‹ Prequel: So New

Misconstrued

Chapter Four

I ignored most of what my doctor had to say. I already knew that something wasn’t right with my head and I didn’t want or need it confirmed by someone that wasn’t living that life. He wasn’t welcome in my mind. I’d told him that, which seemed to displease him; I knew this by the extra pills that were placed in my little plastic cup that evening. He didn’t get it. I felt so misconstrued. I’d never wanted to get high more in my life but something told me anything like that would be hard to come by in a place like this.

I could sort of accept the idea that I was going to be detained for a few weeks. Maybe months. My doctor told me it would depend how difficult I was going to make things for myself. He seemed to be under the impression that like a machine, I’d simply glitched. I’d reformat, restart and reboot a normal person and things would be peachy for me from that moment on. But people didn’t work like that. People like him were obsessed with hiding the cold, hard truth: some people just wanted to die.

I was kicking up the grass as I walked back to building C-1, AKA home, when something caught my attention. A girl, perhaps a few years younger than me, stood across the other side of the opening. Her eyes were closed as she looked up at the sky and seemed to be murmuring something. Ordinarily I might not have noticed her, except, she was completely naked. I realised I’d stopped walking and almost congratulated myself as I felt a twitch in my pants, something I hadn’t been able to achieve in a while without the help of alcohol. She opened her eyes, smiled across at me, and stayed like that until a nurse happened to notice her standing and me smiling back… well, let’s just say it didn’t look good. I was frowned at by the nurse as she half walked, half pushed me back to my room, locking the door as she left as if it had been me that had undressed the girl. I thought about that for a while; I imagined as I ran my hands over warm, pale skin, under clothing and over lace, into warm crevices and tangled them through hair. I thought about that for a long while. It had been a while since I’d been laid. I mean, properly fucked. It had been even longer since I’d been interested in the idea. There were always women laying themselves wide open for me and I would usually fall, drunk, into them, but that was as far as anything ever went. I never really felt it as it happened. My mind was never there with me. I realised I sort of missed that.
I ended up in the recreational room once I was finally let out of my room, scolded about being a pervert, and offered something lukewarm for dinner that had been blended together in the serving process to the point that I wasn’t sure what I’d really eaten in the end. It was getting late. I noticed there were less staff about the place and that they weren’t particularly observant if I was sitting still enough not to gain any attention. It was nice to have a little time to myself, in a way, even if there were other people in the room with me. My eyes wandered around the room to observe the few people in there with me. There was a nurse, engrossed in a magazine in the far corner of the room, an elderly man watching commercials on TV, and a woman sitting across from me, seemingly also surveying the people around her. Her eyes landed on mine and for a moment, we communicated. Just like that. She had told me she thought I was an okay guy with the slight hint of a smile on her lips, and I had told her she was wrong by looking away.

I kept my focus on the table as she kept staring, but it was becoming increasingly hard. I could see in my periphery that she appeared to only be wearing a dressing gown, which was slowly sliding down one of her arms to reveal her soft, pale flesh and, as she moved her arm to encourage the slipping, part of a pert nipple. I was starting to think her smile had meant something else entirely. The girls in this place really were insane, so it seemed.

My eyes had deceived me and I found myself looking and not at all trying to hide that fact. Her smile returned for a moment before she closed her eyes, running her hands slowly up her thighs which served to open her gown up enough to see her knees. I wondered how long she’d been in here to want this kind of attention, or maybe it was a disorder she had. An addiction. A fascination. A fantasy. My mind was going to all sorts of crazy places as I watched her sitting there, not doing anything and still having not said a word. I finally smiled back, kind of.

I was quiet as I pulled the sofa I was sitting on closer towards hers, my eyes darting to the nurse who had almost fallen asleep reading a magazine still in that same corner. They were soon back on the woman in front of me, on her eyes as they watched the movement of my hands onto her knees, slipping behind them to massage the back of her thighs. I pulled myself so I was sitting right on the edge of my seat, the thrill of the situation going straight to my crotch and expressing itself through my hands as they slid even further up that gown until my fingertips made the breath leave her lungs in one quick exhale. I almost stopped, afraid the noise would make people look, until she spread her legs a little further apart and slid to the end of the sofa she was sitting at. She closed her eyes and I felt her shiver as my fingers entered her, then again, and built up a regular pattern. Her hands were digging into my thighs as I fucked her until she was visibly shaking in front of me, her mouth opening and closing, threatening to make a sound. I pulled my fingers away and she snatched my hand, sucking on my fingertips. I could feel her tongue making little circles and it was giving me thoughts. Her hand on my thigh certainly wasn’t helping my situation.

“I’m Claire,” she finally spoke, giving me my hand back and placing hers back by her side. “It was lovely to meet you…”

“Gerard.”

“Mmm.” That was all she said before she got up and left me there, way too aroused and unable to get off. I might have killed her.