Forever

Pastor Terrance ran back into his office area of the church to retrieve a first aid kit and cool wet cloths. When he returned and opened it up, he pulled out all gauze wraps to treat their burns. To be honest, I wasn’t thinking much about why they happened at that moment. I was far more worried about Twitch in general.

“Do you want me to wrap that up for you, Father?” I asked politely, but I was internally anxious to go treat Twitch instead. His hand was far worse.

Of course, he saw right through me, as usual. “Child, don’t worry about me.” He handed me the bulk of the wraps, making sure to keep just enough for himself. “Go take care of him.”

“Thank you,” I bowed my head before spinning on my heels and sprinting outside. Scanning the parking lot, I found him about ten feet away standing on the sidewalk. By his stance he seemed unsure. I called to him as I approached and rested one hand on his arm and the other on his back, clutching the bandage and the wet cloth tightly so they wouldn’t fall. “Twitchy? What are you doing?”

Blinking, he slowly turned to look at me. To my dismay, he said nothing. His green eyes were sunken in and sad, the violet beneath them appearing numerous shades darker. Forgetting about my task, I reached up to gently graze my thumb over his cheekbone. Vibrant jade irises seemed to zone out into my blue as he appeared to gradually detach.

It was then I remembered his hand, which carelessly hung at his side. “Come on, let’s patch you up.” I led him over to the stone bench in the small garden along the church walls. As gingerly as I could, I picked up his hand to examine his palm once more. The sight was truly terrible. It looked beyond painful. “Oh, my baby,” I whispered, measuring the level of heat still scorching at his skin by hovering my fingers above the wound. Based on the temperature, I knew it would hurt him to put the cloth over, but it was the only way to cool it. Lifting the rag and holding his hand in the other, I spoke, “This might be a little painful, all right?” He nodded meekly. “One, two, three.” On the third count I laid the cloth on his palm, eliciting a sharp intake of breath and a slight whimper from him as it steamed for the second time. I’d never seen a burn do that, but then again, I’d not seen many burns in the first place. “I know, love, I know. I’m sorry.” His face gradually relaxed as the vapor diminished. “Doesn’t that feel better?”

He nodded, once again. He finally spoke after a long moment of silence. “Why aren’t you afraid of me?”

I frowned. “I have no reason to be afraid of you, Twitch.”

“Didn’t that bother you? I mean, I just…”

“Twitch, listen,” I looked into his eyes intently, “I know you’re not normal. In fact, I think it’s safe to say you’re not even human. A lot of girls would be frightened by that, but I’m far too in love with you for that to matter. I’m in too deep. I will always tend to your wounds, fearless as to why you got them. I don’t know why I feel this way because Lord knows I am the last person someone would expect to be indifferent about this . . . but you’ve really got me. You’re an addiction. You came to me all those years ago because it was God’s plan and I will never doubt His word or my love for you. I am yours and I will do whatever you need me to do, all right?”

A small, tired smile lightened his face just enough to show me my words meant something. At that point, I took off the rag and prepared the gauze. I applied it as softly as I could, a little distracted by his stare. I peeked up at him and I was taken aback by the amount of love in his eyes. It made my heart swell so that when I at last taped the wrap up, my only desire was to kiss him and prove that his affection was requited. Of course, I had no reason to resist and I craned my neck up to do just that. I knew I sucked at it, but I couldn’t help but fall to the intense temptation of his pretty lips. His mouth wasn’t tiny or anything, but it was almost delicate, the fullness of his lower lip making them appear slightly feminine. They were perfectly kissable.

If I’m to be completely open, however, there was one thing that bothered me every time I kissed him. After learning about all the women he’d been with, I couldn’t help but feel inadequate. Around him, I always felt that I didn’t measure up to some standard, but once I knew the levels he had set, I was hopeless. I so desperately wanted to be with him—physically, I mean—but as much as I pushed for it, I knew whatever I could give him would be nothing on what he’d already had.

