Read Messed Up Online

Authors: Molly Owens

Tags: #C429, #Extratorrents, #Kat

Messed Up (25 page)

Levi didn’t look at me. His fierce stare was set on the dark road before us. He abruptly pulled to the side of the road and yelled furiously, “GET OUT!”

I opened the door and swiftly stepped out, wondering if I would be able to find my way back to the campsite from where we were stopped. It couldn’t be more than a mile away I reasoned. But Levi had gotten out too and was all of a sudden inches from my face. He grabbed a large handful of my hair and violently pulled my head back. I could hear myself scream out in pain as I grabbed at his arm, which felt like an iron bar in my weak hands.


Nobody disrespects me like that!” he yelled in my face. I could see his jaw muscles tighten as his face turned red with anger. Any trace of the face I’d found so unbelievably attractive was gone. He looked like a monster to me now.


Levi, please,” I pleaded, “You’re hurting me.” I pulled weakly at his arm but his grip just tightened. I could feel my scalp pounding in pain.

“You made me look like a fucking idiot, chasing you up here to butt fucking nowhere,” he yanked my hair sideways suddenly sending the side of my skull bouncing off the edge of his car. A stinging pain radiated through my head as warm blood began to drip down my cheek.

“I’m sorry,” I cried, tears streaming down my cheeks, mixing with the blood, “I’m so, so sorry. Please forgive me,” I heard myself saying, my chest heaving between sobs, “I love you.” Those were the words that finally seemed to register in his anger. Levi released my hair. My hand flew up to my head. It was tender to the touch. My hand felt cold against my throbbing scalp. I cast my eyes downward.

“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice more controlled but still venomous. I forced my eyes to meet his, “Don’t you ever lie to me again.” Then he pulled his arm back and swung at me. The back of his hand made contact with the side of my face with such force that my entire body was sent flying, crashing to the ground. The back of my head bounced off the hard dirt road, and everything faded to black.

 

I could feel my body being pulled into the car, but I kept my eyes tightly shut. I didn’t want to look at him. He must have known I’d come to consciousness though, because he tossed his t-shirt at me and told me to wipe my face; that he didn’t want blood on his car. I did as I was instructed, delicately dabbing the gash on my head and another that had appeared when my lip was split by the back of Levi’s hand.

Levi switched on some horrendously loud music that I’m sure he knew I’d hate. It blasted in my head, shaking my already pounding brain. I stared out the window vacantly, feeling a complete and all consuming hopelessness like I’d never experienced before.

Slowly, I could hear Levi’s breathing begin to lighten, “Take this” he eventually said handing me a small white pill, “It will help with the headache.” His voice didn’t sound angry anymore, but it wasn’t the one that had been so precious to me just a day before.

I took the pill from his hand, not sure if I actually had an option at this point. He handed me a bottle of water and I swallowed it. Levi switched the CD player to the piano music he’d played for me the first time I’d been in his car, on the drive home from the concert. The music was resoundingly less optimistic than it had been when I’d heard it before.

I began to feel my head go numb as the pain drifted away. The sides of my vision began to close in, until everything looked fuzzy. It occurred to me that the little white pill could have been anything, even poison. Was I dying? I wondered as my vision began to spin. I felt so relaxed, that I didn’t care if death was coming for me. It seemed that at least it wouldn’t hurt. Maybe it would even be a relief.


So you have two choices,” Levi said softly, “We go back to Santa Juanita and everything returns to how it was, except you tell Conner that you can’t see him ever again,” he paused and then added, “and I will hold you to that,” he brushed my head gash lightly with his finger for emphasis. “Choice two. You do whatever you want and I deal with Conner myself.”


What exactly does that entail?” I asked, although I had a pretty good idea. My head felt so heavy I rested it against the cold window, but forced my eyes to stay open.


I’ll be creative, but you remember how I taught Toby his lesson,” he smiled wickedly. I nodded because that was all my body could manage. Every inch of me now felt heavy with a warm fizzy sensation.


