The Summer With Spencer
The Summer With Spencer, Chapter 22- Separation
Spencer’s POV
I had to get out. Tobias was going to find me standing up and untied if I didn’t hurry. Where was the door ? I can’t find it…. Tobias snuck up on me from behind, and I lashed out, I couldn’t let him win, I was already too far in, I had to fight with what I had. I pushed him against the wall, banging his head back onto the hard surface. A resounding thud ensued. I continued to hit him violently. A light was turned on now, exposing our struggle. Someone called my name loudly; I recognized that voice, it was Morgan. I blinked, startled. I was at home, in my own living room, surrounded by my team members. It had been Morgan who had called my name. Standing beside me was not Tobias Hankel, the unsub who had kidnapped me not long ago, but Llysa.
She touched my shoulder, and spoke some soothing words, trying to calm me. My anger bubbled up, unexpectant and uncontrollable, “What is wrong with you ? I hurt you. Stop trying to connect with me, stop trying to always be around me, holding my hand and taking baby steps. Stop patronizing me, stop hovering over me all the time, just stop. I’m a grown man, and I don’t need you, “I told her in a menacing voice. “ Get out.” “Get out of my house,” I hissed at her, my voice low but seething with anger. Her face distorted, and fat tears spilled from her wide eyes. She stomped away, right out the front door, but I didn’t feel relief when she left, only longing. Yearning for a do-over.
“Are you doing Dilaudid again ?” Almost everyone asked me at once. “No !” I assured them, I had been clean for thirteen months now. I had to explain to them that I was having a nightmare, and things got out of control. “I need to apologize, I need to make it alright,” I told them urgently. “She’s gonna need time,” JJ told me gently. “I just need to be alone right now,” I told my friends, realizing how true that was. I hurried upstairs to my room, sitting on my bed and burying my face in my hands. She hadn’t deserved that, just because I, a grown man, had had a bad dream. I sat on my bed, unmoving, wallowing in my sorrows for an extended period of time. My thoughts consumed me, all of them dark. I felt ready to burst with grief and pain over my actions. I needed relief, and I knew where to find it. I couldn’t hold off any longer, I knew what I had to do to prevent something worse from occurring. I opened my closet door silently, reaching up high for the plastic bag I knew was there. I retrieved it from the top of the closet. I pulled out the familiar clear bottle full of liquid that was clear as well, and the syringe. Taking a deep breath, I drew the liquid into the needle, and applied a tourniquet to my arm. I pushed the sharp needle into the soft skin of my tender forearm, amid the old scars. I injected the Dilaudid and felt almost immediately better. I removed the evidence and laid on my bed, letting the numbness consume me, relishing in its bliss.
Spencer wished he could say that if his friends hadn’t mentioned the Dilaudid, he wouldn’t have thought about it twice. But it was already his intention, as soon as he witnessed the sheer agony on Llysa’s face, pain he had caused. I awakened the next morning to find everyone else had gone fishing. They hadn’t wanted to wake me, and knew that I wouldn’t have been interested in accompanying them. For the first time in my life, I just wanted to just sleep all day. So that’s what I did.
I laid in my bed, unmoving, for hours, just thinking, Thinking about the pain I had inflicted on one of the few people close to me, someone who I valued very much. It could not get any worse than at this moment.
Llysa’s POV
I checked the clock after my crying session; 3:47am. I would never be able to sleep now, and I knew it. I had the sudden urge to channel my rage, so I went hunting for Eddie’s exercise equipment. It was all in the basement, a bench press, a chin-up bar, a treadmill, and a stair machine. Eddie was never light on cash, as you can gather. I changed into leggings and an athletic shirt, and tennis shoes. I started off by stretching, then the stair machine. The treadmill was my only other option, because my cast wasn’t off yet. I pushed myself faster and faster, channeling my rage into energy. The endorphins I released made me feel better, but only marginally. When I checked the time again, I realized I had been exercising for almost two hours ! I felt better though, and drew up a hot bubble bath. I suddenly discovered just how exhausted I was after all of that exertion, so I cut my bath short and changed into soft pajama pants and a loose shirt, climbing into bed. It dawned on me that from now on, I could work-out and slim down, and at the same time get a good-nights sleep. This could work, I thought to myself, drifting into a dreamless slumber.
