There's blood in my ears and a fool in the mirror

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Hot tears stream down my cheeks. What would Celia think of me if she knew? I don't want to cry, I hold as still as I can, but my body shakes.

"Hey, are you crying? Oh, this is a terrible bed time story. I shouldn't have..."

"That's not it. That's not it. I just. It just kills me that you never left room in your heart for the possibility that maybe there was another reality," I now hold the silk lapel of her PJs in my fist, my head heavy against her chest, "That night. That night with Riva, maybe she was grinning while bearing it. Maybe she didn't want to. Maybe the feel of his hands all over her made her sick to her stomach but she couldn't see another way because sometimes. Sometimes," I am sobbing now, my voice is cracking, "...sometimes your body is the only thing you have as a bartering chip..."

"Wait, darling. What are you talking about? What are you talking about? What is this thing about bartering your body?" I feel her sit up, pushing me to sit up with her.

"And sometimes you think it's worth trading in that bartering chip for the opportunity. So maybe you let some greasy slob get his hands all over you, and you're so disgusted with yourself you can hardly stand it, but you tell yourself it'll be over in a matter of minutes, and soon you won't even remember. So you let him paw you and take you to his room." Celia is quiet and grave, her cheeks color. I try not to look in her eyes, embarrassed, but I finish what I need to say. "And when he's done, you have a shot at what you want. And maybe that's a few months of bliss with your sweetheart."

I bawl irrepressibly, hands on my face. Celia takes me in, swaying us gently, side to side. I finally put my arms around her as well and try to steady my breathing. My tears subside. She lays me down, dashing to the bathroom to fetch tissues. She comes back and sits beside me with a glass of water. I sit up and take the Kleenex, blow my nose, take the glass, take a sip. "I'm sorry. I feel stupid."

"Look at me." I obey. "You did nothing wrong. You understand? You didn't do anything wrong."

"No. I never said..." My heart is racing. I'm trembling.

"You didn't have to," her jaw is clenched. I guess deep down inside, I wanted someone to know. "Listen to me," she continues, "It is one thing to trick a prick into bed and not enjoy yourself, it's another to..." She sighs and slows her words. "What you're describing is illegal. It's predatory." Tears form in my eyes once more. I feel her take me in her arms again, she kisses my forehead. "What do you need me to do, darling? Speak a name, it's done. I can get to just about anyone."

I panic and pull away pleading, "No please, no. I shouldn't have said anything. Please don't...He can never find out. He can never find out."

"It's okay, it's okay. I won't." I collapse into her embrace once more, rest my chin on her bony shoulder, hide my face in her hair. "We can pretend you never said. I can do that for you too, but from here on, you come to me, okay?" The tension in my shoulders melts as she begins to hum a tune, a sweet melody in my ear. She is rocking me. We stay like this a minute or so until I am settled down. She gets up to turn off all the lights and tucks me in. She's about to make her way to the other bed, but I take her hand and lift the covers. She curls up with me, pressed against my back, and holds me as I drift to slumber.

The Seven Confessions of Celia St. JamesWhere stories live. Discover now