Day 158

Things weren’t always bad. Marc wasn’t always dying, and I wasn't always so anxiety stricken. Things were good before all of this started to happen. As good as they were ever going to be. Sometimes I could forget he was sick. Sometimes life was partially normal. Standing in the kitchen of my moms house I stared awkwardly into the mirror she handed me. My hair seemed to glow and shimmer, pure sunlight from the larger window hitting the fibers of hair I had left. I wasn’t completely bald, but my hair was short. Very short. “I love it.” I smiled a bit, feeling my eyes start to swell a bit with some tears. My moms stood silent for a fair moment before placing a hand on my shoulder, giving me a reassuring smile. I just hoped Marc would like him. He had a strong inferiority complex, and I had the sick gut wrenching feeling he would take my display the wrong way entirely. I just wished for him to be happy.

Taking Buster and my gift I decided to go home, and set up something nice for once. Calling Marc, I told him I had a surprise, and asked him to stop by for my birthday, which he agreed to happily. Throwing my phone onto the couch I gave Buster a look and he stared blankly. “Are you ready?” I said wondering if he would ever understand what it was I was saying. Throwing on an old T-shirt I slipped into my Toms and off I was. I needed to the essentials for this special get together after all. Marc had to be at the Hospital tomorrow morning for Chemo, so I wanted to do something special for him while I could.

Swallowing hard at the thought I decided I would try to not use the word “while”. It sounded limiting.  Grabbing my bag I sighed for a brief moment and made my way downstairs and out onto the street. Glancing around I felt my nerves start to get the better of me. Running my hand across my head slowly I froze for a brief moment, letting everything sink in. My hair was in fact gone.

Pacing around the front entrance of my building I looked around, noticing I was catching the attention of several groups of people, people in cars, animals even. All wondering what I was going on about. Kicking my foot into the pavement slowly I tried to calm myself, but there was no use. Taking it upon myself I crossed the street, ignoring the on coming traffic and getting handed the bird from more than enough people, I wanted to do what it was I set out to complete. Licking my lips smoothly I jogged over to the corner store, and stared around anxiously pacing around outside the building.

Stepping inside everyone gave me a quick look over, before continuing on with their day. I slowly slumped over to the back corner of the store and scanned the clear chilling rooms as I contemplated what alcohol I wanted to but.

“Look at it… it’s so UGLY...” My jaws tightened. “Yeah.. No one could like someone who looks like that. It’s so pathetic really.” Another voice chimed in. I pressed my fingers against the glass slowly and looked over, seeing my tormentors to be two woman of age, their hair curly and silver in the fluorescent lighting. They caught a glimpse of me staring and gave a sweet wave, as if nothing was said on my behalf. So I bought the first pack of beer I could lay my hands on and left.

Nervously trailing down the street I caught wind of a few jokes people were making as I passed by. “She’s so hideous.” “Look at those freckles! They’re everywhere.” “What was she thinking? She’s hardly even wearing clothes it seems..” Each one pinched a new nerve as I tried to walk faster, the evening sun already starting to set quicker than I had imagined. I tugged at the knot in my throat fiercely as I went to cross the street. Paying no attention to the left of me I jerked back frantically seeing the bright yellow skin of a Taxi almost pile into me. The driver stopped and leaned over the open window to scream something fierce. “What the hell are you doing? Watch where you’re going you fatass. Maybe if you weren’t so round I wouldn’t have almost hit you!”

The infamous words.  

Fat. Fat. Fat. Fat. Fat. Fat. Fat. Fat. Fat. Fat. Fat. Far. Fat.

* * *

“Hello?” I heard the rigorous tapping at the door as it opened. I never understood the point of knocking if someone was just going to walk in, but at that point in time I didn’t understand much of anything. I didn’t want to understand anything. Covering my face with the sleeve of my sweater I threw my arm up and shielded my eyes. I was sitting alone in the corner of the balcony, legs sprawled out in front of me, blood dripping on top of that. Marc maneuvered through the rooms, following the sound of Busters barking until he spotted me, crying and violently shaking. I wasn’t exactly sure how to react, and neither was he I’m sure.

“Isabelle Noir, what the hell are you doing..?” he choked out. Crouching onto his knees he took off his coat and threw it over my shoulders and forcibly grabbed my arms. Pulling me upwards the warm red liquid slid down the extend of my legs and fat, until it slowly dripped onto the floor. I couldn’t answer his question. I could only cry. He  walked me into the bathroom, ignoring the trail of blood I was leaving and threw me into the shower, turning on the hot water. It pelted my skin like flaming shards, but I wasn’t going to protest. He grabbed several towels and threw them onto the floor, and then did the same with my shirt. I frantically flinched away and went to knock him in the face but he caught my wrist and wrestled it to my side, water running his pants.

