I remember the day I came home from Trevin’s house that Sunday morning my Freshman year in High School. Mom and dad had been off on some trip and John was at some girls’ house. I saw Brian and Sasha sitting at the counter on mom’s antique stools. They hadn’t heard me come in. Their ankles were linked and they were holding hands. Sun streamed through the kitchen windows between them and Sasha couldn’t stop smiling. And I knew, I just knew, that they’d lost their virginities to each other the night before.

I used to think nothing could hurt me more than seeing them together in that moment. What a stupid, selfish, immature kid I’d been.

She sobs as if she’ll never stop sobbing. Nervous energy I can’t do anything with builds inside me. I want to scream. I want to break something. I want to run. I’m still stupid and selfish. I’m still so goddamn immature.

Some people think that everything happens for a reason. That experiencing bad things only makes you stronger. But what is the fucking point of her having to endure something like this? I wish I could rip that memory from her and bury it so deep inside my heart that only I would know what happened.

But I can’t. She’s right. I don’t understand or know what to do. I can only stand here as she breaks before me, too afraid to touch her as this useless, consuming love for her eats me away. As the stale air dries my cheeks, making my skin tight. As the growing darkness envelopes us both.

Chapter 3

Trevor

She stands and wipes her eyes with the back of her wrist. She smears her makeup, making it look like she has a black eye. “So you’re not going to do it.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You don’t want this disgusting body anymore than I do, do you?”

My stomach twists. “That’s not it.”

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” She takes a few steps, then leans back onto the wall next to where I stand. “Are you leaving, then?”

“Do you want me to stay?”

She strokes the base of her neck. “Do you want to stay?”

Instantly, I go hard.
Fuck. Me
. I can’t do this. I turn my back to her and walk out of the apartment.

A ray from the setting sun hits my eyes. I throw my forearm over my face. Just as I’m about to step forward, she grabs the back of my shirt.

“Don’t tell anyone. Please, Trev. Don’t. I’m begging you.”

I grit my teeth.
Don’t tell. Don’t fucking tell. Just stay silent while those memories eat the girl you love from the inside out
. I step out of her pathetic grip, grab the cast iron railing and look out over the lot. Tia’s down there beside four other beaters, looking like shit behind those scraggly bushes.

“Trev.”

I don’t hear footsteps as she approaches, just her jeans rubbing against each other. A glance at the ground shows me she’s barefoot. She really shouldn’t be walking around outside like that.

She reaches for my shirt again.

“Don’t touch me.”

She jumps back. For a moment I think she’ll retreat back into her room, but she doesn’t. Not yet. She has more to say to me—something even more important than the proposition she gave me a few minutes ago. “Promise me you won’t tell.”

Of course that’s what she’s worried about. Not what happened to her and how she’s gonna deal with it. Or maybe she doesn’t care how she deals with it as long as no one else knows. Yeah, since she’s been sitting alone in a dark room for a few months, that sounds about right.

I slouch over, resting my elbows on the railing. “When are you gonna tell somebody?”

She lets out a shaky breath. “I just told you.”

“Other than me.”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know,” I mutter to myself. “Do you know who you’d tell?”

She doesn’t answer.

“I can think of a few people,” I offer.

“What, like the therapists at the Women’s Center?” she asks bitterly.

I don’t expect her acerbic tone. “Yeah,” I say, taken aback.

“I’m not enrolled anymore.”

“I don’t think it matters. It’s a good place to start.”

When she answers, her voice is small, fragile, and infinitely breakable. “I don’t want that.”

Out of habit, I reach for the cigarettes in my pocket. “How do you know? Have you tried it?”

I know I’m walking on shaky ground. Earlier, back in the apartment, questions like that one made her fall apart. But she looks as tired as I feel, and I doubt she’d let herself go like that outside.

“No, and I don’t want to,” she responds evenly. “I don’t want to sit in a circle with a bunch of other women while someone tells us how strong we are because we survived. Surviving didn’t take any strength. It didn’t take anything. Just enduring it, and not fighting so hard that the only way he could finish the job is if he killed me.”

I don’t think I’m breathing. I think the ground just opened up and I’m falling straight down. I think I’ve already hit the bottom. I think I’ve dead and my mind hasn’t yet realized it. I let go of the cigarettes and tun to reach out to her, but the sound of her voice stops me.

“If I was in a ditch somewhere, or the hospital with every bone in my body broken, that would mean I’d been strong. Instead, I merely
survived
.”

