Will You Into My Will (Chapter 69)

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There is that sound again, in a tempo, almost like a  clock work, beating against his chest. Lub Dub. Lub Dub. Lub Dub. Its compelling. Like a shamanic music resonating against my ears to my mind, calming me down.

And there is that touch again, filled with need to  possess me, own me in a compassion that blinds my cautious soul. Sensitive, my skin traces his hands to the pulp of his pressure points, his fingers digging in my flesh against his palms, as he burrows himself in me  and moans.

‘Carem, Carem’. Rose wakes me up, slapping her chubby hands on my face. ‘Momma. Momma’.  She points curling her stubby fingers and pointing towards the door. I rub my eyes, sitting up. ‘What was i doing, having wet dreams on board day light, on a kitchen garden next to 1yr old kid?.  I am utterly ashamed.

These are the times, I am really angry.  Him entering my mind without control.  At myself for allowing it  to happen and on him, for screwing my life up.

‘She is a little gangster’. Aunt Marish chuckles, handing me a glass of juice and  picking up Rose on her arms. ‘Yeah she is. She probably would have left me with panda eyes if i hadn’t woke up’.

‘Bad girl. Why did you hit Auntie? ‘. She asks, pointing her forefinger on her little daughter, appearing stern. ‘Ah hah’ Rose squeals in pure pleasure, hiding her face away from us, overjoyed at being centre of attention.

Someone coughs. Across the fence. Again. And again distressingly, with more bouts of poor effort  in a row. I stand up to look over.

‘Ah poor Ross’ Aunt Marish sighs. ‘Why don’t you go over and say hello Carem. He will be very glad to see you’.

I stare over pityingly to  the man. In his 60’s,  slumped on a wooden chair, with a thin rubber tube running across his nostrils connected to a small portable oxygen cylinder, Ross’ did not look at all like a man i used to know. He was tall, not athletic built as such but quite a fit man. Always vibrant, full of energy and life. But now, it looked to me as though, life has been sucked out of him and all that has been left behind, is an empty case of emaciating muscles, shallow eyes and hollow bones.

‘Hello Ross’ I prod him gently on his shoulder.

‘What?’ Ross flinches scared , suddenly awake from his sleep. His expression horrified seeing a stranger stand upfront on his house.

‘Its Carem. Marish’s cousin’. I reply, trying to calm him down. ‘Carem. Remember me?’

‘Oh. Oh Carem’. He narrows his brows, looking intently at me, his hand pulled across his face, fingers drawn together on his lips, trying to think. His eyelids twitching now and then, still sedated with lorazepam, a file of which is thrown aside.

His eyes lightens up, when he remembers. ‘Oh Carem’. He exclaims with a  delightful smile.

‘Look at you. You are a woman now.. How long has it been?’

‘3 years’. I reply.

‘That long huh?’.  He makes a sad expression. ‘Ever since i have been like this, i cannot travel you see.  How are your parents?’

Good’.

I raise my voice to a   louder tone,  almost like shouting in  single word answers. He adjusts his hearing aid and nods.

‘Do you still have the budgie at home?’ I ask.

‘Yes.’

‘Aunt Marish says to me, you are allergic to budgies. So its not good for your health’. 

‘We tested it. It does not have any disease’ He answers calmly. ‘Tell Marish not to worry’. 

Of course the budgie does not have any disease. You have the disease because you are allergic to it’. I try to explain.

Ross has Hypersensitivity Pneumonitis. My aunt is a nurse at the district hospital, where these past three months alone he had been admitted twice, with severe worsening of his condition. This was because he was allergic to birds feathers or droppings. They had done some test on him, with avian para proteins that was positive. It has been four years years since the diagnosis now and in that time, Mrs Jones and Ross has had 3 sessions of one hour counselling with three different consultants. But the damn Budgie still prevails!!

‘Its either your husband or the your budgie. Thats what the consultant told her’. Aunt Marish confided to me that morning frowning. ‘She really doesn’t care about Ross’. 

I saw a moment of sadness cloud in his eyes. ‘It talks you see’. 

‘And it calls everyone by name. Its actually very smart. But it calls me stupid’. 

Doctors  think Ross doesn’t understand what is going on. Same does aunt Marish. They don’t think he knows, how dangerous it is to be in this house, with a bird in a vicinity and to be in the same bed with a wife who is constantly exposed to it. But i think, Ross exactly knows the situation. He knows this will cost him his life.

‘Are you okay? ‘ Aunt Marish squeezes my hand when she sees me playing with the remote, switching on channels to channels constantly.

‘Oh i’m sorry’. I apologise. ‘Its just that i can’t help thinking about Ross. He is really very unwell. Is there nothing anyone can do to help?’

‘I know hon. It is  frustrating to know all this. And we have raised safe guarding concerns. But thats the best we can do for now.’

‘Then why is nothing happening?’

‘It takes time. ‘ Aunt Marish tries to calm me down. ‘Beside Ross not doing anything about it, not understanding the main problem isn’t helping’.

‘But he is not on his right mind Aunt Marish. He knows Mrs Jones would rather choose the budgie over him, but he is on denial. He needs mental health team, psychiatrists whatever anyone who can help him to see him’

‘Carem. Carem. Look at me dear.’ ‘Take a long breath.’ ‘Yes. Take a long breath’. 

