Deadly Games

~Chapter Five~

My hand flew to my face, as my brain started to register what had just happened.
I stared up at him as he slowly lifted himself off of my bed and walked over to the window. He ran his hand through his hair, the same hand that had just came in contact with my face. I sat up in my bed, completely stunned as I watched him look outside at the snow.
Suddenly he turned back towards me, his expression softened to a look of concern and compassion.
“Aw, come here, Del,” he said as he sat down gently next to me on the bed. “Let’s have a look, huh?” He reached over to touch my quickly-forming bruise.
I flinched at his touch.
“What, babygirl?” he asked as he noticed my caution towards him. “Let me help you.”
I let him run his fingers slowly down my cheek as I began to tremble. “You-you hurt me,” I stammered and looked down to the carpet.
He pulled his hand away quickly and looked at me, his expression unreadable. “But, you made me do it.”
I looked at him with wide, frightened eyes. “What?”
“You hurt me first. You pulled my hair. My first instinct was to hurt you back.”
I looked into his eyes, confusion spreading through my body. I did this to myself?
“Look, I’m going to go.” Trey walked towards my door, his voice cool.
“Wait, why?” I sat up, heart quickening.
“It’s obvious you don’t want me here,” Trey tilted his head and sighed.
I shook my head profusely. “No, no! I want you here,” I whispered the last part.
He walked over to where I was on the bed and kissed me lightly on the forehead. “I need to go now, babe. I’ll be back later tonight,” he winked and left me to contemplate what had just happened.
I got up and watched him step out my front door and start to jog down the sidewalk, hands shoved in his pockets. I walked over to where Trey had thrown my sweater and tugged off the stained t-shirt. I held it up and looked it over. It was slightly wrinkled from being thrown on my floor and I pulled it on. I stepped over to my mirror and examined my appearance. My butt looked nice and the sweater flattered my waist. I sighed deeply as I recalled Trey’s words about my outfit.
Suddenly, anger rushed throughout my veins. Who did he think he was, telling me I looked like a sl*t? And then he just gets up and leaves?
I pursed my lips and walked over to grab my pea coat and started to walk downtown. I wasn’t about to just sit around and twiddle my thumbs while Trey was doing who knows what.
I weaved myself through the thick crowd of people bustling around me and opened the door to a little, brick bookstore that I spent most of my summer days in. A bell jingled above my head as I pushed open the door to the bookstore. The ceilings were high, instead of being two-stories, like most of the businesses on this stretch, there was only a small balcony where college students or old men often went to get some quiet from the subtle noise of a shop. There was quiet orchestra Christmas music playing and the place smelt of cinnamon candles. Right in front of the large bay window facing the street, there was one of the largest Christmas trees most people have ever seen indoors reaching all the way to the ceiling, decorated with gold and dark crimson bulbs.
I waved a warm hello to Ms. Mary, the owner of the bookshop and continued over to my favorite spot of the entire store, a little sitting area tucked back in the Biography Room of the store. Shoppers rarely went back there and there were two oversized plush chairs that had come to know me very well after the years.
I rounded the corner of the end of the dimly lit horror section to the entrance of the Biography Room and stopped dead in my tracks.
“Who are you?” I asked the person slumped deep into the chair that I usually lounged in.
The person lifted their head and looked to me with the greenest eyes I have ever seen.
His mouth turned up to a crooked smile.
“Well, I’m David.”

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