Situation

Chapter 25: Hidden Despair

          It's been a couple of days since shopping, and Christmas was creeping up on me like a sneaky cat in the underbrush. Personally, I wanted it to come and go, but that just seemed to make it slower.

Acting and lying have always been natural things for me, but it was totally different when it was Kanda I was tricking. Since the night we had our fight, I've been trying to act like everything was normal, but the truth was that I wasn't even able to sleep most nights because of the nightmares. It would always be Kanda cutting, committing suicide, or me killing him. Some nights it was so bad, I would wake up Kanda just to make sure he was alive and unharmed.

I stare at the blue Christmas tree across the room, the colorful lights twinkling hypnotically. When I was little, I was terrified of the dark, so whenever the tree was up, every night I would get up in the middle of the night and sleep under it while the lights were on. Then, I would go back to my room at dawn after turning it off. One time, Mana found me and asked if I had a nightmare. He thought it was so cute, and slept in the floor next to me.

I listen to the breathing of the samurai beside me. As weird as it is, he was actually a heavy sleeper from midnight to dawn, though I don't think he would ever admit it. Our backs were together, and his warmth was like electricity sparking between us. I have a feeling that he didn't like the light while he slept, so lately he only faced the wall, despite me saying that I could turn off the tree. He never likes doing something that interferes with my happiness, and I guess that made me a little distraught. That night, he probably had the idea that my fists beating him half to death brought me joy. Well, it was the opposite.

Slipping out of the blankets, I stood up, careful not to wake my boyfriend softly snoring in his sleep, and pulled a pillow off the top bunk. Lately, I had been doing this to get away from Kanda, not wanting to worry him.

I push open the bathroom door, clutching the fluffy pillow in one hand and checking to make sure Kanda was still asleep even though the door squeaked, and continue into the large bathroom. Feeling around in the dark, I make it to the tub and step in.

It was more comfortable than most would think as long as I had a pillow under my head. I curled up into a tight ball, trying to leave the present. After seeing what a monster it had made me, I was never going to touch a razor again, except when I threw mine off the balcony.

Monster was an understatement of what I was that night. I didn't care that I was abusing the man I loved without a second thought. The nightmares were awful, but nothing can compare to the living world, and the hate bundled in me for myself. I wonder sometimes what Kanda was thinking that night.

I mean, he told me that it was okay as long as I wasn't hurting myself and that he loved me, but I feel like there was more. Was it the baby? Was he afraid that if he protected himself that it would injure the baby? I have a feeling that was it, that there was more to it than his love for me.

If he had ever hurt me like that, I would have left him without another thought. But then again, I could give him so many things like the baby and sex. I had more benefits.

When I had the nightmares, I wonder if that's what he felt when I did something to myself. Did he feel the sorrow of watching me beg for the numbness? Did he feel the hurt of not being enough to stop it? Did he feel the disgust of not being enough to stop it when he was right there? There were so many things that I felt when I had those nightmares, and I woke up screaming, but they were still nightmares. This is what Kanda had witnessed in reality.

He saved me from suicide, knocking the pills from my hands when I was taking the second. He read my journal about all the times I had cut, and then blamed himself for not noticing. He had gotten furious when he found out I cut and let me beat him carelessly. He had forgiven me for that. He had stayed with me when I was so repulsively moaning and writhing from the numbness the wound on my shoulder brought me while he cleaned it, and didn't look at me in disgust. He was still in there now, thinking I was asleep beside him, the father of my baby and the person I loved most in the world.