Status: completed
Insidious.
A Few Weeks Ago Today
I can still hear her crying as I'm going down the steps, and I can still hear her when I'm pushing open the door to her apartment complex. Surprisingly, I don't care that shes sad or angry. I'm more pissed off than anything because frankly, I thought Rachel and I were more than just fuck buddies on Friday or Saturday or whatever night that was.
Nights like those, I never thought would happen.
I'm on the sidewalk now, and Rachel's tears are still in the back of my head. I think of going back and seeing if she's okay. Maybe staying a few hours longer and sorting things out. Maybe holding her close and telling her I'm sorry and everything is going to be okay. Just wait.
But I don't. Partially because I'm embarrassed and partially because I really just don't want to. I don't love her anymore, but I do.
There are two guys walking past me. One in a black over sized T-shit that says "Read my shirt" and the other is the guy who left his pants in Rachel's apartment. That dick from the party that night.
He looks at me, offers a satisfied smile, and continues on his way. I stand there and boil because I can't think of anything clever or mean to say. I don't even know what to do because in the end he has the best comeback.
Rachel chose him, not me.
I barely see them walk towards her building.
I don't care that they're moving towards her apartment.
And they're climbing the stairs, and banging on her front door.
I can hear one of them yell out "Open up, bitch!" from all the way down the block. It's that loud.
I stand there, dumbly, and wait for a sign to come. I wait for God or Buddha, or whoever it is to tell me to go and help her. I want to know that it's what she wants and nothing else. But she wanted him, so why am I standing here?
I'm just about to leave when I see her running through the glass door. She pushes through so hard, that she falls to her knees. I stand there and watch her scramble to her feet in that over sized shirt she has, and nothing else. It's sad really, seeing her like this.
I don't even think to help her. It doesn't even cross my mind.
She sees me standing there, and our eyes lock. For a moment, neither of us move. Then that guy from the party and his friend are back into view, and her boyfriend is saying something I can't hear. He looks mad.
Rachel runs towards me, screaming for me to help her. To do something, anything, to keep them away.
But I don't. Partially because my mind isn't straight and partially because I kind of don't want to. Partially because I'm just being an asshole like that.
"Zachary!"
She's at my feet, and her hair is all messed up, and she's crying, and her tears are mixing in with the snot and saliva that is running down her face. Her knees are all bruised and battered. She looks like shit, but she's beautiful because I love her.
"What?" I ask. "What?"
She looks behind her at her boyfriend and that other guy with the funny shirt who are walking towards us, and then back at me. Her face is confused.
"What do you mean, what?" She asks. "Help me, please."
Now, she sounds pathetic to me, and I don't even think that they're going to kill her. Maybe slap her around a little. I'm just the right amount of angry at her to let them slap her around.
"I'm sorry," I say. "But I have to go."
I'm turning around as they reach her, and I can hear her screaming as they drag her away. I don't listen as she's calling out my name and asking me to please, please, help her. She's saying that she loves me and she's sorry.
Nobody even looks out their window to see what's going on. Nobody even thinks to see if the crazy girl outside is okay. Nobody even wants to know who Zachary is or why those other guys are telling that bitch to shut up.
Nobody cares, and in the end that's what matters.
Nobody cares.
Nights like those, I never thought would happen.
I'm on the sidewalk now, and Rachel's tears are still in the back of my head. I think of going back and seeing if she's okay. Maybe staying a few hours longer and sorting things out. Maybe holding her close and telling her I'm sorry and everything is going to be okay. Just wait.
But I don't. Partially because I'm embarrassed and partially because I really just don't want to. I don't love her anymore, but I do.
There are two guys walking past me. One in a black over sized T-shit that says "Read my shirt" and the other is the guy who left his pants in Rachel's apartment. That dick from the party that night.
He looks at me, offers a satisfied smile, and continues on his way. I stand there and boil because I can't think of anything clever or mean to say. I don't even know what to do because in the end he has the best comeback.
Rachel chose him, not me.
I barely see them walk towards her building.
I don't care that they're moving towards her apartment.
And they're climbing the stairs, and banging on her front door.
I can hear one of them yell out "Open up, bitch!" from all the way down the block. It's that loud.
I stand there, dumbly, and wait for a sign to come. I wait for God or Buddha, or whoever it is to tell me to go and help her. I want to know that it's what she wants and nothing else. But she wanted him, so why am I standing here?
I'm just about to leave when I see her running through the glass door. She pushes through so hard, that she falls to her knees. I stand there and watch her scramble to her feet in that over sized shirt she has, and nothing else. It's sad really, seeing her like this.
I don't even think to help her. It doesn't even cross my mind.
She sees me standing there, and our eyes lock. For a moment, neither of us move. Then that guy from the party and his friend are back into view, and her boyfriend is saying something I can't hear. He looks mad.
Rachel runs towards me, screaming for me to help her. To do something, anything, to keep them away.
But I don't. Partially because my mind isn't straight and partially because I kind of don't want to. Partially because I'm just being an asshole like that.
"Zachary!"
She's at my feet, and her hair is all messed up, and she's crying, and her tears are mixing in with the snot and saliva that is running down her face. Her knees are all bruised and battered. She looks like shit, but she's beautiful because I love her.
"What?" I ask. "What?"
She looks behind her at her boyfriend and that other guy with the funny shirt who are walking towards us, and then back at me. Her face is confused.
"What do you mean, what?" She asks. "Help me, please."
Now, she sounds pathetic to me, and I don't even think that they're going to kill her. Maybe slap her around a little. I'm just the right amount of angry at her to let them slap her around.
"I'm sorry," I say. "But I have to go."
I'm turning around as they reach her, and I can hear her screaming as they drag her away. I don't listen as she's calling out my name and asking me to please, please, help her. She's saying that she loves me and she's sorry.
Nobody even looks out their window to see what's going on. Nobody even thinks to see if the crazy girl outside is okay. Nobody even wants to know who Zachary is or why those other guys are telling that bitch to shut up.
Nobody cares, and in the end that's what matters.
Nobody cares.
♠ ♠ ♠
I like this one, I think.