Cheater [Watty Awards 2011]

Chapter Five

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Chapter Five

            Just let me sleep...Just let me rest for a little bit longer.

He can hear every word of what is going on, and feel all the attacking that’s going on outside. She is coming at him with water, with punches, and just plain roaring in his face. He wishes she would just stop. Can she not see how out of it he is? He cannot wake up yet. He is too tired...

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            Oh... The tender touch of her lips...

She rises briefly, flips her lengthy hair to the one side and continues to kiss him sweetly all over his lips, moving to his cheek, lowering herself to his neck. What could he do but lay back, close his eyes and enjoy it?

“Are you... licking me?” He chuckles. It is a weird sensation, and a new one.

“Why, you don’t like it?” She says quickly, rising up again, feeling embarrassed. He wipes the wet off of his neck involuntarily. Quietly, she looks down.

“I like you when you’re like this.” He holds onto her hips, offers her a gentle smile. That is when he notices that he cannot see her face. It is like his mind is preventing him, doesn't want him to remember his biggest clue. This is the girl. This is her. But he cannot remember her, her face.

“Oh, you do?” She grins widely, starts to laugh.

“Yeah, actu...”

            They talk over one another, overlapping each other’s sentences and smiling at one another throughout. Every time there is silence in the house; one of the pair will crack and start to laugh. The other joins in almost immediately after.

Suddenly, they hear something from downstairs – a dreaded sound. The key is being pushed into the lock and the door is being opened.

“Shit!” He almost shoves her off of his body and goes into panic mode.

“Hello?” He knows that voice.

“It’s...” She says, calmly. She expects him to reply, to respond in a different way than this,

“Holy fu-” Cole cries, throwing his plain T-shirt back on and checking the white for any lipstick stains. All clear, “I’m in so much trouble.”

“No...” Again, she is dressing slowly. It is like she knew this would happen, “This had to happen sometime.” She voices.

“What?!” He whispers, careful not to make it obvious to Gwen that they are here.

“She had to know sometime.”

“Are you crazy?” Finishing off with his pants, he starts with his footwear.

“Just a little.” She strokes a finger down his chest, teasing. Right now, he isn’t in the mood for teasing. Maybe he is in the mood for a game of ‘Who can Get Dressed and Pick up Their Shit First?’, or maybe the classic, ‘Who can Get the Hell out of Here the Fastest?’, but not anything sexual. It isn’t the time for that.

            They hear Gwen approaching the stairs, getting more and more suspicious that there are people in the house.

“Hello?” Again, she calls.

“Listen! Gwen is going to...” Cole fakes death, pretends to strangle a teddy bear. Gwen would probably do worse, now that Cole thinks about it.

“Be happy that you told her the truth.” She smiles from behind her blur. How he wishes he remembered her. That would solve everything.

            “Look, I promise,” His heartbeat is increasing in real life, just as it is in the darkness. He will wake up soon. He can feel it.”I promise we’ll tell her!” He struggles; as he hears Gwen’s footsteps come up the stairs.

“Let’s do it now. Why should we wait?”

“You need to hide. Now.” He grabs her arm, tries to gently throw her down, but then, there isn’t ever a gentle way to throw someone, is there?

“Ow. Cole!” She cries.

“We’ll tell her.” She starts to shuffle under the bed, “I promise.”

“Ok. Get rid of her.” Cole helps her get further under the bed. She is completely out of sight. Phew. He breathes a quick sigh of relief before,

            “Cole?” Gwen is standing in the doorway, wearing a pretty dress, looking amazing, as always.

“G-Gwen.” He smiles, perching on the side of the bed.

“What are you doing here?”

“I-I...I wanted to surprise you.” He crosses his leg, tries to look more relaxed. And fails.

“Well, I’m surprised...” She starts to smile, always trusting, still loving, “Hm...You look so... uncomfortable in all those clothes...” Her voice starts to fade and she pushes him onto the bed. It is dipping in and out, as if she were a censored curse word. Her image is blurring too.

“Gwen...” He tries. He is fading back into reality and can feel his heartbeat going at twice its usual speed. Before he knows it, he is back in the wrong kind of darkness.

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“Back so soon?” She smiles, wickedly.

“No...” He realises he is not feeling groggy or drained, but pumped. She has given him something, done something to his sleeping body.

She holds up a needle; he is right, “Adrenaline.” They say together.

            “This is you,” She laughs, “Gwennnn! Gwennnn!” It is hilarious to her. He is not even smiling.

“No I wasn’t.”

“Yeah, you were.”

He gives up. It is a stupid argument. It is not like he was awake to even know what he is talking about.

“Aww, look at us, already talking like old times.”

“We’re not talking...” He wishes he could feel his face. Cole wants to check out all the damage, see just how bad everything is... If it is as painful as it feels... He dreads that it will look just as painful.

“I had to wake you up. You almost figured out who I was.” She walks over to the sink, washes off the knife. He prays that this is not her way of getting ready for another cut.

“Good. It’d feel so much better then, when I cut you in half.” He puts all of his emphasis on the last line. How good it would feel to punish her for all this torture... How great it would be to have all that power. He does not even bother himself about morals,

‘You’d be just as bad as her’, ‘an eye for an eye...’ He stops thinking this way, partially because he has given up all hope in himself, in whatever is happening, and partially because he cannot remember the saying.

“I’m glad you’re with me now.” Click, click, click, she struts over to him.

“I’m not.” He mutters.

“Shut up.” She backhands him, hard. His cheek thumps almost as fast as his heart. With all this new extra energy, he starts to struggle again with his hands. Maybe if tries hard enough, they will be slippery enough, with blood, and then he can slide them through and escape.

So he tries, less apparent to her this time. Meanwhile, she starts her story again,

“This time...” She traces the knife all the way down from his neck, threatens the middle of his legs, “You’re going to listen.”