Despite this awareness, I still appreciated how he leaned in further as I tried to pull away, so set on staying attached to me that I had to push him. I loved to kiss him, but I loved to just look at him, too. He was impossibly handsome and I was lingering in ecstasy from knowing that I could now put a face to the voice I loved so much. And unlike a moment prior, his eyes had the tiniest hint of a sparkle; a flicker in the darkness that they held and it lifted my heart to see it. Were it in my capability, I would ensure I never saw that look again. Nonetheless, the effervescence was only a twinkle and the look remained. As if to back up my thought he said, “I’m sorry.” The light trembled and burned out.

“Hush,” I replied, leaning back into the bench seat and pulling his cheek to my chest, where I contentedly stroked his slight waves. I kissed the crown of his head and he scooted closer to my side so that he could wrap one lazy arm around my hips. Because he was to my left, his bad hand was laying limp on my lap, which once again reminded me that he had an injury in the first place. “I’m assuming you probably don’t want to go to the hospital, right?”

He shook his head, presumably. The thing would probably heal soon enough based on what he’d…demonstrated earlier that day. It had horrified me, but only because he was hurting himself. Sure, the whole concept of him was sometimes unsettling, but his unusual characteristics were part of the package. It stressed me more to obsess over it all than it did to mildly acknowledge it. That’s not to say I would not be constantly trying to figure him out. That was a given. I just would not allow it to faze me. He seemed so lonely and so tragic that had it not been for me, I felt like the desolation I could still glimpse in his gaze would have defined him.

Of course, as a young girl, I could not have heard the dark undertones as he spoke. Yet, when I thought back to it, his voice always sounded just shy of monotone. Only that morning, in my dream, had I ever heard him carefree and content. It might be self-righteous to proclaim this, but it’s as if he was dead and I provided his life source. But what other option was there? His obsession with me was just as evident as mine for him. We hadn’t been together for even a day and it was that obvious. We thrived off of each other; we were dependent, addicted even. I had always told him so, but it was in this fact that I knew I’d accept him no matter what.

My left hand gently continued to comb at his hair, but my right had fallen to his cheek as he nuzzled into me. I could have held him forever. Having him so close was a dream, and the scenery only enhanced that. It was a classically beautiful day, birds chirping with the smell of spring drifting with the pollen as we sat in the small garden. The fragrance was the best part. The flowers mixed with Twitch’s constant aroma of cigarettes, mint and dull cologne was one of the scents I’d never stopped loving but forgot as the years passed after he left. It was odd being exposed to it again. It reminded me of the nights I would spend in his arms as we sat in our field talking about everything and anything at all. I could remember thinking that he’d never be attracted to me and that he would always be an idol to me due to his maturity. Lord, was I proven wrong. Not only did he clearly want me sexually, but at that moment, as he clung to me like an exhausted, broken child, I finally felt like he needed me.

Several minutes had passed before either of us spoke. Twitch was the one to break the silence, but it was almost too quiet to hear. “I love your heartbeat.”

“Then it’s yours to keep.” Just as hushed as his had been were the words that came out of my mouth, slightly embarrassed as I was as new as they come with relationships. My response was cheesy, but for some reason I felt that that was okay between us. Regardless, I wasn’t sure how much it took to overdose on cheddar.

Unenthusiastically, I lifted his head, meeting his sad eyes for the hundredth time. “We’d best go.” He blinked a few times and I stood, lifting him with me. “But first, we need to make sure Father will cover for us. We haven’t yet done what we set out to do here in the first place.” Drudging with each step, he followed as I led him to the front of the church. “Just…stay right here. I’ll be right back.” Slow and hesitant, I let go of his hand and turned, walking up the first two steps to the door. A gut instinct made me look back.

That action alone changed my perspective completely. What I saw was my newly proclaimed boyfriend, but he didn’t look like himself. Not that I was all that used to his appearance, but despite my earlier words, I felt fear bubble in my stomach. Of what exactly, I had not a clue other than the fact that much of it was not of him, but for him. He was self-destruction. I could see it in him as clear as day at that moment because I recognized that look as the same I faced for years every time I even glanced at the mirror.