I inhale. Then exhale a long breath of air, deflating all that i could from my chest in one go.

‘Its his choice’. Aunt Marish continues.  ‘Its his life. Whether he is prepared to be smart or fool about it, in the end we cannot control his decisions’.  

‘Yes he could be on denial. Many times, people are comfortable avoiding truth. Especially in relations like this, where a partner is emotionally abusive. Manipulative. They cannot see their way out. Everything that happens. They are willing to face. What may seem like a obvious easy way out for us, may not be for them. We are not in that box. He needs to come out of it. It will be a struggle. And if he can’t make it….’

‘lets just hope the budgie doesn’t live a year more. That shit is fucking 9 years old!’. 

I gape my mouth open.

Its not often i hear Aunt Marish swear. Especially in front of her 1 and half year old daughter, who is just learning to pick up the words.

‘You did not hear what i said’. She plugs both ears of her daughter and looks at me, smiling halfheartedly.

 

Is it that love is blind? Or is it our ignorance for truth that is blind? What makes us love anyone more than us and what makes us hate them to their death grave? Why do not people have a fair share of what they deserve? Why is the balance so unjustly tilted? Is it really love that is blind or our ignorance? 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Will You Into My Will (Chapter 68)

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I cannot bear Brandon ignoring me on the school. Passing on the hallways without meeting my eyes, skipping on lunches just to avoid me and now, even on our favourite  sub when we always pair up together he is sitting 10 desks away from me.

I am on the first bench.

It is impossible for me to get his glimpse, without Mr Smith noticing me turn around my head 180 degree back and  him croaking ‘Carem!!!’ on his peculiar high pitch  voice. Freddy Kreuger was a lesser threat.   Bulging eyes on thin contoured cheeks,  long crooked fingers, add to that his nasty temper; it was everyones nightmare come to life.

We are reading ‘ Theory of Evolution by Natural selection’ today. ‘Charles Darwin’ is peeping on me from my book. Beside him are some picture of strange looking birds. ‘Finches’ Mr Smith says.  ‘Observing these birds, their beak sizes and food habit, Darwin was later able to postulate natural selection  theory. ‘

‘Interesting.’

‘How bored and lonesome must he be to have noticed  the size of a beak on birds like that? And devising his own theory??  The number of hours he must have spent looking at them?’

Thats what i am thinking. Aunt Marish says,  i have unusual  way of perceiving information.  That my thought process is fascinating. I just wonder, if she too thinks i am a deviant. May be that is  what she means, when she says she worries about me.  That one day i will go haywire. I wouldn’t be surprised myself.

‘Pay attention Maxton!’. Mr Smith croaks again on the background. I ignore him.

This funny looking old man, a gardener, with strange fetish for birds and plants.  Weirdo became a genius. Great! End of story! When does this get over.’ I yawn looking at the clock.

‘He stated that it is not the strongest species or the most intelligent species that survives but the one that adapts most’. Mr Smith continues.

‘Adaptation means change in behaviour/ physiology and structure of organism to become more suited to environment’.

‘Example Brandon. Changing his behaviour- acting like i don’t exist,  physiology- went from needy to don’t need you’ on just 2 days and structure- sinking down the chair so that i don’t see him.’  I frown on my own.

‘These traits that help them to survive will be preserved over long run on their species simply because they will breed more. That is natural selection’. 

‘Over many generation  the process of selection then will create a entire new genera of species from original ancestors. Like gibbon, apes and chimps to humans. ‘

I have had enough.

As soon  the school was done, i was packing my bag to leave for Cornwall. In the world with rule of ‘Survival of the fittest’, where people adapt so well like chameleons i had no place.

I felt alone.


 

 

Seeing Aunt Marish after so long brought some joy back to my heart.

Despite our age differences, we were like best friends. We shared everything from  pep talks to serious deep conversations.

‘You are  alike’. Mom always commented when she saw us together. And for some strange reasons it always made me happy to hear that.

‘Come here Rose’. I call my 1 and half year old cousin to my arms.

She doesn’t. It has been a while since i have seen her. She has completely forgotten me.

‘Aww..’ i sigh.

‘She will remember you. Don’t worry..’ Aunt Marish assures me.

That reminds me how much i have missed her. And talking to her. I could have really used a friend. All this time.

‘Rose’ she calls. Little chubby cherub lifts her head, looks at her direction, casts away the tangled  rope she had been trying to figure out and runs. ‘Mama!’ she screams.

I stare in awe, about to break in tears.

Perhaps this is what changed her. After all these years. Perhaps this is where she found happiness. Solace for heart. In Rose.

Its beautiful. The bond between a mother and a child.  To see  her run to her mom with so much affection, with no second thoughts, no questions asked, just with pure delight,  so sure in herself that she  was going to be there to hold her…

When did we stop loving anyone like that? What changed? When did I’ stop loving anyone like that?

 

 

Will You Into My Will (chapter-67)

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‘Hey. What happened?’ I speak,  once i stood next to Brandon.

He looks at me, then away to the ground.  Muddled.

Still lost.

His eyes lids are half pulled down, pupils  contracted, reflecting light dimly with only dusky hue of lime  on the background. His lashes are clumped together  on lower margins and there are  blotchy stains marked against his light skin where he must have rubbed his hand.

‘Brandon’ i call  again.  This time squeezing his arm.

