As promised, here is what I meant to post last week – severely tweaked but hopefully still enjoyable.
The picture for this week’s episode is from http://www.nationofchange.org from their article Fear of Terrorism is Making Us Crazy
Sometimes it’s good to be of celebrity status. Sometimes having a little bit of money lets you get away with doing things normal people can’t get away with. And then money can sometimes help you try to come to terms with certain things.
Marcus’ mind wandered amongst lots of things as he strolled the halls which he was allowed. His goal tonight was to figure out how best to not do the things that got him in here in the first place. True enough he was mostly self-committed, but that didn’t mean he had been in any less trouble.
It was either here or jail and he didn’t feel like going to jail. What he felt like right now was seeing Val. Yeah, he wasn’t supposed to.
He stood at the intersection of the halls that lead back to where he was allowed to walk and the hallway that led to her room on the other side of the building. Once again he turned right and walked away. Once again he cussed himself out.
Three weeks. He hadn’t seen her for three weeks. He had, however, met Jan. That had actually been an accident; being in the wrong place at the worst possible time.
He thought back on that day that he and Clyde were doing their regular rounds in his area of the complex when Vince ran up to them and pulled Clyde aside. Marcus couldn’t hear the conversation but he saw Clyde’s eyes widen for a split second before he looked at the athlete.
“Sorry, Marksman, we gots ta cut dis here short.” Was the only thing Clyde said as he ushered Marcus back to his room. Being in a hurry, he didn’t notice that he didn’t exactly close the door, so as soon as he was twenty paces away, Marcus exited his room and followed them…
…all the way up to the second floor stairs. The well maintained door wasn’t slow closing, but the men were making so much noise running upstairs that they didn’t hear Marcus running to and entering the stairwell behind them. He followed them at a respectable distance and then stayed at the door, holding it open enough to make sure he could hear or see what was going on.
There was a bit of a commotion coming from the second floor: loud voices almost screaming. He could hear Clyde and Vince, and the voices of others he didn’t recognize. Lastly, he heard a woman yelling, cursing, crying and screaming.
Marcus opened the door wider and peeked out to see what was going on. He saw a figure on the ground being restrained to the best of the orderlies’ abilities – even Clyde and Vince. Two other people, possibly nurses, were standing with syringes ready to sedate the person once the orderlies were able to keep her as still as safety permitted – they didn’t want to break needles or stick the wrong person.
Everything seemed to be getting better – or rather the restrained person was starting to wear down. And then the person looked up and saw him looking at the commotion. That started everything again.
Everything after that happened so fast, looking back Marcus found it hard to remember exactly how they pulled her hands off his throat. But he would always remember the gouges she left him across his face when her nails slammed against his cheek.
That was the day he was told you didn’t stare at or talk to Jan and you absolutely didn’t mention Val.
He grumbled. Everything he thought about was focusing on her. Frustrating. He was getting better at everything but that. He was purging himself – getting and staying clean and sober. He hadn’t wanted to drink or snort or shoot up or anything. He was only getting mad at himself; and since he wasn’t prone to violence off the field he was getting good marks on that too.
Oh damn it all to fucking hell that next thought better not creep up on him.
He started walking faster, his arms swinging forward and back as he moved. Think, think, think! Anything just not …
His mom and sister had been by to see him. Better. He managed to convince his sister not to postpone her wedding. He could get out in time if he towed the line and he was trying his hardest to. No fights, no rule breaking, no nothing bad.
He clenched his fists and started punching the air in front of him. Wide swings, small jabs, upper cuts. Maybe he could beat himself up. But he was already doing that.
He turned right again. He lost track of how many times he had come upon the intersection and how many times he forced himself to turn right.
Maybe it would be better if he had company with him. Clyde’s constant rambling helped him not to think. Maybe he could go looking for one of the orderlies – it was Clyde’s day off but maybe he could talk one of the others to sub. Only thing is it would be on the other side of the building, which is where he was trying to avoid.
“You act like you’re in fucking love you damned bastard.”
No, it’s just infatuation. He didn’t know her, hadn’t interacted with her. She was something he couldn’t have so he wanted it. What did Doc tell him? Think of something else he wanted that wasn’t easily reachable, that was a challenge and let that replace her. That’s what he had to do. He could do it too. Right?
He stopped. That’s the second time he heard that voice and it wasn’t his.
When he looked around he saw he was where he wasn’t supposed to be. Shit! Time to go back.
He turned around and stopped.
There was another noise. Soft and breathy.
He smirked. He knew the sound of sex. No one was allowed that kind of relationship here, but someone was having fun.
Curiosity got the better of him so he turned around again and started following the noise. If the halls didn’t have such great acoustics he would have missed it, as quiet as it was.
He moved as quietly as he thought a mouse would, listening to the noise and getting overly aroused. Whoever it was wouldn’t mind him standing outside the door and having a little fun himself.
Except, it was her door.
His brown eyes instantly turned green and he wasn’t hot anymore.
What the fuck? He wasn’t allowed to touch her, to interact with her and someone was fucking her? Oh hell no! Marcus quietly went to the little window and as quietly as he could slid it open. What he saw made his blood freeze.
It wasn’t the fact that Val was lying on the bed. It wasn’t that her hands were grasping her sheets tightly in her fists as she moved and moaned. It wasn’t even the fact that she was about to cum that freaked him out.
Any other time watching two women get it on would have had him climaxing himself big time. He knew that the person between her legs was a woman – maybe that’s why she didn’t like his advances. The woman she was with was slender – at least from this angle she looked slender; feminine hands would occasionally brush her long darkish hair to the side as she worked her mouth.
No, what freaked him out, in the pale moonlight shining through the bigger window on the wall was the sight of a dark puddle near Val’s butt. What freaked him out was who was between her legs. No, not who, what.
Wait, no! That can’t be right.
Wrong or right, whatever it was lifted its head and licked lips that were as dark as the spot on the bed. Then it turned its head and looked over at him. Literally. It looked at him: later he would swear he saw … no, that couldn’t be right either. Could it?
It had … red glowing eyes?
He stepped back, slipped and fell down onto his butt when the … whatever it was … was suddenly at the door. He could hear it snarl just under the soft sound that would have sent his head … and probably his heart … reeling.
He got up as quick as he could and ran and kept running until he got to his room. The panic that wrapped itself around him made it hard to enter the room having forgotten Clyde’s instructions on how to work the lock. As soon as he entered he turned on all the lights, pulled the blankets off the bed and tossed them in one of the corners, then haphazardly pushed the bed up against the front door. Quickly and hurriedly making sure that the closet and bathroom doors were open and dark corners were bathed in light, he sat on the sheets and blankets while he stared wide-eyed at the main door.
He didn’t turn to look at anything else. Even when he thought he heard scratching at the window.
What the fuck?
He stayed where he was and when the morning nurse came in to wake him, once she and one of the orderlies was able to enter the room found him like that: still wide eyed-still looking at the door and rocking back and forth in shock.