Date: Sat, 14 Oct 2000 23:05:09 -0700 From: David Cross Subject: the-dance-of-death The usual disclaimers apply. If you're not supposed to be reading this, or you don't like reading about gay characters in stories, then I would wonder what the hell you were doing still looking at this. This story is 'darker' than my others ("Cameron" and "Shane and Robin"); it's going to involve some heavy-duty stuff, so for the faint of heart, have the antacids and beta-blockers ready. The Dance of Death - Part 1 =========================== I sat on the bed in my friend Jonathan's apartment and idly noted the time. 10:31 PM. My mind was still in a daze; I'd been through a lot earlier tonight. Barely two hours ago... =-=-=-= "Joshua, we can't keep going on like this!" I yelled. "What do you mean, we can't? Daniel, We just need to get along better, that's all." I had sighed. "Joshua, we keep getting into these spats over and over and over and over!" "So? They're small things!" "Small!? You mean like the time I found out the money I gave you to pay the Hydro bill, you took and blew on grass?" "Ok, that was a mistake, but..." "No, Joshua. No more buts. I've had it. This is one argument too many in the dozens we've had since I moved here! I'm breaking up with you, and I'm leaving!" "BITCH!" I didn't even feel it. Next thing I knew, I was on the floor. Dazedly, I realized Joshua had slapped me with enough force to make me lose my balance. I struggled for words. "What the f-" "You ungrateful slut!" "You, calling ME a slut? Get real, man. I'm outta here." With that, I had picked myself up off the floor, walked into the bedroom, grabbed my suitcase and started throwing all my clothes into it. It depressed me to realize that after nearly four months of living together, all I had to show for such a relationship was the clothes I had with me, and a couple of books. Everything else was Joshua's, as I had moved into his place with just a suitcase and my books to my name. Before I could zip the suitcase shut, I felt my head being viciously yanked back by my hair. Joshua's cold voice was incisive. "If you don't unpack that suitcase, you're going to regret this." "Regret leaving you, you fucking psycho?!" "That's it!" He threw me onto the bed... and I began screaming for mercy barely a half minute later. =-=-=-= The sharp pain I felt in my butt brought me back to the present. Yeah, I'm damaged goods. Beaten and raped by my ex-boyfriend. Jeez, what a way to go... =-=-=-= I lay on the bed, with my blood staining the sheets. I numbly stared at the ceiling as Joshua stood over me, his appearance distorted by my hazy vision. "That felt good, you little slut. But I'm gonna go clean myself up, 'cause you made a mess all over me and these sheets. So you just lie there like a good little bitch, and I'll think of what else I can have fun with." I could have sworn I saw an expression of pure evil cross Joshua's face. I heard the shower start running in the bathroom; I was too drained of energy to do anything except lay on the bed, bawling my eyes out. By the time the shower stopped, I had progressed, if you can call it that, from bawling to merely sniffling as the pain continued to radiate from my pelvis through my entire body. Joshua stepped into the bedroom for a second, and then seemed to change his mind about something. He said, "I'm gonna go out for a bit. I don't think you're going anywhere, so I'm just gonna leave you where you are, and you can clean yourself up. Next thing I might use is that hot mouth of yours!" As soon as I heard the door slam, I began to slowly try and heave myself off the bed. My first attempt was spectacularly successful yet extremely painful; I'd managed to collapse in a heap on the floor after falling out of the bed. I tried to push myself up, but my arms shivered like leaves in the wind. I whimpered like a baby as I half-crawled, half-dragged my ass into the bathroom. I somehow managed to struggle into the shower, and turned on the water full-force. Every movement was a monument to pain. It felt like a thousand jackhammers hit me everytime I shifted my body. At first, when I stared into the drain, it seemed like the water had gotten red food-coloring in it. After about 5 minutes of this blood-red flow of water hypnotizing me, it began to lighten in color and eventually go clear. My rectum had stopped bleeding, but I was sure I had sustained severe injuries in that area. My focus began to return, and it clicked in what a stroke of luck I had been granted. I needed to start moving, and moving fast. Adrenalin began coursing through my body as I soaped myself down, washed myself, and then shut off the shower. Pausing only to towel myself off vigorously as though attempting to scrub the contamination of the rape from my body, I stormed back into the bedroom, reached into my suitcase, liberated boxers, socks, a shirt and a pair of pants. I then zipped up the suitcase, momentarily experiencing a surge of anger at my torn clothing not two feet away from the blood stain on the sheets. All in all, barely fifteen minutes had passed since Joshua had departed to gloat over the way he had savaged my body to try and prove his dominance in our now-shredded relationship. I nipped over to the elevator, hit the down button and prayed Joshua wasn't on his way back up. The 10 second wait gave me a chance to take stock. Wallet, keys, money, suitcase... I had everything. The bong! of the elevator brought my focus back. My heartbeat surged as I waited for the moment of reckoning. Would I be dragged back to that lair for more abuse, or would it be my dash for freedom? The elevator doors opened - and no-one was there! I laughed like a madman as I dashed inside, thumbed the button for the parking level, and rejoiced in the rapid descent of the elevator. Two minutes later, with a squeal of my car's tires, I was rushing to get far away from the