‘Don’t’. Brandon pulls away from me. ‘Don’t’.  He repeats.

I freeze. Did i expect this? Did i not know it coming?

I know’ he says.   ‘I know’.

I stand still.  He picks up his gaze and fixes them pointedly to my eyes. ‘How long were you planning to not tell me?’ 

His tone. It wasn’t loud, he was not shouting. Brandon is loud when he is angry. I have seen  him be angry. A number of times with James. He can shout. But, he wasn’t loud with me.

He was restraining it. His voice was resonating with rage. Tightly sealed on his lips.

I turn away from him. I could not answer this.

‘Turn around’. 

Brandon speaks again. More assertive this time.  Against his clenched teeth.

 

‘Carem, turn around!!’.  He snaps with anger when i don’t respond.

I jump with fright at a safe distance away from him. This wasn’t him. Brandon wasn’t Will.

‘You slutty bitch. Do you now how much it hurts?’.

He breaks in tears now.

Still unsure of how i should be behaving, I stare at him, at odd display of his emotions. I am still on denial that truth had come out.  That Brandon knows. My mind is still processing.

‘How would you know? You are heartless’. 

‘And i thought, things could change…’.

 

He laughs then. On his own. Wipes his eyes roughly with his palms and sits down on the ground.

Extending his legs and stretching his elbows on back for support, he questions, looking up and at me,  ‘Is he that good?’

‘Come on. i am listening Carem. You need to give some answers’.  

I still don’t reply. What am i supposed to say?

‘Carem. Answers’ he insists.

‘I am in love with him’. I reply, in faintest voice i could produce.

‘Love. Did you say love?’. Brandon repeats, in a louder tone.  He chuckles unpleasantly with a half drawn smile at the idea of it, then hisses, ‘Don’t joke with me’.

‘That’s the truth’. I reply.

‘Its not the truth.’ He strongly disagrees.

‘He is twice the age as you. He is married, unfaithful and using you for sex. Don’t tell me your standards are so low that you are in love with a man of that category’. 

‘He is not married’. 

‘Carem!’ He gets up abruptly from  where he was sitting and walks towards me.

‘You had sex with him. It was good. You think its love.’

He affirms it again, pressing his both hands against  both my arms. ‘It was good and you think its love’. 

‘Its not about sex Brandon! I love him! I loved him way before i started seeing you!’ I scream now, pushing his hands away. He had crossed the limits. Nobody tells me, my love is adulterated. Not even him.

‘Have sex with me. And i will show you a good time’. Brandon steps in still, forcefully kissing me.

What are you doing?’. I push him back.

‘He is a wrong man.’ He replies, wiping his lips. ‘I thought you had come back to me this time for real’. 

I am sorry..’ I stammer, realising i had hurt him.

‘Don’t move’. He holds up the arm half way between us on air, straightening the palm  up.

Stop. Carem. No more. ‘

He crouches down on the ground, pulling his head in between elbows, resting on his knees then. ‘James had seen you with that guy. He told me, he didn’t trust you’. 

‘I saw you two kissing. I know, where you disappeared for 12 days’. 

‘You thought i didn’t know… I knew everything even before Mia told me’. 

But i love you..’ he sobs, pulling tight his hair.  ‘I thought you’d be through him. I hoped you’d be. And we could fall in love over again. 

 

 

I slump down.  How foolish is Brandon to be in love with me? A girl like me? A cheat. A liar. How could he let me tag him along? Why would he do that to himself? 

‘I am sorry Brandon.’

My throat lumps with pain as i say that. ‘I know Will is a wrong man. He is unfaithful. Selfish. Mean and fickle. But i can’t help it. I love him. So much. Do You know how that feels?’.  I begin to wail. I was never  getting over this overpowering feeling of control he  had on me.

‘It hurts.’ He replies gazing at me. ‘You are unfaithful, selfish, mean and fickle. But i can’t help it.’

We sit there, two fools, sobbing peering at each other  at an arm distance.

Love was fickle.  At least for us.

The light of his eyes grew dimmer as i watched him. If there was a switch off button to feelings, i could use, i wouldn’t  have thought twice to do that for him. But i cannot. 

All i can do is pray. To pray for Brandon to find love. A true love. If there was any. Even if it meant giving my share. And so much happiness, that his emerald pair of eyes always glowed brighter than these stars that are staring at us now, from a world so far away, where perhaps every one are happy and have their perfect-forever-together. 

 

 

 

 

Will You Into My Will. (Chapter 64)

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I wish it never ends. But good things come to an end sooner or later. Why does it have to be like this?

Could’t we have met at some other place at some other time in a different setup? We could have been farmers, living at the foot ends of green hills, miles and miles away from here and i would have been happy. I know i would.  I could have washed for him, cooked and cleaned and when he came back at dawn, exhausted after ploughing the field like a good wife would, i would have sat by  him, pressed his shoulders and eased his aching joints. I would have bore him 5-6 children, all beautiful well and healthy, running around the house like cats and dogs  and mice, boiling our temples, disturbing our peace. But, nothing would have mattered because we’d still have been despite all our limitations, a big happy family.

‘Snap out of it Carem!’ The witch hisses inside my bony vault.

Are you even aware of what you are thinking? Farmers?? You can’t even grow a plant in a pot. And that is, even if you were given a healthiest breed of plant, fertiliser along with it and a instruction written on paper of how to specifically take care of it.’

