JOHN.
“Patience, just a little more patience,” I tell myself.
This is not good at all. I want her so much now. But not this time.
“I’ll wait until you fall asleep and then I’ll go to the living room.”
“Okay,” she replies.
Christina falls asleep quickly. She’s probably very tired, because she hasn’t recovered yet. I go out to the kitchen and close the door behind me. When I’m too excited or nervous, I smoke. This doesn’t always happen. I refuse from time to time, but at other times it calms me down and I come back again. Christina probably won’t like it. It’s okay, I won’t have to do it soon. She won’t refuse me, right? I finish blowing out smoke. There was some gum somewhere. I need to get rid of the smell. Having finished, I go to the couch. I need to try to sleep. And it’s difficult, the night is going to be long.
After a while, I finally fell asleep, but not for long.
“No, nooo,” I hear a quiet muttering, “don’t…”
I jump up and tiptoe to her, trying not to wake her.
“Please, Glenn... I... I…”
“Quiet, quiet, baby, wake up!”
I immediately climb onto the bed and carefully try to wake Chris. It looks like she’s having a nightmare. I put one hand under her head and reach for the bedside lamp with the other. The soft, muted light falls on her face. She’s crying? What did that idiot do to her?!
I’m here,” I wipe the tears from her face onto the pillow.
She opens her eyes and tries to pull away from me.
“Did you have a nightmare?” I ask.
“Everything’s fine,” she tries to lie.
“What did that bastard do to you?!” I’m about to burst out in anger, but I have to control myself.
“Leave me alone, please. Everything’s really fine…”
“But if everything’s fine, then why are you crying?! Did you have something with him?”
“No,” she says, but she looks away.
“When they find him, I’ll break his nose, or worse!”
“Don’t do it, please. Just leave it,” she says.
Why is she protecting him? Does she like him? Now I’m going to lose it and scream like crazy. I probably look scary because she’s trying to turn away and close herself off from me, but her leg is in the way.
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“Now,” I decide and kiss her sharply. Of course, I should have been more gentle, but I can’t right now.
CHRISTINA.
He must not know how Glenn abused me. I can live through it myself. Yes, I love John, I love him with all my heart, but who is he to know about my problems? I clearly angered him with my answers. But I do not want to apologize for it. There was no need to meddle in my personal space.
Suddenly he leans towards me, and our lips touch. Then he roughly sticks his tongue into my mouth, but I do not resist. It is as if my dream came true. Here he is not just somewhere nearby. I do not need to watch him from the side. I do not need to be upset or jealous of him. I close my eyes and surrender to the power of his skillful lips and arms hugging me. After a while, he pulls away.
“I’m sorry…”
No trace of anger remained on his face. Only calm. What changes? Did he just use me to shut me up?! It’s so vulgar.
“Go away, I don’t want to see you,” I say quietly. And he really does leave me alone without any objections.
You don’t deserve my suffering, nor my tears. From now on, I will treat you accordingly. I turn off the light and, covering my head with the blanket, fall asleep, with monotonous thoughts of the kiss that I replay over and over again.
There are no windows in the bedroom, so I can’t tell what time of day it is. I feel a little tired, although I definitely slept some. My crutches are nearby. I get up and slowly move to the bathroom. I need to wash my face. I turn on the cold water. It refreshes my face. I pat it dry with a terry towel. I look in the oval mirror. It seems my face has stretched out a little and has become yellowish. It lacked sun and fresh air. I hobble into the kitchen. There is a plate covering the toasts.
“Jam in the fridge,” the note says.
I take out the apricot jam. The teapot is barely warm, apparently John left recently. I warm it up. I pour fragrant tea with mint from the teapot. I look out the window. There are two potted flowers on the windowsill. They look fresh. Apparently John takes care of them. I hear an SMS arrive on my phone. But I’m in no hurry to go and check what’s there. I don’t want to get up now. Having finished breakfast, I head to the hallway to put on my coat. I want to go out onto the balcony. The crutch falls.
“Ugh, how awkward! Clumsy!” I scolded myself.
Bending over is very awkward. I plop down on the ottoman and somehow manage. Yes, this is not how I imagined my life at twenty-three. Okay, this is a stupid idea. I’ll better go check my drawing supplies. I hope nothing got lost along the way.
After sitting for a while, I get up and go to the living room. Everything seems to be in place in the drawers. The easel is already assembled. John obviously did his best. There is an empty shelf nearby. I need to lay everything out so that it is comfortable for me. When I finish, it is already getting dark. The streetlights will soon come on. But I don’t want to sleep yet. I need to do something. Besides, I wouldn’t mind eating something else. I’ll go to the bedroom and check the message. John left me his old phone, apparently. Well, yes, mine was broken in the accident.
“The bank card is in your bag. There was a little left, so I topped up the account for a week ahead. I went to see my father. I’ll be back tomorrow. You’ll find the number for the pizzeria in your contacts. Order something for yourself. I rarely cook. See you soon. Bye.”
Well, then I’ll just draw something. There’s absolutely nothing to do anyway. And I don’t see any books at his place. If John is reading, it’s probably electronic. I hobble into the living room again, this time with my phone in my pocket. I found the menu for the establishment on the Internet and ordered a light chicken soup and pizza with arugula. All that’s left to do is wait. In the meantime, I grab my sketchbook, a pencil, and just draw whatever comes to mind. This is how this familiar face is drawn. But it seems to be not quite perfect. I didn’t quite keep the proportions. And I mercilessly tear out the sheet. I draw another portrait from a different angle, but I don’t like it either. And again I tear out the sheet. And another lump lands on the sofa. I’ll try to draw another one after dinner. Maybe it will come out better.