Option one,” I mumbled, allowing my eyes to finally close.


By the way” I heard Levi say, but he sounded so far away, like he was standing at one end of a very long tunnel, with me clear at the other end, “You can quit your little Nancy Drew routine, Toby’s never coming back,” and then his voice changed, “It’s good to know he has such nice friends, though,” he said in the voice of Raymond Higgins.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

PART TWO

 

24

 

You know how there is that moment when you first wake up when you are somewhere between sleep and full consciousness? Kind of like you’re in a dream but only slightly? Well, it’s during those brief intermissions from life, that I have often mistaken my dream world for reality. When I woke up the next morning, I had that experience, and for a tiny sliver of time I thought maybe it had all been a nightmare. I could feel the comfortable softness of my mattress underneath my body, my favorite silky pillowcase under my head. I knew I was at home. Then I felt something unfamiliar, a cold sensation on my face. I slowly opened my eyes to see Levi gazing down at me with his sweet smile. He was holding a bag of frozen peas gently to my face.


Hey Punky,” he said softly, carefully stroking my hair, “How do you feel?”

I made a sound somewhere between a grunt and a moan, slowly becoming aware of the fact that I felt like complete shit. My skull was pounding and the spot where my head had hit the car stung. I reached up to touch it and found that it had been bandaged.
I like patching you up
, I remembered him saying. Levi picked up a glass of water and pressed it to my lips. I sipped slowly; a flash of pain was a reminder that my lip had been split open. I could taste the blood when I swallowed.

I started to get up and Levi immediately helped me to my feet, spotting me carefully as I walked to the bathroom. I closed the door behind me and as I turned toward the toilet, my image flashed in the mirror. I stood motionless, staring at my reflection in stunned disbelief. The entire left side of my face was swollen and red, except for a perfect half-moon under my eye, which was bluish-black. My bottom lip was fat with a red gash that looked like a slice had been taken out of a cherry pie. On the side of my forehead was a bandage the size and shape of a playing card. I slowly removed it to reveal a gapping cut, where it looked like my skin had cracked open.

I leaned against the counter for support as my vision began to spin; the events of the previous night appearing before me in a series of snapshot images. I felt a flood of emotions hit me like a wave smashing my body against the sand. I began to quiver as the tears erupted from my eyes. I crumbled to the floor, curling my body into the fetal position, and willing my life to stop, for it to all just go away. Why couldn’t this be one long nightmare? Why couldn’t I wake up?

Levi must have heard me crying because he came into the bathroom, and effortlessly picked me up in his arms. He carried me back to my bed, climbing in next to me and holding my limp body in his arms. How twisted is this? I am actually feeling comforted by the person who did this to me. The realization brought on another wave of miserable tears.


I’m so sorry I had to do this to you,” I heard Levi whisper, his breath on my ear, “I love you so much, Chelsea. You don’t know how hard it is for me to see you in pain.” I can’t listen to this insanity, I thought, forcing myself to ignore him.

When my crying tapered off, Levi asked if I wanted another pain pill, I nodded vehemently and he pressed a little white pill into my palm. I quickly popped it in my mouth as he held the glass of water to my lips once more. I waited silently in his arms for the fuzzy warmth to once again descend upon my body. Before I knew it, I was closing my heavy eyelids and falling back into a deep and still slumber.

 

The second time I woke up that day, I had a much clearer sense of what I would find. My face and head would be mangled and throbbing. My boyfriend would be feigning concern, as if he was not to blame for my current state of misery. Was this what it was like to be in the Twilight Zone, I thought, keeping my eyes closed, not ready to face my disturbed reality. Maybe Levi would give me another one of those little white pills. Maybe I could keep taking them for the rest of my life. Would that be such a terrible way to spend my existence?