Under the hot Louisiana sun, he remained shadowed like a ghost. His skin was as golden as ever, but it all looked sickly. Inarguably the most haunting aspect of the sight was his eyes, as always. They were truly neon; two eerie, glowing orbs that stared into my own, lifeless yet vibrant with emotion surrounded by his dark aura. The shame and self-hatred screamed in his gaze at a deafening level.

Suddenly, I asked, “Will you come in with me? It’ll be only a moment.”

But I knew he would shake his head, and he did. Hurriedly, partially due to worry for him and my growing anxiety in his presence, I bounded the steps as fast as my short legs could take me, nearly kicking the doors open.

It wasn’t a difficult task to find the man I was searching for. He sat slumped over in the front pew. “Father? I need to speak with you.”

“And I you,” he said, but it came out forced and scratchy. Upon nearing him, his labored breath became louder and I noticed how his body heaved with each gasp.

Kneeling before him, I could see the feverish look upon his face. A gasp escaped my lips as I saw the arm he cradled. The light burn on his palm had increased and spread up his skin a ways. It was like poison had seeped through his blood from the wound. “Oh my gosh, you look ill. We need to get you help.”

“No, no. I think I know what to do…yet I feel too weak.”

“Then what may I do?” I pleaded.

“Assist me to the altar.”

I had no idea what his motive was, but I lifted the pastor and allowed him to rest his body weight against mine as I led him to his destination. Getting up the steps was the hardest part, but we made it fine. I was sensitive on time, given that my boyfriend was outside in a very odd state, but I was much too worried for Father Terrance to brush this off.

Falling to his knees, he had no hesitation in beginning a low prayer in words I couldn’t understand. The language flowed from him like a desperate song until he began to shake and his voice rose. I was about to go to him when his speech halted and he sat up straight. My throat felt dry as I waited for him to speak. It seemed forever before he finally said, “It worked.”

“What did?”

Frustratingly, he didn’t answer my question. He merely told me, “You can’t be with him.” This took no doubts to his meaning. By his tone, the past events, and the lack of other options, I knew he was talking about Twitch. The tall man stood completely cured, as it appeared, and turned to look me dead in the eye. “He’s a dangerous man. He’s right when he said you weren’t safe with him. He’s no good for you.”

In response to his warnings, I couldn’t help but feel offended. It didn’t even matter to me that he’d just healed himself of a hideous wound inflicted by the object of discussion with nothing but a prayer. What right did he have? My Twitchy was perfect. Father Terrance recognized my feelings and continued. “You don’t understand his power, Marilyn. He’s a force stronger than me, stronger than anyone you’ll ever meet.”

“How do you know this? How could you possibly know a single thing about him other than what I’ve told you?” It hadn’t occurred to me that the recent event might have had something to do with his opinion, but even if I had thought of it, I’d still have been angry with him.

“Marilyn, I can’t explain to you why because you just wouldn’t understand, but I need you to trust-”

“Excuse me? How dare you even speak to me like that? I’m not a child! Maybe I’m not the most normal girl, but I cannot be called an idiot.”

“I wasn’t saying anything of the sort, I just-”

“Even if I was, I know my Twitchy loves me. It doesn’t take a genius to see it in the way he looks at me. It’s like—it’s like I’m some sort of diamond; a source of light in that dark mind of his.”

“So you see it, then? You can see his negativity?”

“Yes, but not so that I feel threatened by it! He needs me. Something is wrong and I truly believe I’m his only salvation,” The pastor tried to speak then but I cut him off, “And I’m happy to be because he is mine.”

“I don’t doubt this, but are you happy for the right reasons?” he paused to let me think. Before I could respond, he continued, “You’re not wrong when you say that his love is obvious. In fact, it’s almost suffocating. His presence is suppressive and obsessed. He’s going to hurt you. He could kill you, Marilyn.”

My response stunned us both; him by the sheer danger of it and I because it was pure truth. “It would be an honor to die by his hand.”

