Desperate Need (Completed)

Chapter 10

I have not heard from Ashleigh since her message yesterday morning. It's now 8:00 Friday night.

My mind has been consumed by her whereabouts and if she is ok for the last 36 hours.

I drove past her address this afternoon, nothing looked out of the ordinary.

I sent another message to her this morning, 'Ash, are you coming in today?' And then another one this afternoon, 'Ash please just let me know you are ok.'

My brain is beginning to go into overdrive and my concentration on anything else is zero.

I burnt dinner. I washed the dishes in cold water. I made a mess of my kitchen. I forgot to press 'go' on the washing machine. Stella came by this evening to check on me because I'd not been replying to her messages all day, I didn't even realize she had sent me any. She told me I looked awful and must be getting sick so to get some rest and she would check on me over the weekend. She kissed me goodbye and told me she loves me. I couldn't respond.

I sit on the couch and my leg taps.

I go to the kitchen and my brain blanks out.

I can't sit still.

I can't stop.

I. Just. Can't.

My addiction is screaming her.

Telling me I've fucked everything up.

Telling me I'm a loser and I'll never be happy again.

Telling me if I can't have her I'm nothing.

Then the monster wakes up, his claws scratching on the inside of my head like nails on a blackboard and he whispers to me that if I can't have her, no one should have her.

I feel a darkness beginning to take me over.

Slowly it is seeping from the deepest recess of my brain through my arteries like droplets of radiation leaked into a river. I can feel it moving through my body like a disease hell bent on destroying me slowly and painfully.

And deep down inside it's telling me that I deserve this for what I've done.

Knock, knock.

Stella must be back for something. Maybe she's going to abandon me too.

I guzzle down the last third of my beer and place the empty bottle on the dining table as I leave the lounge room and walk through to the corridor. Down the hallway I can see the dull silhouette of someone through the frosted glass, but something tells me it isn't Stella.

'Stella has a key,' my inner voice reasons. 'She would have simply let herself in already.'

Reaching out to open the door I wonder who would be visiting me at this time of night and flick the porch light on.

"Hi Mal." The voice is quiet, almost a whisper, and so very sad as I open the door.

It takes me a moment of standing in the doorway with my mouth agape for the gravity of the situation to register. I know it's her, she's standing on my front veranda just like she did weeks ago, but this time her face is bruised, as is most of her skin that is exposed. A small cut that's just developing into its healing stages forms a line down her bottom lip just to the left of centre. Her eyes look slightly swollen still, as does her lip and a section on her cheek.

"Ash? What happened?" My voice escapes my mouth as quietly as hers did and with the same tone of sadness, shock, and something that feels like a deep discomfort for some reason.