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Crack.
“Again!” I roar.
And then—
Numb.
I’m numb, the pain of my memories, my sins, superseding the pain caused by the whip. There’s no stinging or stabbing anymore as the leather connects with my back. The only pain I feel is in my heart. It’s the crippling agony of failure—failure to protect the only thing left in my life that means something to me. Drink would’ve numbed this torture. But it also would have caused more pain...more failure. More reasons to drive the only beautiful thing in my life away.
But, I realize now, I don’t need alcohol to drive her away.
Even stone-cold sober I’m poisonous.
A failure.
I could smell the ignorance and escape that bottle of vodka would provide, but I could also smell the remorse that would follow.
Punish myself.
That’s my only option. And here on my knees, I can pray too. And yet I know this won’t make me miraculously worthy of her love.
Crack.
Because I’m wired to always fuck up everything good that comes into my life.
Crack.
Maybe this is my penance—God giving me a brief perception of how my life could be, knowing I’ll screw it up.
Crack.
Leaving me hollower and more lost than before.
Crack.
Or, maybe one day I might get something in my life right. I won’t ruin the people I love.
Maybe.
Who knows.
Crack.
My back bows sharply, my head flying back as the leather meets my flesh, and there’s pain again. An inferno blazing across the flesh of my back.Fucking hell. Distant yells, cries, sobs reach my ears, and I search in my darkness for the source. Is it Jake yelling at me? Rosie crying?
No...
A scream, loud and frightened. A yell, angry and stressed.
Ava.
John.
My head whips up, finding them in a physical struggle. She’s screaming, thumping, and hitting him. He’s cursing, yelling, trying to catch her flailing arms.
What is she doing here? What’s happening?
Where the fuck am I?