horror I had experienced that night. After about half an hour of driving around Vancouver, I'd ended up downtown somehow. I parked on a side street, and all of a sudden the events of the night overflowed the dam that held those memories away. I'd been operating on adrenalin, and I was beginning to lose the sharp edge it gave me. I began sobbing for the second time that night. After a few minutes, I regained some semblance of normality, and I realized I needed to get to a phone and talk to a friend who I knew lived downtown. "Jonathan?" "Daniel?! Oh my god, it's been ages since we've talked! Where've you been?" "Man, I need a big favor. Like, huge." "Hey, man, I can't give you my firstborn since I don't have kids, but I'll try to help." I could imagine the grin on his face as he joshed me. "Nah, I just need somewhere to stay for the night. Can you help?" "Oh, shit. You and Joshua had a big blow-up, eh?" "Yeah, you could say. I'll tell you more later. I also need to stash my car somewhere safe." "You can use the stall this place assigned me. I don't even own a car, so it's like, what a waste. Anyway, come on by, sounds like you need some help from a friend!" I silently concurred as I hung up the phone and got rolling. Jonathan was one of my few friends. We'd known each other since I was in high school in Vancouver. We'd kept in touch when my parents had relocated to the Interior of BC, near Kamloops, and when I came back to go to university, we were able to see each other again, but I'd been neglecting our friendship lately, since I'd been living with Joshua. He wasn't gay, or at least he claimed not to be, but I could have sworn there was a slight wistfulness in his eyes when he had seen myself and Joshua together. Was he sad that a girl wasn't like that with him, or did he want a man? In any case, he'd not made one move on me, ever. When I blurted out I was gay, a couple weeks after I'd started classes, he'd just grabbed a beer and toasted me. Nice guy, eh? Some minutes later, I was standing in front of Jonathan's apartment door, waiting for him to answer my knock. The door opened, and his grin rapidly faded as he assessed my condition. "Good grief! You look like death warmed over!" I realized my face must have looked awful. He let me in, and I unceremoniously dumped all my stuff in the center of his living room. He came up beside me, and put his hands on my shoulders. "Want to talk?" Poor guy. I literally jumped and backpedalled away from him as fast as I could. Somehow I landed on his couch, hyperventilating. "Please, don't do that... oh God, you don't want to know what happened to me tonight." The realization dawned on Jonathan's face as his lips compressed and a steely gaze fixed upon me. "Did that bastard rape you?!" I could only nod. "FUCK!" I flinched, startled at the expostulation. Jonathan continued: "I figured you guys had broken up or had a bad fight when you called. But I did *not* expect my friend's boyfriend to do... this! Has he ever hit you or done anything like this to you before?" I weakly replied, "No. Tonight was the first time he ever got violent. It was because I told him I was leaving and couldn't stand the petty arguing and fighting anymore." "Jesus. We should call the cops and have him thrown in jail!" "We can't." "Why not?! You don't want to charge him, man?" "It's not that. It's just... I cleaned myself up because I felt so dirty lying in a pool of my own blood." I put my head in my hands, and although Jonathan probably couldn't have heard me, he had to see my shoulders shake as I cried softly. He understood the implications. "No evidence. Shit. Well, we'll nail his ass some other way. I promise you that." I lifted my head. "Yeah, I hope so. Look, I just want to get something clear, Ok? Just don't take this personally, but don't touch me tonight. I don't think I could deal with being touched by another man right now, I'm sorry." I probably sounded truly pathetic. Here was my friend, my savior in time of need, and I didn't want him to even put his hand on my shoulder in support. Jonathan just nodded and said, "I'm sorry about.. well, before. I just wasn't thinking. Do you want some tea?" Gratefully, I accepted a steaming mug of that liquid which, to me, would have been worth its weight in gold if it actually cost that much. As I sipped slowly, a sense of calm began to envelop me. I knew it was probably transitory, but it felt good to have that peaceful feeling. All too soon, the tea was gone. The stress of the night rapidly overtook me, and I realized how stiff and sore my body felt. My butt felt better than before, but I knew it was going to feel pretty bad for the next while. I spoke up. "Jonathan, could I impose on you and sleep in your bed? I really, really need to sleep on something resembling a real bed. I feel so worthless. Here I am begging for help and kicking you out of your own bed." "Daniel, I was about to offer you the bed. And don't you dare beat yourself up like this. I think you're a fine, intelligent, and worthy friend. Now keep that in your mind as you drift off to dreamland. Ok?" I grinned. "Ok. Where will you sleep?" "Ah, just on that couch you're sitting on." "Oops." "Oh, relax. Besides, I'm sitting pretty in this chair." "Yeah. But I should get to bed. I hate to say this, because I know how you must feel to hear about it, but... my whole body really hurts, and I've got to get rest." "It's all right. You just go on and get to sleep." =-=-=-= Memory is a powerful thing, but it doesn't take that long to catalog events when you literally have no room for emotion. Joshua had killed something within me. Or, if he hadn't outright killed it, he had snuffed it out for a time. I would soon realize that I'd lost the ability to love another man... or had I? I looked at the clock again. 10:40 PM. I nestled myself under the sheets and welcomed the oblivion that beckoned me.