Chapter 259: Emmets a weapon

* Very distressing bits read with care 

I took two tablets of Lorazapam. I wasn’t sure why. I had protested that I didn’t like Bezo’s but Emmet was persistent and I didn’t like the look of the needle Elizabeth brandished if I didn’t swallow the blue pills with a paper cup of water. I was told that they wouldn’t make me sleep just relax me slightly but I knew that was a lie. It seemed like good idea really though. If you wake up and find that you can’t deal with anything you might as well go back to sleep again. The trouble was I never wanted to wake up so when I felt the outlines of consciousness inside my head I tried desperately to stay under. After all Emmet would be gone too now, he would have crept out when I was lost somewhere to unconsciousness. I could feel the tears coming back before I even opened my eyes and my bottom lip quivered no matter how much I tried to stop it. I rolled my body up tighter on the mattress and tried to float away again before I could remember anything else. Like how the walls of the ECA looked or how I didn’t even have control over the lights. How I weighed over nighty pounds and now had something alien shoved up inside of me… I could feel the tears escape under my closed eyes.

“Please don’t wake up,” I whispered to myself begging my senses to become numb again, for the Lorazapam to have a last minute sedating effect, for my lungs to stop forcing the air in and out of me or for my heart to wither and die. It wasn’t so likely anymore now though, I was bigger and things where working, death seemed farther away - unless I did something about it.

After another five minutes I stopped fighting and I let my body open my eyes to the world.  After I had taken the tablets I had started to fall asleep propped up in the corner of the room but Emmet had led me over to the mattress that I now took up a corner of. I had moved in my sleep from one end of the mattress to the other witch scared me. The movement had been out of my control and I didn’t like it, what else had I done.

“Are you feeling a bit better now honey?” I jumped startled by the sound of his voice in what I assumed would be a deserted room and twisted around on the mattress so I could see him. It made no sense for him to still be there. I was glad that he was but he should have gone like Esmee had and almost strangely I wanted that at the same time. I didn’t deserve him, or her, or anything.

“I’m doing paperwork,” Emmet explained obviously noticing something in my face as I watched him, “Esmee said that it was a good place to get things done. She caught up on all of hers last night when you were sleeping.  I have done quite a bit too.”

“Can I sit next to you?” I asked stupidly the words spilling from my mouth before I engaged my brain. There was something about him that made me feel safe. He should have gone, he shouldn’t have been wasting his time on me, but I was selfishly happy. He eased my pain but it wasn’t something that I could understand not even after all the time I had been there and that made it hurt. If he had turned around and pushed me around or kicked me to the floor, or even fucked me against the wall I could have understood it. It might have even helped. I could then become numb. There was only one thing that was worse than not feeling a thing, and that was feeling everything.

“Of course you can. I even have another one of those hands to hold if you want it,” I moved from the mattress slowly and took my position next to him taking hold of his hand in mine. I tried to breathe steadily to stop more tears from taking me. I wasn’t even completely sure why I wanted to cry just that I did. I always did but no matter what he said tears caused trouble. It scared people into sedating each other. I could still feel the heavy stiffness in my muscles and the sedation to my brain like it was trying to work in grey smog.

I sniffed involuntary as the great waves of repressed tears made me shudder. Everything was too much – I had to stop it at any cost, even his. I took a deep breath and squeezed by bad hand hard around Emmets, the pain swelled inside me as every nerve ending sent a message to my brain that I was being hurt by someone and my eyes told me that Emmet was doing it. It was what I needed for him to hurt me, for him to hate me. I understood the barriers of abuse, of rape and of hate. I knew so easily how that relationship worked and how it felt beside my body. Kind words and gentle hands never had made sense, however I selfishly and confusingly liked the kind words and the hugs and the cuddles but that didn’t always feel OK.

Emmets face twisted from confused to horrified then angry and as he wrenched his hand from me and held it against his chest like somehow I had hurt him, I breathed hard with a smile on my face the pain causing black dots to explode against my vision. The only thing I felt was physical throbbing, nothing hurt anymore and I didn’t want to cry. Emmet also made sense for the first time. He had hurt me – I saw it.

“That’s enough of that! Don’t you dare use me as a weapon to hurt yourself with!” Emmet shouted regarding me with shock as he got to his feet and walked to the ECA door with his key card ready so he could leave. The emotional pain won again but not enough to completely get rid of the physical and it left me in pure agony giving me no choice but to scream which caught his attention just before he left so he turned around letting the ECA door click closed again.

“Mi, I don’t know what to do to help, I want to but if you’re going to use me as a weapon to hurt yourself with I am what is making the ECA un-safe and I have to leave. It’s either that or I restrain you and I inject you with another dose of Lorazapam. Talk to me, tell me how it feels. What you need from me.”

“It feels like I’m on fucking fire. It feels like my brain is pulling itself in ten different ways and its ripping apart along the fault lines. It feels like someone has got in there car and is running me over repeatedly. Someone has put there had through my chest pulled out my heart and squeezed it while another person is using my intestines for a skipping rope and my bladder for a trampoline and I don’t know what to do to stop it!” I yelled before breaking into sobbing and clutching at my tummy where the pain seemed to intensify the most. 

“Well that’s really horrible and I am really sorry that you feel like that but unfortunately I haven’t got a pain killer that will make it all go away. Mental health doesn’t really work like that honey. Still that is not an excuse for you to use me as something to hurt yourself with. Now if there is something I can do. Something to distract you…”

“How about you kick me around the floor until you break my ribs, or hold me by the hair and bash my head against the wall, or if that isn’t to your taste, how about we get a little more perverted. How about you force feed me water or coffee then not let me use the loo so you can jack off in the corner while I squirm and cry until I pee all over myself, or how about we forget the games and you just hold me against the wall by my throat and fuck me till I bleed. Of course you may like it violent, how about shoving a knife up me” I remembered every time it happened before so clearly inside my head and I remembered not liking it but there was no feeling, only a numbness which was what I needed. Emmet made me feel too much, even if it was a good expense, even if he was good.

 I had been three the first time Joe had loaded me up on juice then locked the bathroom door and told me to hold it or I would be a very bad girl. He had got such a thrill he then did it every week till I was ten; sometimes twice. He came back for a brief encore when I was fourteen after he had got all he could from my mother. He had watched for six painful hours as I begged him in agony; he then rubbed my face in it when my body’s instincts won over. It was brain who liked to watch me chock at his hands while moved violently inside me. He would finish off when I was passed out on the floor then I would wake up disorientated and sore minutes later. He only every used a knife once, I bleed too much and it scared him. He liked the thrill but he didn’t want to be imprisoned for my murder. I prayed for death. 

“So come on Emmet pick your poison because frankly right now it would hurt less than this. I wouldn’t feel it at all and I want the pain to go away, I want it to go away,” I sobbed harder as I watched Emmets face which only served to break my heart further. He was now pale and shaking as he swallowed hard trying to move the tears in his eyes. I had not thought before I had spoken. I had been to hurt to consider his Feelings to. Emmet was nothing like them. He was good and the thought of hurting me the thought if anyone going that to a child made his soul bleed.

“Mi, I have to go for a few minutes OK,” He finally said, his voice sounding strained somewhere in the back of his throat as he talked with his hand in front of his mouth. “I’m not angry at you and I am not abandoning you and I promise I will come back in less than then minutes but I have to step out for a bit.”

With that he was gone. I had finally got exactly what I always wanted. I was alone in the world and I didn’t feel a thing. There was only one thing worse than feeling too much and that was not feeling a thing. I couldn’t win.