sticking with Betty…

All this reflecting leaves me a little disinclined to writing: what I really want to do is curl under the covers with my cats and hibernate like a hermit til I feel ready to engage with the big wide world again. I want to sleep and read, walk and take photographs of the majestic beauty I’m surrounded by. Writing is somewhat painful at present. A good many things (I’m haunted by so many as yet unpacked boxes) seem like way too much effort and I can’t be bothered to drum up the energy required to force myself to do them. In a effort to be gentle with myself, I’m not. Which unsettles me somewhat as I’m scared I may never feel better. My ‘chemistry’ is also all over the show at the moment – instead of keeping me stable, my normally reliable medications are doing unpredictable things. The net result – hormone levels are out of whack, I feel inexplicably weird, nauseous and headachy (as was the case this weekend). On the bright side, this could well mean my pituitary is regenerating slowly and some function is returning to my shattered motherboard. Which would mean the meds are throwing me out of balance, overcompensating instead of keeping me level. I’m seeing my trusty endocrinologist on Tuesday so hopefully scientific explanations will be forthcoming. Granted, it could also just as feasibly be all this crying playing havoc with my sodium levels. Anyway.

Bottom line is this: you’re getting more of the writing course Betty story (and yet another angle). Dax is taking me away for a much needed long weekend tomorrow so even less writing is going to happen until I get back. Bear with me, I’ll get my sh*t together eventually…and in the meantime, you get to read more of my strange forays into fiction…

knotted

Bit of a struggle getting in but then I should’ve expected that. Climbing the drainpipe was an surprisingly hairy experience. Of course the window broke but I was wearing gloves and can buy another pane tomorrow. Should be ok. She made it tough though, not letting me in.

C’mon, it wasn’t that hard. You thrive on challenge!

I can hardly see her in the dark, little room but I feel her breath, warm against my left hand. The right circles the light ribbon, laced like a snake through my fingers, around her neck. I loop the ends through and pull, creating tension. Against her slim throat the fabric looks elegant, like a choker. The midnight air vibrates in anticipation.

“Hello! Betty.”

Someone at the door!

You didn’t plan on that, did you? Thought you had this little gig all tied up, neat and pretty. And now? Your heart’s thumping, hands’ sweaty, focus slipping. This is how mistakes happen!

Mind racing, I turn back to Betty. Her eyes are surprised, wide – ready to eat me. I’m starting to sweat. She’s starting to smile. Why is she smiling?

She knows, you fool! She can smell your fear like a dog. Can tell you’re a coward. Hell, I said it before you lily-livered momma’s boy: you can’t do it!

I pull on the cord again, forcing the fabric to bite at her neck. See? I’m not! A tear slides down her cheek but she keeps looking at me. Straight in the eyes, like a challenge. And smiles.

See? Oh I’ll tell you what I see, Mr Cool! She’s not afraid like you. Nope, not one bit! She pities you for being so scared. She can see you’re weak, don’t have it in you, can’t follow through. She’s more man than you’ll ever be!

“Hello… Betty?”

Jesus! Would that f*cking woman go away already! I need time to think, is all. Need some quiet. Got to concentrate! That bloody banging is messing with my head. Focus, dammit! If I falter now, I’ll f*ck the whole thing up!

What a bloody baby! Can’t even get a simple thing like this right, can you? Stop simpering and get on with it! It’s not complicated. Need help? Surely you don’t expect her to do it for you? Good god, you’re a pathetic excuse for a man!

“Betty! Open up!”

Shut up! F*ck! Give me a second. She’s still smiling: she’s ok. Wish I was. Didn’t think it’d be so bloody difficult. How’s this supposed to be fun?

It’s fun – if you’re a real man, John. Fun – if you have balls. Fun – if you just f*cking quit whining and do it already. All you gotta do is pull, for christsakes!

I pull with adrenalin power. Pull so hard material and muscle bunch together in a knot. See? I can! I release the ends with a rush of pride.

Wait… Something’s not right – she’s not supposed to fall, is she?

You idiot!

“Betty…!”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s