I remember having fun while we were at the bar, he spent a lot of money and since he couldn’t drink, most of that money was spent on my drinking. Early on, in the car headed there, I told him I didn’t want to drink if he wasn’t able to but he laughed like I was joking and told me that he had to get me liquored up quickly if he had any chance. That was the first red flag I noticed and when it came out, the night became blocked by each red flag running through my head. All he wanted was to fuck me which he let be known. With each word I spoke his eyes stared down at my long, thin legs and worked up to my face from there before replying to what I had said. He was biting his lip a lot too. Despite all his demeaning attributes I remember having fun at the bar, possibly because I was drunk. I ordered expensive drinks, and sipped them slow to avoid being too drunk to finish the night. The bar had a ton of games, so we didn’t have to talk all night which I thoroughly enjoyed. The zombie shooter game was my favorite. The blood splatters were nearly 3D! There didn’t seem to be a point in humoring each other so I chose to block him out while he commented on each of the games we played.

I had his weed vape in my mouth for most of the ride home to knock myself on my ass, and to avoid conversation as much as I could. None of it meant anything, and both of us knew that. We knew so early on that none of this meant anything so what the point in getting to know each other then? I wanted to ask him that so badly, since he made me chug that one last drink as we played the duration of our game. I was drunk enough for it but again, what would be the point? Kaitlin texted me, I don’t remember what she said but I remember typing, awful, awful, awful, awful, awful, with no other context while the fancy radio in his Mustang covered me in a red glow. It was playing some song he liked that was more likely to be from his time than mine. It was bad enough for me to pull out my phone and repeat, awful, awful, awful, awful, awful to anyone who had messaged me in the last 24 hours. I stared out the window but couldn’t see anything but buildings in the distance. I liked seeing the buildings on drives, it always gave me a tourist’s rush. We didn’t take the path passed downtown, we took a faster way and for that I was thankful. There wasn’t much conversation on the trip back, I don’t remember it when we first left, or when we sat by his car beforehand and smoked a cigarette. None of it mattered to me, so each word he spoke about his throbbing head and tired eyes, or desire to drink, or the way his mother would line he and his brother’s up when they misbehaved and beat them in order of youngest to oldest, none of it was said for anyone who cared. It was all said for someone who would rather the words slip from his lips and go out the window. Fucking kill me, oh my god. I sent that one to my mom on accident. Part of me hoped he was looking at my phone. Jamie would do that, each time I got a message his eyes would jolt to my screen and ooze with intrigue. Bennett seemed like he would do that too.

“What about you?”

The voice in my head was telling me to pretend to be asleep. “What about me?”

“What are your parents like?”

“My mom is alright.” He didn’t know I still lived with her. “And my dad’s a piece of shit.” Daddy issues always matter, I always indulge in that sort of discussion no matter how much the recipient of my words matters. “But I’m the only one who thinks so.”

There was a ton of construction. It had just turned midnight, the radio hosts announced the arrival into the new day with a song called Midnight Matchmaker. He turned it down while rubbing at his forehead. “It’s always one of the parents. Did he beat you?”

“Yeah.” I lied.

“I’m sorry.” He was genuine, the fancy radio illuminated the car in shades of violet, and I was drunk enough to fuck him but the thought of doing so still made me sick so I suppose I wasn’t. His hand grasped my thigh, tickling it gently. I put mine on top of his and it felt so wrong. He felt it too, I could tell by the look he gave my hand while he rubbed it. His hands were soft, feminine. “Everyone’s been through fucked up shit huh?” WHY DOES THIS MATTER?

“Yeah- “I rubbed his hand taking note of the lack of hair or popping veins. They seemed to not fit in with the rest of him and his manly, rugged self. It was strange but I didn’t question it. There wasn’t much left I had to question, I didn’t want to hear him speak anymore I wanted some part of him in a different way but still couldn’t get myself to be convinced of that. If he would’ve taken the road back to his place I wouldn’t have fought it. I would’ve been scared but I would’ve let him fuck me, but I could see the off ramp in the distance to my place so I knew it wasn’t going to happen that way. His hand was still beneath mine, the dim sound of a familiar song on the radio had me free my leg from his hand by turning up the knob. It wasn’t one I loved dearly but I faked it like it was. The minute the vocals came in muffled behind a repetitive clicking beat I was singing along loud enough for him to think I was that band’s biggest fan. I knew almost every other word. He was judging, and not trying to hide it. There wasn’t much time in between the time I turned it up and the time he turned it down while giving me a squint. He said something about how bad his head was throbbing. I rolled down my window because I didn’t feel well either. My head was starting to spin. “Sorry, I forgot you had a headache. You look okay.”

“Well, I feel like shit.” The breathalyzer beeped. He rolled up my window from his side. “Thanks though. You look okay too I guess.” We were passing the McDonalds down the street from my place, I wanted some so badly I felt like crying about it. The thought of being home later than sooner had me wanting to cry harder though so I decided not to ask. The smell of the French fry oil they’ve enslaved the world with came in through the window. He covered his nose.