I awakened early in the morning, and set to work cleaning my room. I had dusted, vacuumed, and fabric refreshed every inch of my room by 10:30. I should probably eat…I thought to myself. I wasn’t hungry, but with all the exercising I did, it was probably a good idea. I made myself a fried egg and some bacon, then washed the dishes and put them away. I decided to clean the kitchen next. By the end of the day, the entire house was spotless. I couldn’t believe I had spent an entire Saturday cleaning ! I decided to work out some more, eager to get my cast off so that I would be able to work my right arm out. I felt unusually drowsy around 9:00, so I headed upstairs to bed.
I was dreaming. I was back in that brown basement with my abductor, and he was beating me again. The sheer amount of pain was unbearable. This time, he had on a mask. He kept beating me and beating me, until I was near dead. Only then did he remove his mask to reveal himself; the man was Spencer.
I jolted awake, screaming. I clapped my hand over my mouth and listened. It appeared no one had heard me yelling, I was safe. I got up and started working out again, eager to exhaust myself so that I was able to get some peaceful rest. The days passed by much the same after that, with me keeping the house spotless, working out, and taking a long bath. I didn’t leave the house, and the blinds were always closed. What a shame to waste the summer that way, but there will be more summers, better summers, I promised myself. I fell into a routine of being my own sole caretaker. It felt like in older days, and it was a comforting familiarity. No one to answer to, no one to please but myself. I didn’t need anyone, I was fine on my own. I chuckled when I thought “I don’t need a man to make me happy.” On Thursday the 26th, I left the house to walk to the hospital, my cast was due to come off. I purposely took a longer route in the opposite direction to avoid anyone from next door. It was kind of crappy of them not to even make an apologetic gesture, not that I would accept it anyway. I pondered whether I was the issue in the situation. Had I overreacted when both Eddie and Spencer had yelled at me ? Sure, there words were harsh, but was I the one drawing out the fight, holding an unnecessary grudge ?
I had to get out. Tobias was going to find me standing up and untied if I didn’t hurry. Where was the door ? I can’t find it…. Tobias snuck up on me from behind, and I lashed out, I couldn’t let him win, I was already too far in, I had to fight with what I had. I pushed him against the wall, banging his head back onto the hard surface. A resounding thud ensued. I continued to hit him violently. A light was turned on now, exposing our struggle. Someone called my name loudly; I recognized that voice, it was Morgan. I blinked, startled. I was at home, in my own living room, surrounded by my team members. It had been Morgan who had called my name. Standing beside me was not Tobias Hankel, the unsub who had kidnapped me not long ago, but Llysa.
She touched my shoulder, and spoke some soothing words, trying to calm me. My anger bubbled up, unexpectant and uncontrollable, “What is wrong with you ? I hurt you. Stop trying to connect with me, stop trying to always be around me, holding my hand and taking baby steps. Stop patronizing me, stop hovering over me all the time, just stop. I’m a grown man, and I don’t need you, “I told her in a menacing voice. “ Get out.” “Get out of my house,” I hissed at her, my voice low but seething with anger. Her face distorted, and fat tears spilled from her wide eyes. She stomped away, right out the front door, but I didn’t feel relief when she left, only longing. Yearning for a do-over.
“Are you doing Dilaudid again ?” Almost everyone asked me at once. “No !” I assured them, I had been clean for thirteen months now. I had to explain to them that I was having a nightmare, and things got out of control. “I need to apologize, I need to make it alright,” I told them urgently. “She’s gonna need time,” JJ told me gently. “I just need to be alone right now,” I told my friends, realizing how true that was. I hurried upstairs to my room, sitting on my bed and burying my face in my hands. She hadn’t deserved that, just because I, a grown man, had had a bad dream. I sat on my bed, unmoving, wallowing in my sorrows for an extended period of time. My thoughts consumed me, all of them dark. I felt ready to burst with grief and pain over my actions. I needed relief, and I knew where to find it. I couldn’t hold off any longer, I knew what I had to do to prevent something worse from occurring. I opened my closet door silently, reaching up high for the plastic bag I knew was there. I retrieved it from the top of the closet. I pulled out the familiar clear bottle full of liquid that was clear as well, and the syringe. Taking a deep breath, I drew the liquid into the needle, and applied a tourniquet to my arm. I pushed the sharp needle into the soft skin of my tender forearm, amid the old scars. I injected the Dilaudid and felt almost immediately better. I removed the evidence and laid on my bed, letting the numbness consume me, relishing in its bliss.