“Don’t even fucking even say that.” My voice shakes. It sounds even more fragile than hers.

Her beautiful blue eyes blink up at me. They’re red and black around the edges but they look empty, as if they’ve never cried. “Why? Because it’s true?”

Because I’d fucking die with you. Because every part of me worth existing would die
. “Just don’t. God, why do you ha—”

I stop myself just in time from saying it, but my mouth burns as if I had.

She smiles, slowly. That cheery dimple in her left cheek shows up. For some reason seeing it there on that face full of self-loathing kills me. “What were you gonna ask me, Trev?”

I swallow.

“You were gonna ask why I hate myself so much, right?”

I shut my eyes. “Is that why you want me to hurt you? Because you hate yourself?”

“Maybe,” she whispers, “but mostly, I just don’t want to be controlled by the fear anymore. Then again, that could be just another excuse. I don’t know.”

Something in the way I’m looking at her makes her glance away. Her nostrils flare, slightly, as she holds her torso.

“You need to talk to someone, Sasha. I can’t do that for you.”

She tilts her head. Hair falls over her face, masking it entirely. “Yeah.”

“Maybe you think those circles at the Women’s Center are stupid, but they’re trying. They’re dealing with it the best they can.”

“I know. So am I.”

I can’t stand seeing her like this. My hands itch to touch her.
You could do it
, a dark voice says inside me.
You could pretend to do it, but just hold her instead
. Once that insidious thought took hold, it was impossible to get it out. I had to remind myself that holding her was only what I wanted. She didn’t want me. Not really. She just wanted someone to force her…

I glance back out over the lot. The air’s oddly warm for autumn. I’m still not used to how fast it gets dark. “I think I should go.”

“Trev, don’t tell anyone.”

We were back to that. Of course. “I won’t. I can’t tell anyone anyways. Left my phone at the studio, remember?”

“But when you get it back—”

“Don’t worry. I’m not the person who should be telling people.” I get up and reach into my pocket. I run my forefinger over the serrated edge of my house key as I take three steps.

“You said you wouldn’t leave.”

My gut contracts as if it’s been hit.

“You said you wouldn’t, and I said you would. I wish you hadn’t said anything.”

My heel falls heavy on the first stair.

“Trev, I’m sorry.”

My throat tightens. That’s what I should say, what I want to say. Why is it coming from her? What the fuck does she have to be sorry about? I reach for the railing and stop, one foot on the walkway, the other on the first step, while a few fruit flies circle my face.

Her door closes. I hadn’t heard her move at all this time.

I look up at the darkening blue sky. You can already see the moon but not any stars, not in this smog. I used to think that was so strange when I was really little that the moon could be out at the same time as the sun. Well, just barely the same time. The sun was almost gone.

I stand there until its completely set. A woman carrying two plastic grocery bags gives me a strange look as she boogies up the staircase, but I still don’t move. The sky is really beautiful, it’s so fucking beautiful, and Sasha can’t see it. She’s in a dark room with the blinds closed—in a dark room that only gets darker and darker and darker while I’m out here, looking at this beautiful sky while she’s alone.

What the fuck am I doing? Why aren’t I with her now? She needs me. She was afraid I would leave if she told, and that’s exactly what I did, right after I told her that nothing could make me leave.

I believed that promise when I made it. Every part of me believed it. I couldn’t even imagine a world where it wasn’t true. I couldn’t imagine…

Hurt me. I want you to hurt me, Trev.

Panic animates my legs. I’m down the stairs, on the gravel walkway, eking open my car door so I don’t hit the little red Honda next to me. Tia’s gears groan groggily as she lurches to life. I get out of Sasha’s parking lot as fast as Tia allows, wanting to put as much space between me and whatever the fuck that was back there as I can.

I don’t even make it a block before I pull over on the side of the road.

You think you’re protecting me by not doing this? I hurt all the time. Everything hurts. I don’t want to give the pain power over me anymore. I don’t want to feel anything. Help me
.

Maybe I should go back. Hold her in that way that makes her cry. Lock her in my embrace in that dark room where we’re both trapped by our private despairs: all the things we want to say to each other that don’t really mean anything; thinking of all the things we want to do or change but can’t.

Help me.

But she doesn’t want my help. Not really. She wants me to…

Hurt me. I want you to hurt me
.

My throat contracts. I feel like I’m gonna puke. I grip the wheel as my stomach muscles cramp.

No.

No.

No.

I can’t.

I will never do that.

Hurt me.