“Damnit Isabelle…” he mumbled underneath his breath. The bleeding had stopped, the steam and water dancing across my skin as I stood half naked in the shower. Marc took a seat on the toilet and grabbed a cigarette from his pocket, and lit it. Only this time, he inhaled the deadly toxins.

“What are you doing?!” I screamed, reaching out from underneath the water I grabbed his hand and flicked the cigarette into the tub. He paused for a short moment. He wasn’t angry, he wasn’t upset, he was in fact disappointed.

“I should ask you the same.” he started, bending over to hand me a towel. I let my eyes widen in awe, but no words came out. He exhaled a large bit of excess smoke and stood, towering over me about a foot. He grabbed my hands and led me into the bedroom, kicking a spare shirt I had lying around over to me. I frantically pulled it over my head and started to wheeze in confusion, and pure embarrassment. The cuts and bruises started to throb as I slowly shuffled over to the bed.

“You cut your hair.” he said, as if everything had finally come full circle in his mind. He stood, on the opposite end of the bed, back turned to the balcony as he gaze at only my hair. I slowly ran my fingers nervously through the small amount I had left on my head and quickly flicked my eyes away from his own. My anxiety was through the roof. No words, no nothing. I was feeling everything at once.

“Heh,” he flashed me a weak smile and crawled onto the mattress. Making his way over to me he spread his legs out once he sat on the edge, and pulled me between them, hands placed on my hips. I covered my face and shook my head trying to ignore the burning sensation the touch of his hands gave me.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry… I’m sorry.” I groaned. Everything was quiet for a short while, before I felt his hand extend up to the side of my face, and his bony fingers rested along my cheek.

“Why? I like it.” he smiled. I rubbed the tears away from my eyes and frantically started scratching at my face, wanting nothing more than to rip it off.

“Hey hey hey… calm down. Calm down.” he grabbed my arms and pinned them against my side, wrapping his legs together behind me so I was completely unable to move. I let the tears stream freely down my face uncomfortable as  my eyes locked on his. “Why are you so upset? What happened today? How was your visit with your mom?” I just shook my head and stared past him out the window. The sun was nearly set, and the evening was ruined. He raised a hand and sighed tracing a thumb against my cheek. “I love your hair… you cut it for me I’m guessing?” he flashed me a bright smile, the outer edges of his lips rolling into a deep grin as he stared at my bright orange hair. “It makes you look fantastic. Your freckles are able to work their true beauty on your face. Which is more than perfect.” he said with a bit of a chuckle.

Without realizing it, I had stopped crying. The shaking continued but to a lesser extent, and my legs felt as if they were about to give out. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair--which was far shorter than mine. Giving me a weary look he unwrapped his legs and grabbed me, throwing me onto the mattress. Placing his lips against mine he forcefully moved his lips , making my entire body burn and wrench underneath his touch.

“Marc stop.. wait… wait wait wait.” I said biting my lip as I pushed him a little to hard away from me. He smirked to himself and dove his nose into the crease of my neck, hands already tracing my stomach lightly I felt each movement bring nothing but discomfort. “Marc I’m fat… I am fat. I don’t want to do this I’m ugly… I can’t do this. Not yet… I can’t.” I turned my head away as he placed his lips against my bare throat and felt the waterworks start to accumulate. My breathing intensified and I stared at him, my eyes raging with sheer panic. He lifted his head and nodded lightly, pressing his forehead against my own. Taking a free hand he lifted my chin and distanced his lips only a few inches away from mine.

“First… you, are not fat. You do indeed have fat. In my condition, I can only WISH I had fat. But you, yourself, are not fat. That is impossible. Secondly, you do not have much fat at all. You are completely normal, and perfect in every way.” our lips grazed one anothers as he finished his speech.. “Isabelle you are perfect. Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise…” I was completely and inescapable intoxicated by every touch, every movement, and every word he spoke to me. Running his fingers through my hair slowly he flashed me a deep grin and closed his eyes, pressing his head against mine once again. “Don’t think about it… don’t you ever think about it…” he mumbled under his breath, which I assumed was directed towards my unspoken thoughts. My mind started to race as he slid his arms underneath my shirt, vigorously ripping off of he wasted no time getting me undressed and placing his lips against the base of my neck.

For the first time, in a long time, I let go of everything. I let go of my insecurities, my bad thoughts, my worries, my obligations to the universe, I let go of everything. The cuts on my thighs didn’t burn, his fingers felt consummate on my skin as he drove himself into me, and my brain wasn’t flipping through channels every five seconds for an excuse. I was able to free  myself, which was the only thing I ever wanted with Marc. He roughly arched himself forwards and pressed our foreheads together with ease, biting down hard on his lip as he did so.

This moment, was the only moment I knew... or hoped, wouldn’t come with a price.