Terrestrial Alien ✔

Chapter 40: Monster

   It isn't the permanent damage that makes me feel heavy when I look at it though— it's the constant reminder for Joshua. Something that'll bring up bad memories every time he looks at it. And at this point, the last thing this boy needs is more bad memories.

  I can only hope we'll both be able to get used to it, one day.

  It's this scar Joshua is looking at when he murmurs, "I don't want to hurt you anymore, Sundo."

   "You won't." I insist, trying to be as firm as possible to convince him. Gently, I press a hand against the side of his face. "You know you can't. I just.. I just don't want you feeling trapped. You should be able to leave if it becomes too much for you..."

   "No, I shouldn't. I shouldn't run anymore, Sundo, and you know it. It's all I've been doing. So I'm going to stay here, and I'm going to face this, even if I don't like it. I'm doing this."

    His eyes are like chips of hard amber in the lamp light as he gazes at me. And they wear me down. Finally, I lean back, taking my hand with me, leaving him his space. He shivers at the absence I leave behind, and his head falls forward.

   He doesn't trust himself. I can see now more than ever, and I understand more now than when he explained it to me. He doesn't trust himself, in the moment, not to run when faced again with... me. So he's tying himself down. Literally.

   But that makes me nervous for another reason, because I never once feared for myself. I trust him. It's me whom I don't trust.

  Swallowing the lump forming in my throat, I hoarsely whisper, "I could kill you."

   Joshua looks up, and the fear I know so well flickers in his eyes. But he squashes it; grabs it and ties it down with his wrists.

   Tilting his chin up, his eyes flash and he says, "Then don't."

   I hold his gaze for as long as I can. Then, when I can bare it no longer, my shoulders slump with defeat. I promised him I'd do this, and if he's still dead set on going through with it, I have to go through it.

   This is good for me as well, I know. I try to focus on that part: how this isn't just for him, but for me also. Double therapy, he called it. And it's only for one night. If it doesn't work, we never have to try this again.

   I just really hope this works.

   I have no illusions about how dangerous this is: I know exactly how dangerous this is, and the amount of trust Joshua is putting in me is... it's... it's astounding. I'm hardly exaggerating when I say he's putting his life in my hands.

   I don't know how the idea of it sits with me, but a thick, conflicting bubble of emotion has settled in my chest, and I'm just waiting for it to pop at exactly the wrong moment.

   We're doing this. We are. And it's going to be alright.

   Giving Joshua one last, long, meaningful look, I back away completely, scooting back the couple of feet it takes till my back is against the foot of the bed. I pause a moment, then take ahold of the ends of my loosely buttoned flannel, lifting it up and over my head, tossing it aside.

    I've stepped far enough out of the flash light's circle of light that it hardly touches me, and yet I notice Joshua's gaze still on me, eyeing the skin and the markings I've exposed. His gaze draws heavily up to my face after a brief moment, and he watches me expectantly.

   Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes.

   My heart is pounding in my chest as I reach out inside myself, searching for that part of me, searching for what I need to pull that part of me to the outside.