‘And, what about studies? I suppose you thought Will would take care of you all your life and you would never have to work? What if he gets another wife and you have to feed your half a team of football players all by yourself? Are you prepared to do the dishes?’

I  lie on my bed disturbed, all alone, thrown off by my own voice inside my head.

Sometimes i think, there is another person residing in me, trying to take over.. to take control of my actions.  As if i am divided. I am two different people in one body. And every thought i have about Will,  she is against it. She glares me with a warning, shames me with guilt and questions me on my sanity.

 

It has been a week now since we came back. As usual i haven’t heard anything from my so called lover. His existence has once again faded away.  He is a ghost again, with no one to miss him except me.

I thought things would change, i was sure they would, i genuinely hoped so but they haven’t.  Once again, my reality seems obscure.. What happened and what did not, i do not know.

I toss in my bed, throwing the blankets on the floor, closing  my eyes shut. But sleep does not come easy. How many times have i done that? How many times have i told myself that this would change? How many times..

I  see him. Beautiful and bare. I can feel him, his hand on my skin caressing my back, his fingers tips  on my hair and his lips on mine.

Its unbearable.  The distance between us. The words we don’t speak. The time, we don’t spend together. Its shattering. The painful realisation.  The commas on our stories, the infinity chains of our full stops that doesn’t end in one. The uncertainty of our ending, is killing me slowly.

 

 

Don’t be like this Carem!’ Mia barges in, kicking open my door. ‘Enough is enough! How long are you going to stay in sulking?’

‘Go away...’ I cry, hiding my face. ‘I don’t want to do anything’.

Come on! You’ve got to wake up. Its been a week since you have not stepped a foot out. You promised me yesterday you would go bowling with us. And Brandon will be there.’

No. And don’t kick the door.’

‘I thought you locked it again. Sorry. Carem please. You know you owe an apology to Brandon, you vanished without saying anything and you promised  you’d call him when you get back but you didn’t too. And now if you don’t show up he will think its because he did something. He is already tensed about the situation.’

‘Mia? Do you hate me?’ I make a quick flip from my bed, sitting upright and pressing the question, ignoring Brandon talk.

Mia looks confusingly at me. I stare at her right between her eyes. I needed to hear an answer.

No’ she says, knowing there was no get away without  a reply. ‘I know you can be a bitch and a cheat but you are still my best friend. And look at you, you are miserable’

I laugh, flooding the tears down my eyes. Even a stranger would have agreed to her remark. ‘I am miserable. Amn’t i?’ She nods her head.

‘I am sorry Mia, I said you things i shouldn’t have. I’m sorry about Brandon and I am sorry about your phone too’. 

‘Yeah. About that, it seems like they can’t repair it. And I will be better off with new one.’   Mia shows me off her i-phone with smashed screen on the front. ‘ You really took all your anger on it. Didn’t you? Anyways for now it still works fine’. She re-assures me.

‘ I am sorry about your hair too.‘ She apologises.

‘Ah well. Just a patch of baldness on my back. That’s all.’ I laugh, forgiving her instantly.

 

When we reached  the sports centre our guys were already there. ‘Hello ladies!’ Brandon greets us with a wave from far. When we reach closer, he tosses the ball on the floor and comes running to me stretching his arms. Then he hauls himself over, squeezing me on his chest. ‘Cam i missed you!!’ He squeals.

‘Hey Romeo give her some space to breathe at least ‘. I hear James behind him.

‘Yeah can’t breathe..’ I squeak underneath. My cheek placed flat on his chest and face covered with his jacket. Hearing that, Brandon releases me immediately. We all laugh.

‘Didn’t think she was gonna die. Did you?’ James jokes, putting his arm around Mia. ‘You’ve gotta be gentle with ladies’. His usual odd remark.

 

Well, I guess some things are unchanged better. You have a place of comfort that way.  To relax. To heal. To think over your own changing  process to adapt, so when the time comes you are ready.  Inside and out.  

 

 

Will You Into My Will (Chapter 62)

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A sickening taste of stomach acid, regurgitating up my throat wakes me up. Feeling nauseous, i hurl past Will, who had somehow managed to creep beside me on the bed, to the bathroom, covering my mouth tightly with fingers. Once beside the pan, i kneel down to vomit the contents out. All that i had stuffed down my pipe in past 6-8 hours. Needless to say being a stress eater, it was a lot.

My stomach does one last painful flick to propel the final remains of food, before it rests still, leaving behind the bitter horrendous unpleasant taste of bile, lurking on back of my tongue. Exhausted i push myself to the sink, to rinse my mouth, hoping it would wash away the awful taste.

It doesn’t.

So i pick up my toothbrush and paste, and squat on the cold tiles ready to brush. The warm rays from afternoon August sun, warms my feet, looming in from the half open window. Tempted by the fresh breeze, i walk to it, opening myself to the spectacular view of highlands that now I was getting so accustomed to. But, no matter how many times i looked, the beauty of greenery and hills never seem to cease bringing joy to my heart.

I will miss this’. I sigh, turning my eyes away, to walk back to the sink to gargle my mouth. That’s when i realise, it was afternoon. ‘Afternoon! My alarm was at 6. I had to board my train at 10!’

I jostle back to my room. The numerical on  my screen showed 12.40 pm. There was no alarm.

