Sold

It’s been nearly a month since Lillith had past away, and Justan hadn’t been with one woman since. Hell, he barely even left his room.

Matt had gone ballistic and nearly insane; when he found out he actually tried to kill himself. Daneese was distraught, always crying at the drop of a hat. And Tomas was finally put in jail. Justan just couldn’t do it this time; he had to tell on his father. When Tracie was killed, he kept quiet. When he beat the parents of the opposing kids so they’d give in, Justan kept his mouth shut. Even when Tomas killed Crystal, he didn’t breathe a word.

But killing Lillith was going too far. His dad said she was cheating on him! What an idiot! If he would’ve talked to her, actually asked her about it, he would have known the truth.

He tried to call, tried to apologize, but Justan refused it; just like he refused food, water, or sleep. Though eventually he had to take what was necessary; or at least what they forced on him; the food they forced and the water, even the sleeping pills they put into his meals.

He couldn’t live without her; and his necklace reminded him of that every day. Her bags that he kept reminded him, everyday. He even kept the little silver box that came with the jewelry.. Why? Because he wanted more. More of her; things she touched, anything.

He was so desperate even, that he refused to let Claireese clean the sheets they had made love on. He was going mad.

“Mr. Justan, you have a guest.” That butler always creped him out, he wasn’t sure why, but he did. Tell them to go the hell away. He wanted so bad to say, but didn’t; he knew Lillith wouldn’t want him to be rude, especially not on her account.

“Yeah, thanks.” He didn’t move, didn’t even try to wipe his tears away; he didn’t want company anyways, for Christ’s sake!

“Justan, who did it?” With a sigh, he turned over. There, in his doorway, Jareth was; blood shot eyes, that were just like his; dark bags under said eyes, just like his; his clothes getting loose on his thin body, just as his own were.

“Why would you care? It’s your damn fault anyways.”

Before he could react, or even dodge, Justan was being held onto the floor by his neck.

“I’m her father of course I care!” Jareth spat the word “course”, making dribble drop onto Justan’s face. His breath reeked of alcohol, and he smelt as if he hadn’t bathed in days.

“No. You abused her, you have no rights.”

“I still loved her.” He let up on Justan’s throat some with these words. Taking advantage of this, Justan shoved him off completely.

“Tomas did it.” He saw that Jareth was about to say something, so he interjected. “He saw her kissing Matt goodbye and figured that she was cheating on me, so he killed her.” Just like he killed her mother, your wife; your love. He quickly shoved those thoughts from his mind, not wanting to think that the two of them had any similarities what-so-ever.

“But how is it –“

“Your fault? Why, that’s easy; because you didn’t tell me the truth!” Justan’s fist came out and echoed as it popped against Jareth’s jaw. “Because you let everyone believe that bullshit about getting to choose!” A pop sounded throughout the room once again. Again and again, Justan’s fist pounded into his lover’s father’s face.

“You killed her! It’s all your fault!” He couldn’t stop himself, his fury was finally coming out.

“Justan! Stop it! Justan!” He faintly felt his mother try to confine him, so he ceased his thrashing; he didn’t want to hurt her more than she’d already been.

Jareth began to laugh while slowly standing up. He spoke through his busted lip, “You stupid boy,” he sounded as if cotton were wedged into his mouth, “it’s all your fault for not letting her just simply call like she’d asked you to.” Justan’s eyes widened before he realized it, he was right.

His eyes drooping, he fell limp in his mother’s arms.

Without another word, Jareth left the room. How he was going to cope with his daughter’s death, he wasn’t sure; though he wouldn’t doubt that he’d just done it by dropping the blame off on the boy. He was positive, though, that it was the boy’s fault for his father’s thoughts and actions. Justan also knew that he was right, it was his own fault, and he’d have to live with that for as long as he did live.

“It’s okay sweetheart, it’s not your fault.” She was wrong, she was and they both knew it. Not knowing what to do, Justan began to cry, followed by his mother. They just sat there for God knows how long, crying.

** One Year Later **

“Mom, what are you doing today?” Justan called up to his mom from the game room; the same room that started that wonderful night with Lillith.

“Nothing dear, why?”

“I just wanted to go see Lillith today.” The funeral was beautiful, nothing but the best for his beloved, and he stayed long after it was over; he just couldn’t let her go.

“Alright sweetheart. We should probably wish her a happy birthday as well.” Another reason he wanted to go. Her birthday was a week before; she was 17.

With a small smile, he got up and headed to his bedroom. While pulling his drawer open, something fell off the top of his dresser. Looking down, he saw a small box; odd.

Bending down to pick it up, he instantly recognized it. He couldn’t stop staring as the memories of that day flooded his brain. He shot up quickly, eyes wide as he saw Lillith, her hair matted, her body mangled with those stabs, cuts, and scars. He shook his head, dismissing the thoughts he’d hidden away so well, for so long. He’d resolved with himself that he wouldn’t think of her that way, she’d always be that beautiful young woman in his mind; not the bloodied, mangled corpse.

On his way to put the box back, his eyes caught on a small something on the floor. He quickly looked back at it, picking it up as well; a folded piece of paper.

As he opened it, he realized that he didn’t know the handwriting; though he did have a vague feeling he’d seen it once or twice before.

“My love,” it read, “I know this isn’t a very manly thing, but I wanted to show you just how much I love you.” His free hand shot up and held the necklace through his shirt, Lillith had written it, he was sure of it. He continued to read eagerly as his chest seemed to tighten at the thought of the words being written by her. “I have this feeling that something bad is going to happen soon. So just know, I love you,so muchwith all my heart no matter what,” he nearly laughed at how the paper creased where she’d crossed her words out, as if she thought they weren’t good enough, “If this bad thing is what I think it is, don’t mourn for too long. Find someone else. Please love. I don’t want you sad on my account. I love you so very much, Lillith.”

His eyes fixed onto her name. She knew she was going to die. A droplet hit the paper and he quickly wiped his eyes; he promised he wouldn’t cry anymore.

“Are you ready sweet – Oh? What is that?” His mother walked over and took the paper from his hands; reading over it. “Oh,” was all that she could say. She could tell too. Lillith knew she was going to die, yet still bought his dad’s lie about needing to buy a gift.

Without so much as a sniff, he grabbed the box back off the edge of the dresser, snatched the letter back from his mother, and left the room; Daneese on his heels.

She knew. She knew she was going to die, but still followed a complete stranger to wherever he wanted to go. He couldn’t get the thought from his head, no matter how hard he tried.

Getting into his car, he made sure to wait for his mom to get in before speeding out of the humongous driveway and down the deserted road.

The whole way to the cemetery, all of Justan’s thoughts were focused on how she knew. Once there though, his mind went blank. Quickly, he walked to her “section” and froze. There she was, the love of his life, right next to her mother; dead.

He could feel it as he put the box on the granite headstone, stuffed the letter in his pocket, and muttered “Happy Birthday”; it was time to let go and move on. He didn’t cry, didn’t even tear up, it was what she’d wanted. She wanted him to let go; and so that’s exactly what he did, for her.

And on the drive back home, he cracked a smile for the very first time since her death. Once your heart is sold, there are no refunds; and he knew that now.

So, even though he would never be with another woman, even though he’d stay alone unlike she’d wanted, he would be happy.

Because now he knew that she had sold her heart to him as well, and that was all he needed.