I would do almost anything for her. Why does she want that? Why won’t she let me help her? Love her?

Hurt me.

Why can’t I get her voice out?

Hurt me.

Why won’t it shut up?

Fucking shut up!

Hurt me.

I said shut up.

Hurt me
.

Stop.

Just stop. Just fucking stop.

Please, sweetheart. Stop.

Hurt me. Hurt me. Hurt me
.

I slam my forehead into the wheel and cry.

***

Trevor

I still haven’t moved. Clock’s busted, so I have no idea how much time has passed. Don’t care either. I’ve settled into this strange state of numbness. I know I’m angry. I know I just want to cry again like a whiny bitch. But I can’t bring myself to act on anything. I don’t even move. Cars file past leisurely at 25mph and I just look ahead at the gravel before me illuminated by Tia’s headlights.

I’m sitting there like that when I see her car breeze past.

I don’t why I saw her. Maybe that’s just how attune to her I am, or maybe I was looking for her the whole time, I don’t know. My hand turns the key and the car rumbles to life before I’m even aware that I’m moving.

Tia’s acting up even more than before; she’s always been a little jealous of other girls, kind of like
Christine
except instead of trying to kill them she just makes both me and her look like such trashy shit that no chick with any shred of integrity would get near us. Sasha has to hear me rumbling behind her, but she doesn’t try to lose me. Instead, she turns on her blinker and turns onto the road that leads out of town.

“Where the fuck are you going, Sasha?” I whisper.

About ten minutes later she pulls into
Haven
, a low-key bar frequented by farmers.

I stop the car and kill the lights.

What the fuck is she doing here?
Haven
is an okay place. Drinks are priced about right, the locals always have fun stories, and a lot of tone-deaf people show up for karaoke on Thursdays.

Sasha is tone-deaf, and it isn’t Thursday.

She pops open her door. One long, beautiful leg laced-up with fuck-me boots pops out.

Oh shit.

She gets out and pulls on the hem of her little red dress, making sure the slip of fabric is covering her ass—well, covering as much of it as it can. She spins around to grab her purse, giving me a good look at her tits all pushed up and begging to be grabbed. Then, she turns and walks straight through the cowboy doors into
Haven
.

I watch the doors swing.

What just happened? I did just see that, didn’t I? I don’t know what she’s thinking. I don’t know what the
fuck
she’s thinking. What the hell is she doing here? She can’t be doing what I think she’s doing.

I glance at the dashboard and panic. I have no idea how much time passed from the time she got out of the car to the time she stepped inside the bar. Not enough time for her to walk past the kitchen where the cook always blasts Bryan Adams to the bathroom in the back. Not enough time for her to already be on her knees beneath the Blue Ribbon analogue clock next to the toilet that always smells like burnt fries and piss.

Yeah right. It’s enough time. If I was sitting at the bar and a girl looking like that sat down next to me and said
let’s go
, I’d fuck her. I wouldn’t even mind being serenaded by Bryan Adams. Hell, thirty seconds was enough time.

I’m about to bust out of the car, walk in there and carry her out over my shoulder when she emerges with some chubby hick who has his hand on her ass.

I stop breathing. Stop moving.

The hick tilts his hat down, opens the passenger door of his pickup, and holds her hand while she hops inside.

***

Trevor

They’re easy to follow. The truck is white and the left tail-light is out. They move on the winding roads next to the river further away from town. It’s quiet. Isolated.

I have no idea what I’m doing. I feel like a stalker. I think I actually am stalking her. Who follows a chick around while she and some guy look for a place to fuck? And what the hell am I gonna do when they get there?

I try not to think about it.

Tia’s not making as much noise. Maybe she knows my heart’s breaking into a thousand pieces and feels sorry for me, or maybe she’s just tired. I don’t know. All I know is Sasha’s in that truck and it’s going nowhere good.

Does she still not know I’m following her? Or maybe she knows I’m following and she’s still doing this to punish me.

They pull off the road into the little lot people use to park when they go hiking. I kill the engine and watch the light of their car wind down the road. Then, I get out.

I crouch low and keep just off the road as I make my way towards them in the dark. I’m not thinking, that much is obvious. All I can hear are frogs croaking and the low hum of the asshole’s pickup.

I really don’t like the looks of this.

The truck’s lights are still on. I see her silhouette hop out and walk to the front of the truck. The guy gets out slower. He adjusts his cowboy hat and says something with a big smile on his face that I want to punch off so hard that he won’t have anything else to smile about for the rest of his life.