I had set it for 5am. Then later changed it to 6am. I am sure.

Infuriated now, my fingers trembling with fury i could barely bottle up, i stare at Will; slowly picking up my pillow lying next to him, i relish at the thought ‘This will solve all my problems..’ 

Of course, i could not. I am crazy, but not a murderer.

I call him names then. And muttering all sorts of curse  words  i could think of, i stomp back to the bathroom, picking  a towel on my way.

I didn’t have  a clue, i knew so many. Had my parents known they would’ve grounded me and devised some purification ritual to cleanse me of my filthy mouth. But, i am not even a virgin anymore.

I step in the shower.

As the drizzles hit my skin, vapours leave my body forming a mist. The water was cold. Really, really cold. I felt like a hot iron rod immersed in a bucket full of ice.

Gradually, i was calming down. The shower was bringing my temperature back to the set point and then below, further below, until the droplets felt like sharp ice picks on my skin.

Quickly draping around the towel on my body, i jump off to the bed, stopping only a few seconds to turn the heater on , in between. Once inside the bed, i pull all the blanket to my end rolling myself over it like a wrap. ‘His fault’ i mumble, seeing Will’s blanket lying on the floor next to sofa.

Past 5 minutes, and i still lie clattering my teeth. The water was too cold. The heater was not working and i did not have any guts to get to kitchen to fetch myself something warm.  Unwillingly i wriggle in my bundle, adjust my position again, so that only my eyes and nose were exposed now, to see and to breathe.

Unable to fall back to sleep, I appease my eyes, watching  Will. Looking at his chest and belly, do up and down movement as he respired, inflating and deflating the lungs.

‘He is a beautiful man. No doubt. And i am attracted to him like a moth to flame.’

Guiltily, angrily, compassionately, I don’t know. I was still staring at him for minutes and more minutes, till those, added up to become half an hour.

I snuggle closer to him this time, still shivering. More and more till, my forehead touched his cheek and my nose pressed on his jaw. The principle of conduction is an amazing thing. My face was warm in no time. Like metal grills of a radiator, he was hot.

Lured by the warmth of his crib, i slither my right arm across his chest right away. He shivers at the touch, moves away from me and pulls the blanket over him. While he does so, half asleep, i close my eyes too, pretending not to notice it. Once he softly snores, i put back my arm across his chest back over again, then another arm as well.

Then, I lay my hands still, waiting for them to warm up, like Eskimos on Arctic, spreading their palms  in front of a flame. Only difference was, they were more tolerant to cold than i was.

Seeing no other way out, finally i decide to burn my ego down and dump my body all over him. One arm on my side, one arm across. One leg on my side, one leg across. My trunk over his, my hip flexed at  one joint.

‘You are cold’ Will murmurs, half asleep, waking up by the cold touch again.

‘Yeah’ i mumble, hoping he doesn’t  recall our big fight. Not now, when i could die of hypothermia or whatever that thing  people at north and south pole died of when they were exposed to extreme cold.

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It was a refreshing nap.

I felt as warm and as fuzzy as a new hatch-ling duck when i woke up. But 2 hours past and Will was still asleep. ‘Did he swallow a sleeping pill or something?‘ i start to worry.

Will’s skin between brows were creased and lips were sealed shut. Even on his sleep, he looked very distressed. But then again, it too was part of punishment. If he didn’t realise a mistake, how was he going to learn. I never intended to do it.

However, a softer side of my psyche speaks. ‘What are you doing? You love this man. You never hurt people you love.’

I agreed. Enough was enough. My insanity was indeed rising on its peak.

Will’s  arms were uncomfortably stretched , bend over his elbows with his head resting on one of his forearms and wrists put together behind his neck  to one side.

Had i been too occupied with thought of punishing him, or too driven for teaching him a lesson  or both. At what i saw next, i broke into tears. I could not forgive myself.

His hands were swollen down the strap till the pulps of his fingers. The skin above them were discoloured bluish black. It looked painful. Very painful and cruel.

‘What? What happened?’. Will asks alarmed, waking up to my sobs.

‘Your hands…hands… ‘ I couldn’t even utter a single word after that.

How could i have done this to him? I love him. I couldn’t even believe myself.. 

 

 

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Will You Into My Will ( Chapter 61)

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‘Wait. Don’t go.’ Will pulls the edge of my robe , gripping it in between his fingers, between the narrow space his sealed hands allowed.  Turning around quickly I pull my robe free from him.

‘Enough is enough I said!’ I screech, moving a step back from him, stretching my palms forward, warning him to stay put where he sat. ‘Don’t’.

He looks at me hesitantly as though he is unable to react at my sudden burst of mania. Then taking a while to process his thoughts over, he withdraws his hand slowly. ‘I am sorry‘ he apologises, rubbing his fingers over his eyes, over the bridge then, locking them to knuckles in front of his lips.

‘I love you. I don’t want to hurt you.’

‘Think again’. I grumble, sitting on my bed, across him. ‘Your actions says otherwise’.

He looks at me and lets out a long sigh. Then, throwing his arms over his head and leaning back on the sofa, he asks ‘What do i do to make you believe me?’

‘Nothing. Nothing, you can do’.

He sighs again. ‘What do you want from me? Tell me please’. His voice gets softer with a  desperate tone.