After he shook off the initial shock, he stuttered, “He’s going to corrupt your innocence. He’s demonic, child; he’s evil.”

“WHAT?” The hostility flowed from me in waves, the current’s weight alone drowning out my name forming on his lips. “I cannot believe you would say such words about the best thing that has ever happened to me, especially when you know how much I love him. He’s an angel. Also, I don’t know who you are to think you can control me. Perhaps you could before when I was weak and stupid, but now I see that was one of my biggest mistakes.” The next statement shot like venom; I could almost feel the acid on my tongue.. “You’re probably jealous, you sick freak. I’ll bet you were trying to get in my pants this entire time. You envy him because you know I love him so much that I’d let him have me right up against this altar, don’t you, Father Terrance? Is that why you don’t like him?”

He spoke no words of denial, but his eyes screamed in horror. I felt no regret at the time.

To my joy, the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard spoke behind me, “Is there a problem here?”

I spun to see Twitch, his sad appearance unchanged apart from the anger bubbling behind his eyes. “No, baby, we’re just about to leave. Come here, would you?”

He obeyed hesitantly, but soon stood right beside me. I roughly grabbed his face and pulled him down to lay a messy kiss on his lips. Despite his uncomfortable state, he responded just the way I wanted him to, and his hand dipped down to my bottom casually as his other arm wrapped around my torso to lift me up on my tip-toes. I had a feeling he knew I was trying to offend the pastor, and perhaps that’s why he disregarded his depression, given that a vendetta against him wouldn’t be without reason.

He cracked a smile when I pulled away, a genuine one that lifted the intensity that settled between us in the past half-hour. “Let’s go,” I said, shooting the pastor one more sharp glance and stalking out with an amused Twitch in tow.

“What was that all about?”

“He was saying bad and untrue things about you, so I got angry,” I squeezed his hand. “He had the nerve to say you were evil. He actually said you were demonic. I couldn’t stand for that. My view of him totally changed…How dare he, Twitch? I just don’t get it!” I looked to him, noticing an uncomfortable shift in his step and expression. That was a pretty offensive claim and I didn’t blame him for being uneasy about it. “He says I shouldn’t be with you because you’re ‘too powerful’ or something asinine like that. It just really upsets me that I don’t have his support.”

At this, Twitch stopped up to grab my shoulders and pull me into him. “Babygirl, I don’t know how many times I’ve said it, but nobody will ever understand us. I’m never going to hurt you and in no way am I ‘too powerful’ to be with you,” he hesitated, “I’m dangerous, and I left because of this, but I could never really hurt you. Well maybe a couple bruises in bed,” he mumbled the last part and I laughed, pulling away enough to see his face, "but that’s it." I didn't get where the bruises would come from, but I'd have to ask him later. "I'll never lay a hand on you, let alone kill you. I don't fucking understand where he even got the idea."

"I told him I thought he was upset because I was willing to give myself to you and not him," Twitch grinned cheekily. "I really doubt that statement after leaving the building, but I don't have any remorse over saying it. He deserves that after what he said about you."

"Yeah, I don't know about that," he chuckled, "but it's fucking funny."

I reciprocated before smiling sweetly, "You know he said he can see how much you love me."

"He'd better have!" Twitch feigned sassiness and sighed dramatically."That's it. He is jealous because what we have is more than anything he’ll ever feel since he's a fucking chaste holy man. He’s just envious. Shit, I’ll bet our bond is stronger than his is with God.”

I chuckled at this. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” he said and kissed my lips lightly, “You’re my fucking religion.”

“Shush it, you. Give me the keys.” I held out my hand.

“No way, dollface. I already told you I’m driving.”

“Um, dork, did you forget you had a burnt hand?” He began to tell me he could steer without it, but I disregarded his attempts to sway me. “I’m not leaving this spot until I have keys in my hand.”

With a roll of his eyes after an intense stare down, he dropped the desired objects on my palm. I grinned and thanked him.

Once in my car again, the question of what to do next remained. An idea burst into my head. “Have you ever been to a fair?”