Page 47 of Apathy
Her mouth opened as her legs started shaking around me, and with a guttural scream, I watched as she came undone in front of me, rubbing herself frantically, prolonging her orgasm. Her pussy held my dick in a tight grip and when black spots started dancing around the periphery of my vision, I let go and slammed into her, feeling the orgasm tear through my body, almost knocking me out.
I collapsed on top of her, unable to stay upright anymore. Sand and our sweat mixed together, but instead of pushing me away from her, she started stroking my hair and humming an unknown song, filling the empty space around us.
My mind was completely blank, spent, and I was unable to move my body.
But I had to, even if I wanted nothing more than to stay here for a little bit longer and forget about the things I needed to do. Everything I tried to lock down started pouring back into my mind, and I stiffened as her hands glided over my scars.
Why was it that the things we shouldn’t want were the ones that always felt right? Being here with her felt both right and wrong, and yet I knew that wasn’t my mind talking. That was my heart. My tired heart wanted nothing more but to forget about the horrors of the past and live life like a normal person, without grudges accompanying us every single day.
However, I couldn’t forget who I was and who she was. Instead of allowing her to continue her little exploration of my skin, I pulled myself up and removed the condom, tying it up and throwing it to the side.
I refused to look at her, to see the hurt in her eyes, because I knew what I was doing now.
I was rejecting her.
Skylar
There are those fleeting moments in life where your mind goes completely blank, and all those worries, all those dark thoughts seem to evaporate into thin air, leaving you breathless, free, happy. I didn’t have many of those anymore. I think I could count on one hand the number of times I didn’t have to worry about something, and after so long, I forgot how it felt.
Not to think, but to feel.
I’ve spent years chasing the high that would make me forget about my life and the people around me, but I never succeeded. At least not fully. Yet, Ash managed to do that. He made me forget, made the wheels inside my head stop, and during that time inside that tent, everything was perfect. There were no thoughts, no darkness shrouding my mind, just the feeling of his hands on my body, his lips on mine, and his dick moving inside me.
It felt better than that Oxy I swallowed the other day. It felt better than the whole bottle of vodka I drank at that party in July. And I wanted more.
God, I craved more.
A week has passed since Ash and I had sex, and I felt like I was going to burst if I didn’t get that feeling again. This felt worse than coming down from a high. My skin was itchy, my hands shook, and I knew it wasn’t from any of the drugs, because I took a Tramadol this morning, thinking it was shitty withdrawals that sometimes happened.
But no, this was from him.
He didn’t want to look at me after he disposed the condom, but I didn’t give a shit about that. He didn’t have to look at me as long as he fucked me, as long as he made me forget. Dylan was behaving like a mother hen around me, and even my father came home, constantly asking if I was okay and if I needed anything. My mother was still on her trip in Costa Rica, spending the money she didn’t earn, and I was glad her poisonous mouth wasn’t anywhere near me right now. There was only so much I could take at the moment.
And the messages… Fuck, the fucking messages. I thought it was a prank, that somebody was just messing with me after what happened in the forest, but that was just my wishful thinking. The first one terrified me, but it wasn’t until the second one came that I realized I was dealing with a psychopath. They always came from a different phone number and three days ago I received a third one, explaining in detail everything he was going to do to the next girl, because he couldn’t have me.
Yet.
Thatyethaunted my days and nights. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t do anything about it, because whoever it was knew everything about me. The only thing I did know is that it was a male because he told me. The sick bastard told me to call him Iblis and to find out what it means. When I googled the name, I found it was what they called Satan in the Quran.
After that interaction, I decided to stay inside at all times. School and then home, because if he found out anything else about me, he could harm my friends, my family, hell, anyone I had any contact with. But I was itching to go out now.
No, I was itching to forget and there was only one person who could make that happen, and he was completely ignoring me. If I thought that first week was bad, it was nothing compared to this one. From Tuesday to Wednesday, he didn’t come to school, and when I saw him on Thursday, he looked at me like I’d killed his entire family. Every time I tried talking to Ash, he either all but ran away from me, or we would be interrupted by Kane. I had nothing to say to Kane, and no matter how much I hurt for him and the memories that were haunting him with all these disappearances, I couldn’t help him.
God, maybe I should go to the police?
But if you go to the police, who knows what would happen. My subconsciousness reared its ugly head.
Fuck.
What was I going to do? I was okay dealing with one monster—at least I knew his face. But this one, this Iblis or whatever his name was, he was an enigma. Was somebody trying to hurt me to get back at my father? But this person never mentioned anything about my father, and if that was the plan, wouldn’t they just kidnap me and get it over with? Wouldn’t he—
“Skylar?”
I jumped from the bed at the sound of Dylan’s voice as he entered the room, and the water I had in the glass I was holding splashed all over my hands.
“Jesus, Sky,” he started and walked toward me. His strong hands enveloped mine, taking the glass from me and placing it on the dresser opposite of my bed. “Are you okay?” He touched my forehead. “You’re extremely pale.”
I lifted my head, fighting the tears and the knot in my throat, because I wanted to tell him. God, I wanted to tell him everything, but I couldn’t. His life was more important than mine, and the psychopaths I had in my life would attack him first if I ever said a word. No matter how much I wanted him to be here with me, I wanted him gone right now. I wanted him to go back to his life in Seattle, to be as far away as possible from here. He was the one person I wouldn’t survive losing.