‘Really?’ I throw him an amused pretentious look.

He nods his head, appearing more hopeful, leaning forward closer to hear me out.

‘Nothing.’ I hit him hard with disappointment like a hammer on head. ‘He deserves this!’ I chuckle on my own.

 

Will doesn’t speak a word after that.

He looks at me vacantly; a mixture of  anger, sadness and confusion  gleams on his eyes; his stare transfixes at me, into me and beneath the layer of my cornea, through the gap in my pupils, against the frail membrane of my lens and deeper beneath..

‘Look away’ i snarl , feeling exposed, vulnerable..

He does. A moist film of tear running down the corner of his lids.

He is manipulating you! Don’t fall for it!’ My subconscious roars. ‘If you do, might as well admit to yourself, you are his whore!’.

‘I won’t. Not again!’ I brush away my sympathy. And picking my pillow from the ground, i put it back to my head end of bed, preparing to to sleep.

Will’s head is still faced away from me. He too has lied down on sofa now, with his feet overhanging down the edges and arms folded uncomfortably, crouched  against the corner, trying to fit in his long body on limited space. I can hear him make noises, like breathing roughly against a blocked nose, like sobbing quietly.

I crawl down in my bed, looking at him, cornered  by the unwanted emotions i refuse to feel. First there is fear; the dread of being raw, naked down to my soul; my secrets were no longer mine. The power to control; my thoughts, my wants were no longer mine. And, the key; to my happiness, to my dreams..everything narrowed down to one, my vision tunnelled, it’ was no longer mine.

Second to creep was ‘pain’; amplified by my fear of getting hurt. An acute ache in middle of my chest that i could not point. So unbearable, as though, my muscles were being twisted and stretched beyond their endurance till they tore..

The third, knocking around my misery came ‘The Anger’, so much, building up inside me, that it suffocated my lungs.

‘Wake up! Wake up!‘ i shrug Will roughly by his shoulder.

‘Leave me alone. Go to sleep.’ 

‘No! Wake up!’ I shrug him again. Shaking him violently than before.

‘Ok Ok. Whats wrong with you?’ He sits up, moving side to side, putting his hands down for support.

I lift them above the ground and stretching it past his head, secure them at the back of his neck, making sure  both his arms were  now raised and restricted to any movements.

‘What are you doing?’ he asks me confused, his voice now hoarser with a nasal twang.

‘Securing it. So that you don’t move’.  I reply,  checking the knot again, pulling his head towards me.

‘Why?’ 

‘Sex. I want Sex’. I reply bluntly, looking at him, my hands pushing up his Tee past his neck.

‘I am not in mood,’ he exclaims, creasing his brows in disbelief, angry at me.

‘You don’t need to be. It has a brain of its own. Beside, You Got No Choice!’ I snap back equally infuriated, stressing him loud enough  on ‘You Got No Choice’ part.

He stares at me, taken back, without blinking his eyes for seconds.  I pull down his trousers, down his bums anyways.

Don’t!’ he snarls, sitting down on it, bloated, grumpily.  ‘I didn’t stop you from doing anything. You shouldn’t too’ I mumble, reminding him of his deed, a day back, to which he still owed me. Upset, i would still pull that guilty card, he looks at me regretfully with a repentant conscience.

Then, he lets me drag his trousers all the way  down  his feet and off it, in no time. Still groaning and complaining, he watches me  toss it far too, to the bin beside the door, like a crumpled piece of a paper. ‘Ooooh Yes. I loved it!’

‘It will be more fun, if you set me free from this’. He bends  his head,  to slide forward his hands, showing me what he meant.

Stop, I want your hands back!‘ I snap again, suddenly, frustrated; at his lack of compliance with simple rules. ‘Did you hear me complain then?’ i ask him, utterly annoyed.

It gets easier the next few minutes. Me handling him, playing with him and slipping him off inside me. He doesn’t say a word at all. Not a sound, just the way i wanted it.  I close my eyes then, allowing myself to float in blissful pleasure i was learning to indulge..thinking in my head that ‘It could have been anyone, anyone else in my arms, not necessarily him.’

My knees spread wider apart, relaxing my pelvic floor to accommodate the pressure i was raising, swelling inside me. My back arches forward and backward like swinging on a vine, on its own, controlling the motion of my thrust.. And my hip moves up and down, feeling  every inch of his muscle grate the folds of my tunnel, pleasurably.

I moan softly, resting my head against his shoulders, locking him inside my own arms, pushing and pulling my passage till his tip. The juices on my body pent up and release with every friction i pass on them. Running my fingers across his hair then, i pull his head close to my chest, burying his face on my skin, watching him wet it with his saliva; enjoying each stroke, driving my own route to my lustful pleasure.

‘Fuck me harder baby’ Will whispers on my ear, nibbling on it, sensing my urge getting stronger.

Don’t talk’ i breath out, looking at him, pressing my hip harder against him and  my forehead pressed against his.

‘Use me. Want me. Love me.’ he moans. ‘I want to see you come’..

‘Shhh..’ I hush.    ‘Can’t.’

‘Why? But.. i want you to.’

‘Don’t ask’. I cover his mouth with my wrist, stopping him mid sentence, driving back to momentum.

However, i halt again. ‘Ah. Don’t bite!What now? ‘ I sneer at him.

