Maybe You'll Be The One That Saves Me
Chapter 2: It All Surrounds Me, Kills Me Softly
Max’s point of view
Ronnie’s touch was so gentle; he was so careful not to hurt me than I already was as he tenderly cleaned my cuts before I felt his fingers prodding and feeling my bruise. I winced, closing my eyes and I could hear him utter an apology and then he sighed, pulling my shirt back down before turning back to look at me. His deep brown eyes met mine and I could see the smile forming on his face although it was sad…Did he pity me? I sure hoped not. One thing I hated was pity and sympathy, not that I ever got it but just saying…
Then he handed me the glass of water he brought and had set on the dresser and held out his hand to me. Inside were two, small, white pills. I gratefully took the Tylenol and downed it with the glass of water before offering him a thank you.
“Anytime, Max,” I heard him say with a smile.
I studied him; his long, black hair, his big, deep brown eyes that were swimming with a million emotions I couldn’t seem to make out as he gazed at me, his tattoos that were visible beneath his black wife beater... Then I was laying back down on his soft and all too comfortable bed, wincing a bit as I moved around until I could find a good position that wasn’t aggravating my bruise.
I watched him stand up and head to what I presumed was the spare room. Suddenly, I didn’t want to be alone…I needed him here; his presence, as I quickly came to realize, offered me safety. As long as I had him, I knew nothing could touch me so I softly called out, my voice taking on an almost desperate, pleading tone.
“Don’t go…please just stay with me…” I hated the way I sounded, pathetic, weak…
I watched him stop in his tracks and turn back to me, with a sad smile on his face…
“Of course.” And then he was moving to lay beside me on the bed. I immediately snuggled into his chest, burying my face in his warm, comforting scent. His arms went around me, gently pulling me close to him and whispering a soft goodnight and that was how I fell asleep…Hopefully, without nightmares for a change…Luck was not on my side tonight, though.
I hooked my bass to the amp and gently strummed the chords, but before I could even begin to play, my door slammed open, making me look up in surprise.
His face was so angry, livid almost. He must have been drinking or something. I could smell the alcohol.
“What are you doing, you little shit? How many times have I told you not to play that thing in my house!” My dad screamed at me.
I reluctantly put my bass away with a sigh, on its stand…But before I could do anything, my father grabbed me by the neck, roughly, before slamming my head against the wall…I gasped, seeing stars behind my vision, from the impact. He did it again, not letting up, and I whimpered, begging him to stop.
“Please no…no, dad, I’m sorry…please, I’ll be better. I’ll lose weight and do the dishes and make dinner on time…please, and I won't play anymore if it's what you want...”
My dad threw me on the floor, kicking me hard in the stomach and knocking the wind out of me. I would not cry, not show weakness in front of this man I was supposed to call my father.
As I closed my eyes, I felt someone shaking me, someone’s arms around me, whispering something soft and soothing in my ear…
“Max, you’re just dreaming. It’s ok, he won’t hurt you here, not while I’m around…”
Dad? I wondered, vaguely but it didn’t sound like him…I whimpered as I felt another blow to my stomach by his hard heel…
“Max, you’re just dreaming. It’s ok, he won’t hurt you here, not while I’m around.”
There it was; that gentle voice again. Ronnie…But I couldn’t seem to reach him; all I could feel were my dad’s kicks and my dad’s menacing voice and hateful words.
I struggled against the wave of nausea and depression and darkness threatening to overwhelm me…
“Max, you’re just dreaming. It’s ok, he won’t hurt you here, not while I’m around…” I felt his arms tighten around me.
I wrenched my eyes open only to be met with Ronnie’s tear-filled gaze. I searched for his hand and he automatically slid his long fingers through my own, squeezing my hand gently.
I felt sick, holding my stomach, wanting to spill my guts out…wanting to die… to end this misery, this never ending pain I constantly seemed to be in. I turned to meet Ronnie’s eyes again. He choked out a sob as he stared at me.
“Ronnie…I want to die…”
He looked at me, bewildered, looking torn. Then I felt my phone ring in my pocket. Pulling it out of my black skinny jeans, my eyes widened at the number…It was my dad, calling…I looked at the clock, 7:30AM….What could he possibly want…Oh right, I didn’t come home last night.
I desperately wanted to stay here with Ronnie in the comfort of his arms…but I knew I had to get home otherwise my dad would kill me and I really didn’t want to get into any more trouble…
“I-I have to go, Ronnie…I’m sorry…Thanks for everything and letting me stay and taking care of me…” I said, not looking at him and beginning to get up.
