meant. loved. were.
Meant. Loved. Were.
The tears formed in Whizzer’s eyes, they painfully drowned his soul, spilling dangerously onto his cheeks. His lips quivered gently, and he suddenly turned, his back facing Marvin.
Marvin.
Marvin, the man he trusted not to be like the rest of them.
The man who as it turned out was worse than them, worse than all of them, even worse than his abusive father and his drunken mother.
Whizzer looked to the heavens, praying the tears to disappear, praying that he wasn’t really there, that it was all just a cruel dream his mind had made up to remind him why he shouldn’t ever get close to people.
But it wasn’t a dream, it was very much real.
The blood dripping from his blackened eye was very much there, his eye going dark and puffy, and the numbness he felt in his heart was the tell-tale sign.
The inescapable feeling of dread and fear that made his stomach boil and wash over him, the sickness kicking in as he tripped forward, plunging his face into the icy water in the sink basin, not even afraid of messing up his hair for a change.
Trying to wash away what he thought was an accident.
Then the hand wrapped around the back of his neck and he took a shocked breath in, spluttering as his lungs filled with water. His hands clutched urgently at the side of the sink as he tried with all of his will to push his head up above the water line, thrashing around in the water. His hands sliced into the raw metal under the counter as he dug in, the pressure in his temples slowly building as he could hear his heart pound in his ears, his grip loosened.
Slowly his neck relaxed, lolling to the side, everything foggy.
Suddenly his head was pulled up, as though the hands around his neck were like a noose.
He gasped as he regained consciousness, trying to claw at the hands that held his neck weakly, the red bruises beginning to go purple.
“where was dinner Whizzer?” Marvin spat into his ear, dragging Whizzer’s head upwards.
Suddenly Whizzer couldn’t feel anything anymore. He couldn’t feel the burning in his throat, couldn’t feel the stinging of the slash on his upper cheek, couldn’t feel the numb pain in his heart.
Instead he felt the icy hell, the fake dismissal, the fiery hell, the nonchalance he was known for.
He refused to reply.
“for fuck’s sake Whizzer-“ his words felt sharper than the knife he had brought to Whizzer’s throat that caused the slice in his face “-you’re a useless—” he smacked Whizzer’s head down, his forehead catching on the hard wood of the counter causing him to cry out in pain, “-selfish—” He suddenly pulled Whizzer’s head back, his hand moving so that it was around the front of his throat, and stormed him up against the fridge, his grip tightening on the thin flesh, feeling every single heartbeat slow “-gigolo.”
Then there was silence as the only thing heard in the room was Whizzer’s choked breaths in, and the smacking of his hands-on Marvin’s forearms.
Then Marvin let go, watching him crumple to the floor, his blue face slowly regaining its honey colour as he took the raspy inhales, each gasp sounding as though nails were embedded in his throat.
Marvin’s eyes drifted shut, inhaling slowly.
Each breath making him feel slightly more guilty, making the powerful feeling he felt as his hands closed around Whizzer’s throat turn more into a nauseous one.
He drove his foot, full force, into Whizzer’s stomach, watching him contort and convulse into a tiny ball, shielding his organs from the world.
“fuck. I love you Whizzer. Stay.”
He yelled, his fists clenching and his breaths short and fast.
Yelling, it would always end with yelling.
Ironic really. An ironic show of strength because losing control is weak, because yelling is just the auditory version bursting into tears.
And suddenly a million pieces of his heart shattered when he was met with the still silence.
“whizzer?” his voice dropped to the low whisper.
No reply.
Marvin rolled his eyes, the heavy feeling behind them disappeared as he took another kick at the man on the floor, hearing the crack of his toes and the shattering pain that ran through his body.
But he couldn’t feel anything anymore as he pulled Whizzer up and pushed his head forward against the fridge.
“I thought I meant something.” His voice was spiteful and loud as he continued to bash Whizzer’s head against the freezer, harder and harder, “I thought you loved me.” Suddenly he realised how still Whizzer was. “I didn’t know you were- you were…”
Meant.
Loved.
Were.
The tiny trail of blood running from his nose.
He dropped the lifeless body, edging it out of the way with his foot and opened the fridge, grabbing a bottle from the almost empty twelve pack.
He sat on the counter, watching, the beer held in his cold grip.
He stayed there for days until the intolerable smell became too much and the neighbours called the police.