“You look good for not feeling good I mean.” He always looked fucking good. That’s the worst part about it, he looked good enough to eat, but I didn’t want it anymore. I just wanted to be home.

“You’re so weird.”

“Thanks,” He didn’t mean it as a compliment.

He was laughing. “You were bullied a lot in school, weren’t you?”

“I was fat and gay. What do you think?”

“Aww poor guy.” He rubbed my back. The safe feeling came back to me. His arms were big, but muscular I’m unsure because I never gave them a direct look. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.” The look I gave him, probably one with my mouth agape, made him cackle to himself. There was new graffiti on the school by my house reading: D34D K1DZ KLUB. It wasn’t there when I passed it earlier in the day, it must’ve happened while we were out.

“You have no idea.”

“Fill me in.”

We were pulling into my complex and I was wishing I would’ve just said no to the question. He didn’t deserve one of my bully stories. I didn’t have time for any of the heart wrenching full tales. “Next time I’ll make you cry.”

“Next time?” He parked directly in front of the gate. He smiled like he wasn’t expecting me to bring up a next time. I was still dizzy, the blue light from the radio made him look statuesque in his surprised pose. It was odd, I closed my eyes while I nodded. “I can’t wait to hear it.” What was the point?

“Thanks for a good night Bennett.” I grabbed my cigarettes from his cup-holder and looked at him because I knew I had to kiss him.

“Do I get a kiss?”

I nodded and leaned into him thinking while doing so of how pathetic it is to ask for a kiss. His tongue was big, and the way he kept sticking it into my mouth reminded me of the way a teenager takes a picture with theirs out. My skills were far superior. My hand was on his stomach, when he realized this he gasped and moved it to his leg. I could tell he didn’t want to make out anymore but I was drunk so I kept going. In some ways, I felt I was trying to help him feel what a good tongue kiss felt like. I pitied him so much. Once I pulled away, I was biting my lip with hand on the handle. The face he made mimicked adolescence.

“Wow you’re good at that.”

“I know.” I meant to say this in my head. I covered my arrogance up with, “I mean- so are you.”

“Can I ask you for something else before you leave?”

Before I could ask what it was I stared back at him to watch him rub at what’s beneath his Dickies. I opened the door and rushed out without looking back again. “Get home safe Bennett.” I didn’t turn around while he waited for me to get through the gate, I thought about throwing up a wave but I didn’t. The tears were falling from my eyes without me needing to have the slightest thought. I very nearly ran upstairs where Goblin was waiting by the door to greet me with her elderly mews. My hands were scraping the taste of his tongue off mine. After shoving Goblin out of the way with my foot she hissed at me which she never does so that made me cry harder. Usually I handled my liquor so much better.

When I laid down the dizziness got worse, my vision was starting to blur. My chest was feeling tight, weed was doing that to me a lot then. I tried texting Jamie back but everything I wrote made it sound like I wanted him back so I didn’t send anything. I told Bennett to get home safe, I could still taste those buffalo egg rolls in my mouth and burping the taste up was making me gag. I knew I couldn’t call it a night. My eyes began wandering my mess of a room, trying to focus on things one by one. I stared at the clothes on the ground and waited till it was lying there, still. I pulled out my blow and focused on the contents until I wasn’t holding two bags. The bumps gave me enough strength to sit on the edge of the bed. My mom’s TV was loud, I was scared it would wake her up so I stood up and locked my door. If she would’ve heard me crying she would’ve made sure she was there for me. She would stay by my side all night. And I needed to be alone for him to show up.

The door handle helped me regain my balance, grabbing Goblin and forcing her into letting me kiss her tiny adorable whiskered lips helped me regain my senses and ability to speak. The coke made it so everything else was gone. It was almost all gone. I figured I should save the rest for him just in case he stayed a while. He never did, but I was hopeful. Lighting the candles on my vanity was a challenge because my breathing was sporadic but eventually I had all five of them lit. The mirror was dirty so I spent some time fixing it up along with moving all the junk in my room out of sight of the mirror. After making his view presentable I noticed my face covered in snot and tear streaks. I cleaned myself up then pulled out my razor from its hiding spot in the closet and took off my clothes. The app on my phone was taking forever to load so I stood there naked for some time before it finally opened. It was crucial that I had the app pulled up before I got all bloody. The face that popped up first was a handsome one, with the name of Greggory. I set my phone on the counter and found a spot on my upper thigh not covered in thick scar tissue and drug the razor firmly across my skin. The pain had me call out as quietly as I could. The blood came down right away, mostly from the parts that ran over the other scars. I opened my palm and rubbed the entirety of the wound until my hand was covered, then I put it on my forehead and brought the fresh warm blood down to coat the center of my face. Normally I have to make two cuts for that much blood but that one was deep, with enough blood to cover my face in red besides my jaws and the corners of my forehead. There was still plenty coming out but I wanted another one. I did it on the other leg, a lot lower than the other. That one hurt worse but I didn’t call out, I laughed and while I did I heard Bennett’s annoying chuckles break in from time to time. “I need you again.” I told the mirror between sobs.