He grabbed my arm. “Please Max, stay with me…I don’t want you going home, just for a day. Stay with me. My dad won’t mind at all…” He reassured me with a gentle smile but I couldn’t do it…I pulled my arm away from him, ignoring the look of hurt that passed his face…and then I was leaving out the door and down the stairs, not looking back…
Ronnie’s touch was so gentle; he was so careful not to hurt me than I already was as he tenderly cleaned my cuts before I felt his fingers prodding and feeling my bruise. I winced, closing my eyes and I could hear him utter an apology and then he sighed, pulling my shirt back down before turning back to look at me. His deep brown eyes met mine and I could see the smile forming on his face although it was sad…Did he pity me? I sure hoped not. One thing I hated was pity and sympathy, not that I ever got it but just saying…
Then he handed me the glass of water he brought and had set on the dresser and held out his hand to me. Inside were two, small, white pills. I gratefully took the Tylenol and downed it with the glass of water before offering him a thank you.
“Anytime, Max,” I heard him say with a smile.
I studied him; his long, black hair, his big, deep brown eyes that were swimming with a million emotions I couldn’t seem to make out as he gazed at me, his tattoos that were visible beneath his black wife beater... Then I was laying back down on his soft and all too comfortable bed, wincing a bit as I moved around until I could find a good position that wasn’t aggravating my bruise.
I watched him stand up and head to what I presumed was the spare room. Suddenly, I didn’t want to be alone…I needed him here; his presence, as I quickly came to realize, offered me safety. As long as I had him, I knew nothing could touch me so I softly called out, my voice taking on an almost desperate, pleading tone.
“Don’t go…please just stay with me…” I hated the way I sounded, pathetic, weak…
I watched him stop in his tracks and turn back to me, with a sad smile on his face…
“Of course.” And then he was moving to lay beside me on the bed. I immediately snuggled into his chest, burying my face in his warm, comforting scent. His arms went around me, gently pulling me close to him and whispering a soft goodnight and that was how I fell asleep…Hopefully, without nightmares for a change…Luck was not on my side tonight, though.
I hooked my bass to the amp and gently strummed the chords, but before I could even begin to play, my door slammed open, making me look up in surprise.
His face was so angry, livid almost. He must have been drinking or something. I could smell the alcohol.
“What are you doing, you little shit? How many times have I told you not to play that thing in my house!” My dad screamed at me.
I reluctantly put my bass away with a sigh, on its stand…But before I could do anything, my father grabbed me by the neck, roughly, before slamming my head against the wall…I gasped, seeing stars behind my vision, from the impact. He did it again, not letting up, and I whimpered, begging him to stop.
“Please no…no, dad, I’m sorry…please, I’ll be better. I’ll lose weight and do the dishes and make dinner on time…please, and I won't play anymore if it's what you want...”
My dad threw me on the floor, kicking me hard in the stomach and knocking the wind out of me. I would not cry, not show weakness in front of this man I was supposed to call my father.
As I closed my eyes, I felt someone shaking me, someone’s arms around me, whispering something soft and soothing in my ear…
“Max, you’re just dreaming. It’s ok, he won’t hurt you here, not while I’m around…”
Dad? I wondered, vaguely but it didn’t sound like him…I whimpered as I felt another blow to my stomach by his hard heel…
“Max, you’re just dreaming. It’s ok, he won’t hurt you here, not while I’m around.”
There it was; that gentle voice again. Ronnie…But I couldn’t seem to reach him; all I could feel were my dad’s kicks and my dad’s menacing voice and hateful words.
I struggled against the wave of nausea and depression and darkness threatening to overwhelm me…
“Max, you’re just dreaming. It’s ok, he won’t hurt you here, not while I’m around…” I felt his arms tighten around me.
I wrenched my eyes open only to be met with Ronnie’s tear-filled gaze. I searched for his hand and he automatically slid his long fingers through my own, squeezing my hand gently.
I felt sick, holding my stomach, wanting to spill my guts out…wanting to die… to end this misery, this never ending pain I constantly seemed to be in. I turned to meet Ronnie’s eyes again. He choked out a sob as he stared at me.
“Ronnie…I want to die…”
He looked at me, bewildered, looking torn. Then I felt my phone ring in my pocket. Pulling it out of my black skinny jeans, my eyes widened at the number…It was my dad, calling…I looked at the clock, 7:30AM….What could he possibly want…Oh right, I didn’t come home last night.
I desperately wanted to stay here with Ronnie in the comfort of his arms…but I knew I had to get home otherwise my dad would kill me and I really didn’t want to get into any more trouble…
“I-I have to go, Ronnie…I’m sorry…Thanks for everything and letting me stay and taking care of me…” I said, not looking at him and beginning to get up.
He grabbed my arm. “Please Max, stay with me…I don’t want you going home, just for a day. Stay with me. My dad won’t mind at all…” He reassured me with a gentle smile but I couldn’t do it…I pulled my arm away from him, ignoring the look of hurt that passed his face…and then I was leaving out the door and down the stairs, not looking back…