Spencer wished he could say that if his friends hadn’t mentioned the Dilaudid, he wouldn’t have thought about it twice. But it was already his intention, as soon as he witnessed the sheer agony on Llysa’s face, pain he had caused. I awakened the next morning to find everyone else had gone fishing. They hadn’t wanted to wake me, and knew that I wouldn’t have been interested in accompanying them. For the first time in my life, I just wanted to just sleep all day. So that’s what I did.
I laid in my bed, unmoving, for hours, just thinking, Thinking about the pain I had inflicted on one of the few people close to me, someone who I valued very much. It could not get any worse than at this moment.
Llysa’s POV
I checked the clock after my crying session; 3:47am. I would never be able to sleep now, and I knew it. I had the sudden urge to channel my rage, so I went hunting for Eddie’s exercise equipment. It was all in the basement, a bench press, a chin-up bar, a treadmill, and a stair machine. Eddie was never light on cash, as you can gather. I changed into leggings and an athletic shirt, and tennis shoes. I started off by stretching, then the stair machine. The treadmill was my only other option, because my cast wasn’t off yet. I pushed myself faster and faster, channeling my rage into energy. The endorphins I released made me feel better, but only marginally. When I checked the time again, I realized I had been exercising for almost two hours ! I felt better though, and drew up a hot bubble bath. I suddenly discovered just how exhausted I was after all of that exertion, so I cut my bath short and changed into soft pajama pants and a loose shirt, climbing into bed. It dawned on me that from now on, I could work-out and slim down, and at the same time get a good-nights sleep. This could work, I thought to myself, drifting into a dreamless slumber.
I awakened early in the morning, and set to work cleaning my room. I had dusted, vacuumed, and fabric refreshed every inch of my room by 10:30. I should probably eat…I thought to myself. I wasn’t hungry, but with all the exercising I did, it was probably a good idea. I made myself a fried egg and some bacon, then washed the dishes and put them away. I decided to clean the kitchen next. By the end of the day, the entire house was spotless. I couldn’t believe I had spent an entire Saturday cleaning ! I decided to work out some more, eager to get my cast off so that I would be able to work my right arm out. I felt unusually drowsy around 9:00, so I headed upstairs to bed.
I was dreaming. I was back in that brown basement with my abductor, and he was beating me again. The sheer amount of pain was unbearable. This time, he had on a mask. He kept beating me and beating me, until I was near dead. Only then did he remove his mask to reveal himself; the man was Spencer.
I jolted awake, screaming. I clapped my hand over my mouth and listened. It appeared no one had heard me yelling, I was safe. I got up and started working out again, eager to exhaust myself so that I was able to get some peaceful rest. The days passed by much the same after that, with me keeping the house spotless, working out, and taking a long bath. I didn’t leave the house, and the blinds were always closed. What a shame to waste the summer that way, but there will be more summers, better summers, I promised myself. I fell into a routine of being my own sole caretaker. It felt like in older days, and it was a comforting familiarity. No one to answer to, no one to please but myself. I didn’t need anyone, I was fine on my own. I chuckled when I thought “I don’t need a man to make me happy.” On Thursday the 26th, I left the house to walk to the hospital, my cast was due to come off. I purposely took a longer route in the opposite direction to avoid anyone from next door. It was kind of crappy of them not to even make an apologetic gesture, not that I would accept it anyway. I pondered whether I was the issue in the situation. Had I overreacted when both Eddie and Spencer had yelled at me ? Sure, there words were harsh, but was I the one drawing out the fight, holding an unnecessary grudge ?