I heard his deep breathing. His soft words of love in my ear, promising to give me everything, it calmed my doubtful thoughts. His hands ran over my flesh, soothing as could be. The cry of the animals drowned out what he said, truthfully I didn’t really want to know. I grinded my teeth together, controlling my mouth to not open and form the question that my mind begged me to ask. I listened to the buzzing of bugs, the rustle of bushes as lizards hurried in and out of the brush.



Then, my thoughts came to a sudden stop; I was forced to look at him. I heard the heart wrenching noise of the liquid sloshing around in the bottle before I saw him reach for it. Jack was his best friend, had always been his best friend and would continue to be his best friend until death did them apart. He took his comrade, shakily wrapped his fingers around the sticky, glass neck and brought him to his lips.




After guzzling for what seemed like eternity, he discarded his friend like a used tissue. Just as he would discard me when he no longer needed a woman to fulfill his odious pleasures. His friend was now no longer his main interest. His eyes were now locked on me, I was now a target that he was going to use, I had suddenly become an “it”.



The slur of his words caused imaginary spiders to scuttle across my already clammy skin. The sound of him stumbling around trying to piss by himself wasn’t comforting. The sound of his puking wasn’t comforting. And the sound of my cursing as I held his hat, arm around his waist making sure he didn’t fall, helping him back up wasn’t comforting.


The night was quiet when he asked me to stay. He asked that I didn’t leave. He whispered to me that he loved me. That he didn’t want to be alone. That he wanted me to be with him forever. And so soon that I was angry with him for getting drunk, I was already back in love.