‘Don’t pace fast. I don’t want to’. He whines leaning his head on my chest. ‘At least kiss me once…’

‘Well you can’t decide. Can you? I have it my way today.’ I push him back on the sofa and bending forward to wrap him again around his neck, resting my head against his shoulders, moving back and forth. ‘Why should i kiss you?‘ i mumble as i do so.

‘I’m not just the thing down you know. I am a human’. He replies with a sigh.

‘Me too. I guess you didn’t know that before huh..’

Well as long as i’m the only one getting in.. I don’t mind i suppose.’  He pecks a soft kiss on my cheek, snuggling past my hair, at which i raise my head and stare at him with surprise.

‘Don’t be too sure. I have a need.‘ I lash at him.

‘Nothing gets in down there except my fingers, your fingers and my stick’.

‘Well, its my body! Stop acting like you control me!’ I glare at him

He doesn’t speak a thing again. And i stop chattering too. We get straight to business, getting it done; me fucking him the way i want.

Once we were over it, I clean myself and toss him a roll of tissues to clean his. ‘Thanks’ I leave him a kiss on a forehead for being a good fuck-buddy.

‘Wait!! Maybe I am being too kind to him..

‘You aren’t even that good by the way. Waste of my time!’ I hurl at him, my vicious comment. Whoever said, word can’t kill..  Trust me, it does much worse. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Will You Into My Will (Chapter 58)

 

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I regretted my decision of ‘blasting my night out’ plan, as soon as i stepped in the pub. Ever seen a disco ball hanging down the ceiling of a library? I looked that disoriented to time and place in here. Over hyped and over dressed; for a small country club filled with men, majority of them on their sweat shirts and trekking shoes. Without any doubts, with my open back, V neck plunging down to my almost non existent cleavage on front and see through net just covering my bellybutton, i looked like a hooker to them.

‘So much effort for nothing! What happened to all the party and all the hot people they had in here last time??’ I frown, devastated at my crumbled expectations.

Thank God for the bartender though, who looked cute and kind enough to spare me a smile, i calm myself down.  ‘No problem. There is my company..’ I tell myself, refusing to go back to that sickening feeling of standing next to Will, marching my steps towards the last ray of hope glimmering dimly next to shelves full of bottles. ‘Why is it that, all the good things in the world come with a big price tag? Like all roses come with prickly thorns? Will came with his Fiancee, Brandon came with Mia and now, the bar tender is standing with alcohol!! Not just one but with hundreds on display. Lord help my liver..’ I pray,  pulling out a chair before settling down in front of him.

‘What would you like?’ He asks me cheerfully.

‘Anything you would recommend.‘ I reply looking at him with a flirtatious grin.

Bingo! He grins too. As frisky as i was looking and feeling, i was happy he did.  After all, my devotion for next few hours was entirely going to be on him. Solely and full heartedly. Tonight i was a free spirit, bound to no one’s beck and call. Oh wait! i never was and i never will!” I remind myself, feeling proud at my decision of leaving Will anytime soon, without a penny worth of feeling  harbouring in me.

The bar tender pours me a glass of Gin, ‘a cocktail’ of Gin and lemon drink. I don’t question him any further than the recipe, complimenting on the taste, afraid of appearing too naive. But he  didn’t seem to care about it either and was more  interested in adding to the conversation plate than digging in the details,  for which i was more than grateful to him.

“Gin tastes similar to vodka i think. Although both are colourless, i found Gin has got a distinct touch of a flavour on it. I really can’t tell which but its got one, that makes it stand out between the two. So, I think i like gin more than vodka. I think..”

‘Here is  one on the house for the beautiful lady’ the bartender puts forward another cocktail for me flashing his dazzling smiles on a row.

 ‘I don’t think that will be enough for me to heal up my broken heart Ethan..’ I whine playfully at him, making a disappointed face having heard about his girlfriend and 4 long years of committed relationship. However, casting my dis pleasure aside, i manage to  pull a smile for him and raise my glass on the air wishing him all the luck i could give. ‘Cheers to you and your love life’!! I say, praying in my heart that someday.. someday  i ended up with someone as cool and as loyal as him as well.

I sip my third glass very slowly. From my previous experience, i knew two glasses of vodka was enough to knock me out but ‘Gin’ i didn’t know.

The old pendulum clock on the wall strikes 12 times as i sit there  holding a glass  of my own on the bar. People come and go. I watch Ethan take orders, hand them their pints and print the receipts. Simultaneously  I watch the customers make their orders, take their drinks and pay the bill.

More than 2 hours or so of being a bystander with nothing to do,  but watch Ethan’s monotonous routine, i start to quiver, feeling like old men they cased on movie shows. Those who were depressed, hopeless and had nothing  in life to look forward to, than drown themselves to death on alcohol. Those who were always in lookout for company to crack their dark non humorous jokes that no one understood. 

 Sitting there i start to  wonder about  many things.. About the lives of few people i had seen, who had drank too much and ruined everything they had. I start to question, why hadn’t they set a limit for themselves? And if they did, why they had fallen back to  drinking again?  ‘Could it be that they felt, alcohol helped with their problems? ” I ask  my subconscious self, genuinely trying to plough for answers.

Ever listened to a drunk man speak?

