“Fair enough,” I said as I felt a strange flutter in my chest. Happy. I was happy Scott wanted to continue reading with me.
We ate the rest of our breakfast in silence except for discussing what chores we needed to get done before we could settle down with our books. I had a week worth of laundry to do while Scott needed to get the groceries. I offered to pay half of it, just now realizing that I had been eating his food without contributing anything to the groceries. How had I forgotten about that?
“Nah, it’s fine. You cook the dinner anyway, least I can do is get the groceries.”
“Scott, please. I know you probably earn more than me, but I need to be treated as an equal,” I swallowed, shifting my eyes to my plate as I worried that I’d said too much. He had bought everything for me, telling me it was because he cared for me so that when I realized what kind of monster he was, I had nothing of myself left with me. I couldn’t do that again, even if it was just some damn groceries. And Scott must have heard some of that in my voice because he nodded. “Alright, we’ll split it.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled, trying to push the thoughts of him out of my head. Scott was nothing like the man who’d destroyed me, who’d broken me into pieces. Scott was nice and kind and I needed to remember that.
“Alright. So let’s reconvene in an hour to meet and greet the Half-Blood Prince?” Scott said with a grin, making me chuckle and pull out of my thoughts. He was good at that, I realized, at making me laugh. I hadn’t noticed before but I’d laughed more since I became his roommate than I had in the whole year before that.
After washing up, Scott headed to the grocery store while I got the laundry started. By the time he returned, the laundry was all but done and we quickly put the groceries away before moving to the couch with our books and bottles of water. We read for hours, putting together sandwiches for lunch between chapters and taking small cookie and water breaks in between. I’d just reached the end of the chapter I’d been reading when Scott’s phone rang.
“Sorry,” Scott said, fishing out his phone from where it had ended up buried between the couch cushions.
“Hey, Mike,” Scott said as he answered, a smile appearing on his face. Mike was his best friend, and though I hadn’t met the man, the way Scott talked about him told me he was a good person.
“Mm-hm, yeah, yeah. Okay, let me ask Luke.” He pressed the phone against his chest and turned to me, “Mike’s cousin’s friend is in town and Mike was wondering if he could crash on our couch for tonight?”
I opened my mouth to tell him that it was his house and he could do whatever he wanted before I realized he was asking me because he wanted to know if I’d be okay with a stranger in our space. Of course I wouldn’t, but I could deal with it. I’d finish dinner early and then stay in my room until he was gone. Simple.
So I nodded my head and then hurried into the kitchen to start making dinner quickly. Scott ended the call after a few minutes and walked over to the kitchen and watched me for a moment from the doorway, respecting my space as always. I especially appreciated it right now because the thought of having a stranger in my safe space was making me feel a bit edgy. As if reading my mind, Scott spoke, “I can cancel.”
I shook my head, “Nah, your friend needs a place. It’s just one night anyway, right? I’m gonna turn in early, though, if you don’t mind.”
Scott nodded and I did just that. I was so glad my room had an attached bathroom as I washed up before donning my pajama pants and long-sleeved shirt for bed. I settled on my bed and picked up the book I’d been reading. It wasn’t from the Harry Potter series and I didn’t think I’d ever read it with Scott since it was a gay romance and I couldn’t see that happening. But Lane and Felix were characters who always made me laugh and I’d re-read the book many times, especially when I was having a bad day. So I settled back into my pillows and chuckled as Felix made his plans for kidnapping another animal into his family.
I wasn’t too surprised when I woke up from a dream I couldn’t remember—or maybe it had been a nightmare—and saw that it was just a few minutes past 3 a.m. Maybe I could make some tea and continue reading while I waited for sleep to greet me again. It was what I usually did on nights I couldn’t sleep and so with that thought in mind, I went into the kitchen and started the kettle, grabbing my box of teabags from the cabinet. I didn’t turn on the lights because the night lights were enough to guide me, and I’d learned that Scott was a light sleeper and I didn’t want to wake him. But a minute later I wished I had turned them on because just then, I felt a presence behind me. I knew it wasn’t Scott, mainly because he always stayed in the doorway unless I invited him in when I was in the kitchen and because he would never try to scare me like that. I slowly turned off the kettle, my mind going into overdrive as panic clawed its way into my mind. Was it a burglar? Or someone else? Did they want to hurt me?
I went to turn away and suddenly, there he was, pressing me into the counter. And then I was back in his house, in his kitchen and he was pressing me against the counter. I knew what was going to happen next. He would pull my pants down and force himself into me, without warning and he’d fuck me hard relishing my pain as he threatened to push my fingers into whatever appliance was the closest if I didn’t enjoy myself too. This couldn’t be happening. I’d left him. I’d escaped.
“Hey, baby,” the man whispered in my ear and it was his voice, the scent of his alcoholic breath threatening to make me dizzy. No, no, no. I couldn’t let that happen. Not again. Not again.
My eyes fell on the knife lying on the cutting board and I grabbed it, pushed the man away and whirled around to face him, pointing the knife at his face even as my hand shook. I tried to make my voice firm as I said, “Stay away from me.”
The man’s eyes fell on the knife in my hand and he raised his hands above his head, staring at me with wide eyes. “Chill dude, I was just trying to have some fun, Freak.”
He shook his head and walked away and then he was gone. It was only then that I remembered about the guy Scott had offered the couch to and realized it must’ve been him. But I didn’t have the energy to process what that meant. I jumped when I heard the front door slam shut and dropped the knife before sinking to my knees. I shuffled away from the knife, stuffing myself into a corner between the counter and the wall. I curled my arms around my knees, my eyes on the knife, the panic rushing through my body like a tornado as I shuddered.
It had been almost six months since I’d cut. I hadn’t felt this strong an urge to do it for months. But I needed it now. I needed it to release this tornado, this pain, this fear and hurt and anxiety that was brewing inside me. I needed to get it out, out, out before it drowned me. I felt like I’d burst into a million pieces if I didn’t let it all out myself.
I’d been so good about it for so long. I didn’t want to start again. But I needed it. It wouldn’t be as clean with a knife, though. Maybe I could go into the bathroom, grab a blade. But I didn’t think I could move, not even enough to grab the knife that was lying just a few steps away. I tried to breathe through it, to think about something else, anything that could keep me from drowning in this overwhelming storm of emotions.