Page 133 of The Kiss Of Death
“What is this?” What was he doing to himself?
Levi’s eyes became dark as he twitched his lips backward and turned around.
“Like you didn’t know,” he spat.
“Why do you have this!” I screamed. “Answer me!”
“After all these years, open your fucking eyes, Mother.” He slammed the door in my face, locking himself in. “I should leave this shithole!”
I banged on the door. “Levi! Open the door!”
He turned up the volume on his stereo, and as I descended the stairs, I tripped and fell. I found Patrice laughing, opening another beer and smoking a cigarette. I told him not to smoke inside, but he never listened.
“You’re such a goof. What’s up with him?”
“He has burns, scars,” I said, tapping my fingers on the stairs.
Patrice put down his beer. “Did he say where he got them?”
I shook my head.
“The kid probably did it to himself; he’s deranged. Probably has the same sickness as you.” He pointed up.
“He’s not deranged, and I’m not sick!”
My brain was wired differently; that didn’t make me unlovable—or did it? I hated myself. I hated who I became.
“And who’s taking care of this house with a real job, huh? You inherited millions from your dead-ass parents and don’t know what to do with it. You don’t have friends because no onelikes you. I’m the only one staying with you, knowing who you truly are. Don’t forget that. I accepted you. I know you’ll never leave me. Levi needs me. He needs security, right? You can’t do anything on your own.” He gave me a soft kiss on my forehead before scratching his cigarette on the table. “Want to blow me? That would make you feel better.”
“The burns on his skin, it’s cigarette burns,” I said. “But Levi doesn’t smoke. I’d know if he did. Do you think it’s—”
“Stop with this kid! I told you I want a fucking blow job! Can you be nice and do it, instead of annoying me with your nonsense!”
I backed away. I didn’t like when he raised his voice at me—his shouts became a tempest of purple storms. My parents raised their voices just like that. Why can’t I do anything right? What’s wrong with me? Patrice reached toward me.
“Sorry, babe, I shouldn’t have raised my voice, but you made me do it. You pushed me. It’s your fault. I need to be satisfied, you understand?”
His words didn’t match the vibes he put off, but he understood what it was like not to belong to this world. That’s why he was drinking. To escape this world too. We bonded through our traumas, exchanging our stories like kids do with Pokemon cards. He was a charming man; he used to love my autism, and was so supportive. He accepted Levi, sharing the same interests as him. A relationship is hard work, the books said, and that was normal.
But Diana warned me never to believe what people said, to always look out for actions. But why would someone lie? Why would someone’s words not match their attitude?
I don’t know how to stop feeling so powerless. I often felt the urge to put an end to it all, to silence the pain once and for all.
“Plus, it’s not like that kid didn’t deserve it.” Patrice chuckled. He had consumed more beers than usual. On his day off, he always drank more.
“What?” I asked, and he bit his lips, leading my hand on top of his pants so I’d stroke him.
The only times men treated me like a normal being was when I fulfilled their needs, even if I didn’t want to. Only then did I feel accepted and seen like a normal human being. I wasn’t mean. I wasn’t coldhearted. The world just wasn’t designed for me.
“What did you say?” I asked him. “You think Levi deserves this?”
“Stop yelling,” he complained.
“Pa-Patrice,” I stammered.
“Pa-Patrice,” he imitated me, laughing. “You’re so dumb. I was thinking of turning that music room into a gaming room for my bros. You said that Dalia will never come back here, right?”
I froze. I’d given her the Cigno Nero in our last session. She was ready. I had nothing more to teach her. I couldn’t play anymore. Music was my whole life, and without it, I was nothing. I’ve been giving away everything I own lately. I want to disappear; I want the pain to stop. But everything has to be in order; it’ll be my last symphony.