Not for minutes but at least about for an hour? Here is what happens. They talk crap at first, nothing but verbal diarrhoea.  But as they get in more involved with the topic, they start making more sense. They start talking like they have been enlightened. Like if they know all the answers to all the problems in the world except for their own of course.. And 3 glasses cocktail down my stomach, I was feeling  the same.  May be a bit different, in a sense, I knew my options clearer than they did and i knew what i had to do next. “I had  to go back. Take my suitcase right away. Throw his, on the river where he could never find them. And before i leave, hit him with one of my shoes on his face!” 

I take in a sip again, laughing at myself. It seemed like a good idea..

Oddly the burning sensation on my throat that comes with each sip has now passed away. My tongue has become too thick, too anaesthetised to read the flavour.  My glass of cocktail no longer is bitter nor sweet, its tasteless, utterly tasteless like water.

Disgruntled, gulping all the remains, i leave the glass empty in no time, ordering in for  another shot, this time, a neat vodka.

Ethan raises his eye brows. Yet, without complaining he takes in my glass.  ‘Are all drunkards heartbroken Ethan?’ i ask, watching him pour vodka, after reminding me it was my last for the night. ‘He is so cute’ i flutter, feeling cared for hearing him warn me, my comment to self  coming out aloud before i could stop it. ‘Ooooops’ i squeak then, flushing to cherry in seconds. He laughs too, putting back the new bottle to the shelf.

 ‘Open a bottle of alcohol alone and you are officially a drunkard’ My mom’s words, blows a trumpet in my ears as i take in my shot , its sharp burning taste exciting my taste buds again.  ‘Of course i am not a drunkard!!‘ i defend talking out aloud, to my self- imaginative voice of hers.

Past 1 at morning and i still hang out at the bar,  sitting there like an annoying mosquito, half sedated by the repellent spray, buzzing, clueless of my pitiful status.

‘Pick up your phone darling. Surely things aren’t that bad’ Ethan urges me to answer my call, hearing  my cellphone phone vibrate on the bag.

‘Not so important like you..’ I reply smiling at him playfully again. At which Ethan replies with playful gesture too.

Ethan is understanding that way. He knows i’m just looking for a company to drink my night out with. Its like he can see me through more than what i am showing on surface.. So, i like him. Maybe a little too much for our first meeting. But, yes.   He is amazing. And he has a comfortable aura to him, sort of like  Brandon has.

Brandon..’     I submerge back into thinking again at a thought of that name.

‘Carem you’ve got to speak to him. Tell him anything. Lie to him. Fake it to him. Pretend. Whatever. But make him believe that you haven’t left him. He is going nuts here.‘ I recall Mia’s words, what she had said to me when she had called me the night before yesterday.

Panicked, i had then dialled Brandon’s number, but the computer had kept sending me to his voice message system. The day after  in the morning,  i had called him once again.  And finally after 5 days, Brandon and I were reconnected. As soon as he had picked up the call, he had barged me with tens of questions on one breath, to which i had replied very calmly, assuring him that  i will be back by the end of this week.  I had questioned then probing gently about his whereabouts, mentioning him that he should go back and everyone were worried about him.  He had convinced me that he would and  also pinched in all the details of his missing days for my note without me questioning about it .

Apparently, Brandon had stayed a night at his cousins the day before. And the day after that, he had gone to a club, got so drunk with them that he had woken up on the sidewalks of the road.

‘Hey, Carem. Are you alright?’ A nudge on my shoulder shakes me  back from my depressing thoughts to my depressing reality. ‘Oh No..’ i sigh. Choking in thoughts is still a better option for me, no matter who puts it in and in what way, than being strangled in reality.

‘Are you alright?’ the dark haired man, holding a cycle helmet asks me again, approaching closer coming front to front so that i can see his face.

‘Yeah..I am Matt.’ I reply, clearing my throat, trying to sound not-so-drunk.  But who am i kidding? He probably already knows.. i’m a disco ball tonight. Remember?

‘5 pints of ale for each on that table please’ Matt puts in his order to Ethan, pointing at a big table on the corner of the pub. I look too, like Ethan did at the direction he pointed. ‘Hey Carem,‘ remaining of the men from Matt’s table ‘my neighbours’, all raise together their hands on  air. I blush. This was the last place i wanted to meet them especially not in this state.

‘What would you like?‘ Matt asks me, after i was done waving back very shyly.

‘Enough for today for the lady’ Ethan speaks for me, winking his eye. I smile thankfully.

‘You heard him Matt. I had too much for today.’ I reply, blushing off again. ‘This was hopelessly embarrassing. They were my neighbours for god sake!’

Hmm if you say so Carem. But at least join us on our table..’ he insists.

‘May be i should head home now Matt. I have been here too long tonight’ i reply, trying not to sound rude.

‘But we just came. And we are neighbours’  he tries to persuade me again.

‘oh well ok..’ i agree, looking at Ethan. He nods too looking at Matt.

‘Just in case though, whats your number?’ Ethan asks taking out his cellphone from the  drawer.

I almost jump with excitement like a little girl on hearing him. Do you know that feeling of  making a first friend in a new school? One that is both cool and popular. Well i felt that way.   ‘Here! Save your number and give a call in yours’ i reply him, handing him my phone, my anxiety clearly ringing on my voice; staring at his sleek fingers, adoringly type his name and number on my contact list.

Ethan and I were friends starting today..and i assume ‘we will be’ for a very very long time.