'Never lasting' prt-1

Wilbur's problems are solvable, but biting is not. Clarisse thinks she is the cure he needs to stop this bad habit. Is she what he really needs or will he scare her away, like the others?

He glanced at me from across the room, a light smile plastered on his face. My insides tingled and my face grew hot, but I was freezing. Then he did the unthinkable, got up to sit beside me. I heard her warnings, they were rattling inside my head, he’s abusive, he bites, he doesn’t care, he rapes girls. I pushed those treacherous thoughts from my mind, hiding them from my view, I couldn’t dare let the truth be seen by my eyes. He reached for my cold hand; I stood up. I trembled very lightly when his smile faded.

               “What did Shelby tell you?” his voice was sweet, rich with his perfect British accent.

               “I-I, she told me- she scared me…” I stuttered and fumbled for scraps of words that fell through my mind.

               “Oh, Clarisse, don’t listen to her, she’s just jealous. She doesn’t want me to be happy, she’s mad that we aren’t together anymore.” He stood up at his words. I looked up into his eyes, hoping to see the future, but all I saw was dust, and pain.

 

               I awoke with a start; my mind was killing me. Wilbur had let me slide into bed with him last night, but our conversation was a blur.

               “Mmmm….” Wilbur was starting to stir; I couldn’t wake him up as well. Ever so carefully, I proceeded to exit the bed. Panadol crawled out from under the bed, stretching and yawning. I snatched her up before she decided to meow her head off. Food. Bowl. Cat. Eat. I fed the little black panther, petting the kitten with great affection. I couldn’t believe she was going to be a year old soon, that meant I couldn’t call her a kitten anymore.

               “Is it good Panadol?” I whispered into her ear. The house was asleep, peaceful, and quiet. I enjoyed the pleasant surroundings, not a very busy neighborhood to disturb the houses slumber. Panadol’s low purr fueled my hectic mind, giving me the strength I needed. I walked to the couch fiddling with the coverings. I plopped down, shifting my gaze to the picture on the wall. Above it was the words ‘HOME SWEET HOME’ and the picture was of me, Wilbur, Anvil, and Shelly. Anvil, the 3-year-old cat I lost to panleukopenia, was sitting on Wilbur’s lap. She had her favorite hoodie, the one I bought her the first Christmas I had her. Shelly, my German Shepherd, held a stick in her mouth. She was obsessed with sticks.

               Wilbur and I had just met, so we decided to take the animals for a boat ride. My friend, Karl, had taken the picture using my first ever camera. I was so excited to finally meet Wilbur, and a year later we fell in love. At the time, I didn’t know Wilbur had problems. When I met his mom, she told me everything, the real truth. Then Shelby told me the same things, just her view, which terrified me. But soon after, me and Wilbur sorted things out. The biting he did was the hard thing to deal with, him constantly biting me, leaving bruises all over me. I guessed he had forgotten what the word stop meant, I told him multiple times he was hurting me but he kept on. Shelby suggested leaving him, I just couldn't, that would be so rude of me. That wasn’t going to stop his biting, he needed me, he was depending on me. I couldn’t just leave him when we’d gotten so far. I started to cut contact with Shelby and focused on the situation.

               I sat on the couch, pondering about what I should do. Wilbur walked into the room; his sleepy face killed me yet again.

               “Hello pretty.” The voice of an angel called out to me, that was why I stuck to him. Why I clung to him, like a leach.

               “Mornin’, what did you dream about?” I asked, straitening my blouse.

               “can’t remember, really. What about you?” he rubbed his eyes and yawned. I thought about the actual dream I had. I couldn’t tell him that.

               “Some cat that I saved from abusive people.” I told him. He looked around, as if I didn’t say anything. He left the room the conversation officially over. I laid down on the couch, my mind circling the dream.

               “Clarise, you didn’t do laundry!” I rolled my eyes.

               “Coming!” I got up and rushed to the kitchen.

To be continued...

Author's Note

This is only part one, sorry for the inconvenience!