The second cut was bloody enough for my face to be finished, along with the help of the still oozing first one. My neck was red, but a lighter red, I wondered if he’d know if I didn’t cover the back of it. He knew everything, of course he would, I didn’t bother with it though. The third cut was on my hip which gave me not near enough blood to color the rest of my neck so I did another near the same spot and was able to come between the collar bones with my blood where I started the shape of his symbol. “I’m grateful.” I told him, fighting back the tears and losing. His symbol came down to my belly button before I turned the bottom into a cross by painting my tummy horizontally. The blood on my face was tickling me as it began to crisp. I finished the top of the symbol by adding the three prongs atop his cross that reached both of my shoulders. “But I was wrong.” The last cut I made was one to join the others on my forearm. The dizziness was coming back, he always takes away that blood loss feeling when he shows up but it was bad then, I was having to hold onto the countertop. I let the blood from my forearm drip into the sink. “I’ve given you blood, and I’m giving each day.” I hated looking at myself in the mirror, his absence had me watching myself beg for him, and I hated how pitiful I looked. I forgot about his music and remembered it then, his favorite was that one by Eric Clapton, that one that everyone knows so I put it on from my laptop. He loves slow music; piano ballads are his favorite. “I’m grateful Lord, but it wasn’t him. I need you.” The smell he brings, of cigars and wood, and fear, I could taste it through my nose. “I’m giving you blood.” My legs were still bleeding, I was putting the fresh blood over the first dry layer on my face. I was swaying back and forth, counting how many times I swayed back and forth. Goblin glared at me from across the room in absolute horror. “Where the fuck are you?” The song was making me quiver. I said my darling, you look wonderful tonight. I wished he could see me all dressed up and not like this but this is how he likes to see me. “I’m giving you blood, now I want something.” I took another cut to the right side of my thigh, above the deep one. I wiped the blood on the back of my neck. My legs wouldn’t stop moving. “Can you hear me?” My face was down in the sink while I sobbed. “Where are you?” The air went still and wonderful tonight played in a slower pace. The taste of him was warming my throat. “I was wrong Lord.” The surrounding air caressed me as he told it to but I couldn’t see him. The tears from my eyes softened the crusted blood it streaked down.

“You’re always wrong child.” His words came from the air that warmed me, they tasted like a top-shelf Merlot. Chills ran down my spine, but he wasn’t showing himself to me.

“Where are you?” Wonderful Tonight stopped playing. I was still lathering myself in the blood from my wounds. “I’m bleeding for you.”

The air wrapped around me tight, closing my throat. I lost support in my legs and fell back onto the counter, gasping for air. “You’re bleeding for yourself, selfish child.” With each of the words he spoke the air loosened until I could breathe again. Then I started sobbing so hard I couldn’t breathe all over again. “When will you stop expecting something for nothing?” Goblin was watching me with her limbs tense, ready to sprint away. I was surprised she hadn’t already.

“We’ve both given each other so much Lord.”

His choppy laugh echoed. “Child how funny you are some days, you have only given to me once, and I’ve given you so many.”

I pulled out a cigarette, getting each one in my pack covered in red on the filter. The urge to puke was overwhelming me as I started thinking of the night I gave him who he wanted. I could still hear him screaming. “I know.” A different song was playing on my laptop, one I didn’t know, a piano ballad. “I’m selfish Lord.” The shakiness of my hands made me put my cigarette out in the sink quickly. “I’ll give you another if you give me another.”

Part of his symbol was messed up on the bottom so I put a little extra blood on it and when I looked back up at the mirror he was standing there in a shape I hadn’t seen him in before. He was handsome, nothing like the horridly decrepit bearded shape he showed me the first time I called him. He wore a suit with a little flower embroidered on the pocket. He was smoking a cigar, and smiling. “Who did you have in mind?” I was getting hard looking at his smile, I wanted to wash up but instead I grabbed my phone and showed him the picture of the face named Greggory. “He’s handsome, and white?” He knew my type and that made me laugh, my legs throbbed when I did.

“He has money though.”

He stared at Greggory’s profile and laughed. “And he’s a Christian.”

“A work in progress.”

He blew smoke through the mirror at me while rolling his eyes, then he pulled a phone out from his pocket and swiped the screen with a sharp smile.

“Make him want me Lord.”

“He will want you, when you give me who I want.”

The boy I gave him years ago was still screaming in my head. “Who do you want, Lord?”

After a moment of silence while he swiped, he turned the phone my way showing me a picture of a Hispanic boy named Eddie on the screen. Below his picture was his age, 19. My phone lit up with a notification from the dating app saying that Eddie and I had matched. “I will see you then child.” He kissed the air at me before disappearing from my eyes.

I tried making him stay, and cut myself more after he left because I didn’t want to be alone, but he didn’t come back to me. I woke my mother up when I turned on the shower and she knocked on the door asking me if I was okay and I told her I was. When I was clean and covered in bandages I lied down and stared at Eddie’s picture and then Greggory’s until my tears put me to sleep.

#horror #religion #18+

Give Youself a Facial and Move On - Written by Rocky Northcutt

Our unnamed narrator has alterior motives while looking for love, and simultaneously trying to appease his Lord and Savior.