I slowly opened my eyes. I found with relief that I was alone. I took in the space around me. The light was warm and dim. It must be late afternoon, I assessed by the golden quality of the sunlight that bounced off my pink walls. I was only mildly surprised to find that a least a half dozen vases were spread around my room, on my desk, book shelf, nightstand, and in each was a large bouquet of paper white calla lilies. You might assume that after the beating I’d received the previous night, I would see the obvious contradiction in these flowers, but instead I smiled inwardly. Maybe he really is sorry, I thought, maybe things weren’t so dire after all. Stupid girl.

A note rested against the nearest vase. I picked it up and read:

 

Beautiful Chelsea,

I went to get you some dinner—I’m sure you’ll be starving when you wake up.
There’s a movie cued to go in the DVD player.

I am so sorry for your pain. You are my life, Punky.

I love you.

Levi

 

I stood up slowly, found my balance, and made my way to the bathroom. I got into the shower, avoiding my reflection in the mirror. With the hot water turned on, I let it run down my body. The pressure of it felt especially powerful on the back of my head where my scalp had been practically torn from my skull. I closed my eyes and ignored the pain, until it seemed to dull and eventually subside completely.

I allowed myself to think of Conner and how he must have woken up that morning and found my empty tent. I was tortured by the picture of him in my mind, as he stood staring at my vacant sleeping bag, his face covered in rejection and worry. A sickness filled me as I contemplated the conversation I would be forced to have with him when he got back to town. My only choice was to convince him that I didn’t want to see him anymore. He couldn’t call me, or drop by my house, or visit me at work. I now knew what Levi was capable of, and understood that no amount of convincing would dissuade him from expelling his full wrath on Conner. The only glimmer of hope was that he would keep his end of the bargain. Part of me was afraid that even with my promise to cut Conner off, Levi would still go after him in some way. I was fully responsible for Conner now. If Levi hurt him, it would be entirely my fault, just like what happened to Toby was entirely my fault. God, what even happened to Toby?

Getting out of the shower, I wrapped a towel around my torso and studied my reflection in the mirror. It was not as much of a shock this time, partly because I knew what to expect and partly because the swelling had gone down. The large bandage on my head had been replaced by a series of three small butterfly bandages. My lip was still larger than normal but the cut appeared less gruesome.

I carefully brushed and then dried my wet hair. I spread a fine layer of concealer over my face, putting a touch more under my eye, which did nothing to hide the purple crescent that stared back at me. I brushed my teeth, cautious to avoid hitting my lip, and then spread on a light coat of pink gloss. Now when I looked at myself, I could see twenty-five percent of the Chelsea I knew staring back. Not bad, I figured.

In my room, I put on a pair of yoga pants and a tank top. I fell back onto my bed and started the DVD that Levi had cued.
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
, a perfect distraction. My mind happily let go of my anxieties as I was transported into Upper East Side Manhattan in the 1960s. I’ve always wanted to step inside that movie, to live there in that brownstone apartment, and go to parties with Holly Golightly.

Levi arrived just as my stomach began rumbling, wild with hunger. He had two large bags of take out Chinese food. He smiled at me, “Wow Punky, you clean up well,” he said removing take-out containers from the bags, “I hope Chinese food isn’t too much for your stomach.”


Sounds perfect,” I replied, “I’m dying of hunger.”


Do you want to eat at the table?”


In bed, please,” I smiled. I couldn’t believe we were going to act like this was a perfectly normal situation. You beat me up last night, I screamed in my head, and now you’re serving me dinner in bed?
But I didn’t dare question his kindness. I was too scared that he would turn into that monster again. I was desperate to keep the peace, at any cost.

Levi put a towel on my lap and handed me a container of sweet and sour chicken, my favorite, but of course he would know that, his spies probably told him. He patiently watched the end of
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
with me, without so much as a single complaint. The food tasted like the best thing I had ever eaten, I guess not eating for twenty-four hours has its perks. I polished off the sweet and sour and moved on to pork fried rice and Mongolian beef. When I’d eaten so much that my stomach started protruding like I was five months pregnant, Levi cleaned up our little bed picnic.

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