Stay Away from Pleasure

Chapter Fifty-One

"Don't come near me!" I scream, "you make me sick, literally!" I point at what I produced while watching the closing events of the film.

"I'll take care of–"

"No!"

"Lisette plea–"

"Don't! Don't do anything! Don't say anything!"

"Please!" He bawls. "Just love me."

My eyes water as I look at him. What happened? I once knew a man. He was strong and powerful. Once he had his mind set on something, he did it. Not bothered, he didn't care about what anyone thought or what they said. He just understood where he was at and what was important and worked with that. Loving. He was loving. Unlike what each and every one of them said, he loved me and cared for me. Continuously, he proved them wrong. He showed that he could be compassionate and sweet and kind.

Everyday, it felt like I was floating on air.

Unless you've experienced a love so deep, you'll never know just what it feels like. It becomes a sweet addiction. It's something you can't live without.

All of a sudden, there's this person that you once never knew and now they're all you know. You live and breathe them. They are your air and more. What is life without them? Within a few hours, days, weeks, months or years, you find yourself going to sleep in acquiescence, not wanting to shut your eyes and lose the sweet sight of them laughing, smiling or even just lightly breathing. Each night is a prayer. A dear demand for another day of seeing that special face that has your palms sweating and heart racing.

What the hell happened?

There's always that sound, that voice, that shred of doubt, but you just tuck it away. You deliberately throw it to the back of your mind. It's just a saboteur and nothing more, but what about the fact that you can't change the truth. And most importantly, you can't hide from it. Eventually, it'll just catch up with you and bite you on the ass.

At the end of the day, there will be no one left to blame but yourself. Sometimes it's not a saboteur. Sometimes it's actually the smartest part of your mind, the most rational, the one part that refuses to be bewitched and can still see sense, that just wants to derail you from a pain that can only lead to you hitting the self-destruct button.

That voice was right. That shred of doubt was there for good reason. In all honesty, I really think I should've listened to it. I should've listened to everyone. Even before I was told, I already knew he was bad news. It was the exact moment I laid my eyes on him. That darkness that was hanging there in his gaze was evidence enough that he was bad news. But, of course, I didn't listen.

And now look at me.

Look at this predicament I'm in. I have fallen head over heels for a man that slaughtered his own mother. That sentence alone is laughable. I mean, who would be that dumb? Who could be so easily fooled?

I guess I haven't changed since Todd. Sadly, I'm still the gullible, little, naïve girl that gets walked all over and manipulated.

Wow.

Some things don't change.

"You want love?" I ask through gritted teeth.

"Please."

"You don't deserve it."

I've had enough. That's it. The pain that comes with being in the same room as him is unbearable. All that appears in my mind is that image of him and his mother. She didn't deserve to die that way. No one deserves to die that way. Guilt. It's all I feel right now. I don't know exactly what I feel guilty about, but it's there. It lingers. And I hate it.