30 13.0: Delicious Parties (1/2)
`how many centuries deep is your wound?`
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Tobias scratches his head and holds his hip before glancing at me. Glancing at the disaster my face is as I watch Sierra and Joshua make out on a bed that isn't his or hers.
And it's funny that I feel nothing. My heart seems to have taken a pause mid-beat, not knowing if it should jump in anger and disgust, or just relax (die) in sadness and disappointment.
”That's paradoxical,” Tobias says as Joshua pulls Sierra to his laps by her hips.
I blink away his remark and try not to focus on the tiny details of my situation. I try not to focus on, hey this is your ex-boyfriend and ex-best friend doing the 'shame-shame'. That, hey they're supposed to be hating each other.
And when I'm done failing at not focusing, I realize that those aren't tiny details. Those are the details.
”I'm sorry,” Tobias whispers for some reason but I can't spare the time to reply as I think of ways I could get away with murdering two people at once. I think of bashing their heads dead to the bedpost, slicing their bodies to smithereens and feeding them off to the fishes. Cause this is where our friendship sleeps.
It sleeps with the fishes.
Joshua is peeling off his shirt as Sierra undoes her hair, and I'm so revolted, it takes me my all not to barf. Which makes me wonder, again, what does ghost barf look like? Is it rot manifested with worms or is it stardust?
Cause I might just bring the whole universe down on them.
”They're the reason why,” I say, no longer capable of handling the idea of them together, no longer capable of watching them insult my existence.
”Hey,” Tobias gets closer to me but I'm too rooted in my thoughts to pay attention to him. ”Rose, look at me.”
I glance at him and it hurts to know that it saddens him that I'm agonizing over what they've done to me. He locks my eyes and I almost look away when he subtly shakes his head.
”Don't look away,” he says, his thick eyebrows drawn in concern and his lips pulled down into a frown.
”It's my punishment,” I say and sniff and hate myself for it. ”I'd like to watch them trash my existence and piss on it.”
”No you wouldn't-” Tobias drops Benji, risking having the lovely couple, ravishing each other, to look over and find him. But Tobias knows better. He knows that they're way into each other to notice such a thing. So he holds me.
”Give yourself the mercy of not looking-” He tells me, flushed, with his hair barely held up by the bun. ”Just close your eyes.”
I inhale shakily and bring my unsteady hands to my shower heads for eyes. I glance at Sierra who straddles Joshua and shut my eyes, a hand on my chest.
”Yes,” Tobias says softly and I peel my eyes raw to him, my lips quivering. Tobias' lips part helplessly before he hesitantly wraps his arms around me.
And I feel nothing I swear. I feel nothing at all, I feel nothing but my sobs hurtling out of my mouth and into his chest. And I realize that I'm slowly turning into an insecure mess he's trying to hold still.
”Did I do something wrong? Did I ever hurt them?” I ask between my sobs. ”Was there something wrong with me?”
Tobias makes it a point to reply with a chain of 'no's. No, love. No way. No, please. But I'm not convinced, so,
”Why? Why?” I ask. Why did they hurt me? Why me?
”Because they're bad people,” Tobias says. ”And because good people pay for bad people's mistakes. That's why love.”
”So why is God making me suffer?” I wail.
”Because we failed Him,” Tobias says. I look up, in his eyes, my lips parting.
”How so?”
”We failed Him by not being around to see how just He is,” he says. ”You really don't think God wants to make you watch them be so awful, do you?”
”I don't-”
”He wants you to see what He will do to them so you'll regret not staying behind. And that's the real suffering. Not this. It's knowing that things could've gone better and not being around for it.” Tobias then says nothing as I hang in there in his arms, a sniffing mess, looking in his eyes for help.
”There's no hope for us,” I whisper brokenly.
Tobias looks like he's having difficulty swallowing those words before he subtly lifts his brows and says, ”No, not for us.”
And I wonder if God knows that words are murderers in disguise. Murderers lurking under our soft sighs, whisperous whispers and silvery voices. Maybe humans are better off mute. But then I also remember how words can brighten up faces and make days.
And I suppose that's the thing. God has created us with a completely free will. We can use our words to harm or to heal. We can use our brains to deceive or to lead. We can use our hands to help or to slit wrists.
We are free to do whatever we want. And what we want is what we all need considering. God gave us the freedom to turn rogue or faithful.
The room's door gets slammed open and Tobias and I spring apart to look at the intruder. Tobias rushes to get hold of Benji who was dragging Joshua's sweater under the bed before returning to stand next to me with wide eyes.
We then stare at the intruder holding two red cups and wearing a huge smile that dims to nothing when Sierra, in her bra and pants, gets off Joshua.
”Mason.” Sierra states, glancing over at Joshua who looks aghast.
Mason's frozen facial expressions thaw into sizzling anger before he hurls the red cups at Joshua (and none of them actually hit him). ”What the fuck, Josh?!” He says, charging toward him.
”Mason-” Sierra reaches out for him, but he turns to her with a death glare.
”At my own fucking party?” Mason sneers at her. ”On my parents' bed?” He then turns to Joshua and pushes his shoulders. ”What the fuck?!”
Joshua seems lost at words. ”I didn't know-” He whispers, looking way too apologetic to be believable.
”What didn't you know?” His voice breaks. ”I thought you were my fucking brother, what the fuck?” He pushes him again and Joshua does nothing to retaliate. ”Get the fuck out!” He yells before turning to Sierra. ”Both of you, out! I don't wanna see any of your faces when I return.”
Mason tries concealing his watering eyes before he spits next to his shoes and stumbles on one of the cups on his way out of the room.