One Fucked Up World

Chapter Twelve

     "Hey, you've walked past our room," Don said. I turned around and thrust the key to the knob. I turned the knob, it didn't work. I thrust the key straight into the hole again. Move you fucking door! I plugged in key again, why didn't you let me in? Why be so stubborn now? I had to pound it, hit it. I probably had to break it down. Was there a hammer?

     "Minnie."

     Thum. Thum. Thum. Thum. What the fuck was wrong with this door?

     I had to go in, before it was too late and before there was nothing left.

     Thum. THUM.

     "No one is in the room," someone pulled my arm. I was kept away from the door.

     "I know," I said hotly, "I'll - I'll go down to the reception, or, um, yeah I'll call the service - can I do that?"

     "Give me the key," I didn't. "Please," he said. Please, I told myself.

     Don used both of his hands to take it from my rounded fist. He brushed his lips on my forehead before inserting the key. With a "clink", the door was opened. The light was on. There were two beds, a desk next to the window. I closed the curtain and Don turned on the air conditioner. I took off my coat and put my bag on the desk.

     Don hopped onto the bed near the bathroom and buried his face into the clean blanket.

     I went into the simple bathroom. I looked weathered in the mirror, like some rocks in the sea. I washed my face with the cold water. I couldn't stop rubbing my eyes and cheeks.

     When I looked up again, I saw Don's reflection near the door. Our eyes met, he handed me a towel from the drawer. I shook my head and wiped my face with my sleeves.

     "Why are you always so stubborn? It's not cute," he said, he smeared my forehead with the soft towel.

     "Why can't you mind your own business?" I whispered. I left the bathroom.

     "Are you going out for dinner now? 'Cause I am starving," Don said.

     "Nope."

     "Aren't you hungry?"

     "No," I replied, "go, I don't want to see you in the room."

     I heard the door closed louder than I wanted it to. I had the water running when I undressed. I looked at my face, my breast, my naked, ruined self. What a pity.

     I wished the room was crowded with people. I imagined a party was thrown in this room with loud music.

     Hot water boiled my skin. I pinched my nose and dived into the tub until I didn't have any air left in my lungs. I did it many times until my eyes hurt. Should I just drown myself now? What did it mean to anyone anyway?

     I panted when I breathed again and splashed water on my shoulders. Be normal, I warned myself. I rubbed my arms, I tried to rub off those lines, scars. Tommy wouldn't stay when the lines were here, would he stay if the lines were gone?

     I never showed anything about not wanting Tommy. I was brave and courageous when I loved him. I thought he knew that - why would he ever imagine me not wanting him? I couldn't hold it together.

     Tommy tried to save us in his own strange methods while all he should do was to walk away. How stupid I was to hate him ? But Tommy was nowhere close to wise either - why wouldn't we want to see him? So many happened that needed reasoning, so clouded reasons that needed him here.