DESI
Desiand I did everything he promised we’d do that summer. We went to movies, to every zoo, amusement park, and roadside attraction we came upon on our journey. Nothing was off-limits because we had the money, the means, and time.
All across the country, Desi and I traveled, killing people we were told deserved it.Despite what he seemed to expect, I couldn’t pretend there was nothing wrong with what we were doing.
Desi assured me each and every time that I only had to be as involved as I wanted to. I could stay in the hotel and wait for him to return, or go out with him and take the person out.
“I can’t sit around and wait,” I protested every time. “I’ll worry too much. At least with me beside you, I can help protect you.”
Desi snickered at that, but I reminded him of Yorick. Desi could have died if I hadn’t been there. I refused to let that happen again.Each night, when we returned to whatever hotel we were in, I’d lock myself in the bathroom and stare at the walls.
What had we done?
Desi had begun inspecting the bathrooms and my bags, looking for razors, pills, and anything I could use to hurt myself while in there, but I couldn’t help it anymore.
It had become a compulsion, the desire to slice my skin open, to bleed, to hurt, to feel. I deserved to hurt for what we were doing.I found ways and places to hide razorblades. Sometimes, I’d sneak off while he was dealing with a mark and do it. He was too busy making sure the person didn’t get away to make sure I wasn’t hurting myself.
But every night, when we were back in our room, he’d bow his head, sink his shoulders, and politely, ever so softly, ask me where I hurt myself.
“Do you need more bandages?” he asked, not looking me in the eye.
“It’ll heal.”
“Scout, let me see, please.” Desi dropped to his knees and he reached for me.
I tensed as he buried his head in my lap and cried.
“I hate what I’ve done to you,” he said, lifting his head. “You were so beautiful, so pure, and now, you hate yourself.”
He lifted my skirt and found the slashes on the inside of my thighs, still bleeding a bit. He stood and went to his bag, pulling out his kit.I lay there, numb, as he worked. He cleaned my cuts, bandaged, and wrapped what he could, and the deeper ones, he took his suture kit at and sewed what I had sliced too deep.
And then, he cried.
My arms, my legs, my stomach, my breasts, were covered in bandages and stitches and scars. The outside matched the inside.
Desi and I embraced each other tightly. At first, he tried to hold it together, but at some point during our journey, he lost his will to fight right along with me. He and I cried every night, and in the mornings, we’d pack up and continue as is.
He asked me every single day if I wanted to go home, and I’d refuse.
While I had taken to carving into myself as penance, Desi had started to chain-smoke.It felt like in an attempt to give ourselves a better future, we were creating a rift that would inevitably break us up. Eventually, he wouldn’t be able to take my miserable moping and leave me.Finally, after a particularly long night of cleaning me up, Desi threw up his hands.
“We’re done. If we go on one more day, I’m going to lose you.”
I sat up and blinked through my tears. Was this it? Was he breaking up with me?
He climbed onto the bed and straddled me. He brought his face inches from mine and bore his beautiful blue eyes into me.
“What do you mean?” I whimpered.He ripped open his dress shirt, then pressed his lips against mine.This was the first time in weeks that I had felt any true passion between us. Was this our goodbye kiss?
“I can’t lose you,” he murmured, pulling away from my lips. He kissed my chin, then my neck, then my collarbone. He lowered himself and began kissing every inch of my skin he could, even the scars. “I’ve taken everything from you, but I need to give it back. Scout, I’m sorry for what I’ve done to you. I don’t want this for you. For us. I need you back.”
He sat up and removed his clothing. I admired his perfect, unflawed body.I had taken all the pain so that he didn’t have to.
“You’re still beautiful, you know that, right?” He reached out and held my head between his large, warm hands, forcing me to look at him. “Stop it. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. And tonight, I’m taking you back. Taking us back.”
I didn’t know what that meant, but then he kissed me again.
I didn’t want to lose him either. In an attempt to not lose him, I lost myself.
