Chim - Don't Help Me

Chapter 28

The lights are blinding, flashing past my face one by one as I stride down the corridor. I don't know where I'm going, but I'm sure as hell not sitting here and waiting for Cheryl anymore. I turn away from her room, my head is much too blurred for me to go in there now, I will only say something hurtful. And so I keep walking, purposefully, though I have no idea where I'm headed to.

I stride strongly, each step even more forceful than the next, keeping my eyes firmly on the ground to avoid any distractions. I am just about to walk out the main entrance when I feel myself being pushed over, a sharp pain shooting up my side

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry, can I..." he pauses for a moment "Kimberley?"

I look up to find his eyes piercing into mine, questioning.

"Justin? What are you doing back here?" He frowns, drawing attention to the bag in his left hand.

"I told you, if you had to stay I was going to bring you some clothes..."

"Oh yeah, right," I stutter. "... Thanks."

We just stand there, staring at each other. I don't know what I'm waiting for. For him to say something? Apologize maybe? Or is my niggling feeling right? Is he mad, wanting to hurt me? He sighs exasperatedly, reaching his arm holding the bag towards me.

"Look, I think I should go. Here, tell me when you are coming home yeah?"

"Yeah." I breathe out as I take the bag.

"Do you think you'll be back soon? Or are you going to stay?" He asks, head bowed and hands in back pockets, as if he has no right to be asking me, which he doesn't.

I pause for a moment, do I even want to go home? Do I want to leave her, battered and weak? Can I leave her?

"I think... I think I'm going to stay a little longer Justin." I hear myself say.

"I can't just leave her."

"Right." His eyes bore unto mine suddenly, "And what is the real reason for that Kimberley?"

"I...I don't know."

He nods his head, seemingly expecting that answer.

"I know I have no right." Damn right you don't. "But when you figure it out, get back to me yeah?" Justin reaches out, placing a warm hand on my shoulder.

"I should go. Please, can we talk sometime?" His eyes are pleading, begging for me to hear him out. And no matter how much pent up anxiety I have towards him, how uncomfortable I am, I know that we at least deserve that. A talk.

"Maybe we could talk now, J."

-------

I take a glance at my surroundings. It's busy, yet it has an air of uncertainty about it. A musky smell fills the air, it's not inviting as it should be; just dull walls and uncomfortable seats, people with worry etched onto their faces. I stare into my coffee, blocking out the feeling of his eyes on me, will they be soft and gentle as they were before? Or will they be terrifying, possessive even? He hadn't said a word since we sat down, and part of me is glad. I just need time.

It seems he doesn't get this message though as he places his hand on top of mine, beckoning me to talk to him, make some kind of contact.

"Kimberley." He starts. "You know we need to talk as much as I do."

I bow my head, staring at our hands. The gesture once seemed so simple, so natural, so comforting. Now, now I can't help but see the hands that are covered in irrefutable sins, tainted more with every blow he landed on my body.