Fake (A Pretty Pill) (18 page)

“
You get to see the real me, Isi; all of it.  The person who says dumb shit, the person who admits to hearing voices, the person who gets depressed and sometimes gets ultra high and angry.  I hope you don’t have to see the worst, but I will not hide that from you either.  Everyone else, apart from my family and now you, don’t see that.  Everyone else gets to see the fake me.  The skin I put on like clothes and wear for a performance like a stupid circus clown.  The fake me that gets accepted, the fake me that means I’m allowed out in public; the fake me that grates and hurts to wear, because I’ll always know that people don’t like me, they like the fake performance I’m obligated to perform for them.” I breathe, squeeze her hand and look at the sky momentarily before looking back at her.

“I have
no other choice but to do that; to perform and be someone I’m not in order to gain acceptance from the real people population; otherwise I’d be ostracized by nearly all of them.  The real me has to be a secret.  I have no choice.  Then you get people who for no real reason parade around with fake smiles, teeth, boobs and tans.  They have a choice but they choose to be fake to make people think they’re something else; when they’d easily be able to find acceptance and love just being themselves. They plaster on their fake looks and personalities and lie to the world when they don’t even have to.  I fucking hate that, and I can’t stomach them for even a second.”  I seethe.

Isi places a hand on my heart, and I look at her small slender hand and
realize I like it there.  It makes me swallow.

“I used to be like that
; like her.  But I was dying inside.  I took steps to change and I did. I became my real self.  I am me now.  It means I’m ostracized from my family, but it also means I don’t have to lie.” She smiles.

I want to say in that moment that I could fall in love wi
th a girl like her, but I don’t because it’s just not the right thing to do.  Instead I pull her in and give her a huge hug.

“Can I see your clown costume?” I ask.

“My what?”

“The fake you.”

“I don’t do fake anymore.” she growls.

“Surely you have photos.”

“Oh sure. Yeah, I have lots.”

“Then can I see them?” I ask, “I need to have another laugh.”

“Fucker.” she says, pushing me hard in the chest to release her.

“Oh, come on.  It will be cathartic for both of us.” I laugh.

“Okay.  Finish up here and we’ll go to my place for an hour before I drop you off at your sisters.”

“Can we take Hank home first?” I plead.
  I want to be alone with her, no matter how dangerous that might prove to be.

“Yes.”

***

Hank took himself home since he wanted to
walk the 4 miles to the apartments in the sunshine.  Isi and I jumped into her Lexus, and drove to her luxury beachside home.  Luckily the ‘coast was clear’ of her mother.

“This one is weird.”  I say, indicating a photo of her at the top o
f a cheerleading pyramid.  She’s very pretty in the picture in a teenage girl kind of way, but I far prefer the beautiful woman she is now.

“Why?”

“Because you’re standing on all of the fake girls.” I laugh.

“That doesn’t even make sense
.”

“It does to me.”

“It would because you’re weird.  Weirdness attracts weirdness.” she points out.

“Oh, so that’s why you like me.  You’re weird too
.”

“Weak
and childish comeback.” she mock yawns.

“Yeah?” I say, throwing the photo album on the lounge beside us and going in to tackle her like I had the other day.  This time there would be no interruptions.

“Get off me
.”  She is laughing.

“Nup
and I am not a child.” I laugh, tickling her harder and on and on till she’s squealing loudly.

I’m perched over the top of her and I’m breathing hard, and
then I have this confusing moment where I almost move in to push her shirt up and begin kissing her under it, but I stop myself, and I mean, I literally just stop myself and look at her giggling underneath me.

My
brain is analyzing this moment in extreme detail.

I’m aroused; seriously and unquestionably aroused.

I want to bury myself in this woman.

I want to tell her what she’s doing to me, but I don’t want to ruin the friendship we’ve started.

I’m finding her laughter intoxicating like a siren’s song.

I think she’s not only beautiful, but seriously hot.

I find her scent intoxicating.

I have yet to discover any serious flaws in her.

I’m not sure how I feel about Shae anymore, it’s just pain.  I can’t even feel regret for not trying harder.

I’m scared.

I look at her, really look at her.  Her blue grey eyes that go from a lightish grey to a darker blue at the edges are staring at me.  Her long brown hair is beginning to escape from her ponytail.  Her face is flawless; perhaps a throwback to her previous life, but it’s beautiful.  Her slight nose is flaring as she breathes frantically through it.  Her lips are only slightly plump, not swollen like some of the women I see around here; and she’s biting her bottom lip.  Her teeth are pretty and pearly white, not a blindingly bleached shade.  Her chest is heaving to regain her breath and it highlights the perky breasts she hides under her t-shirt.  She’s so beautiful, can’t her parents see that?

“Silas?” she whispers.

It breaks me from staring at her, and I notice I’m breathing hard and kneeling on the couch over her and between her legs; my hands and arms are propping my body up and keeping me from lying on top of her.

“Isi
…”

W
hat?  What do I want to say right now?  Nothing, I want to kiss her.
I can’t escape the feeling of kissing her today – I want more, I want her I want to be with her, in her; and I’m tingling throughout every inch of my body.  It feels like the first time, but it feels even better because I know we’ve both been here before and it could be amazing from the first try.

I’m leaning forward
and I feel myself dipping in to kiss her. I don’t feel any resistance from her and so I keep my eyes on her the whole time I lean in, wanting to be certain I’m not wrongly guessing my welcome.  She closes her eyes and tilts her face up, so I move in further and begin to claim her lips.  I close my eyes around the same time my lips softly push against hers and any and all fear is swept away.  In my mind it is her.  Shae’s not here and its Isi that I’m kissing, Isi that I want and it feels so right.

“What the hell?” shouts
a woman from behind me.

I
groan and lift up, turning to see another one of those fake women that I find repulsive, standing there in shock at what she’s walked in on.

“Mom?”

“Belle, can you please tell me what you think you’re doing right now?”

“Lying on the couch underneath Silas
.  I was about to let him kiss me, but you walked in and ruined the moment.  So now I’m simply pissed off.” she growls.

“Language young lady
.”

I’m moving away from Isi, but only enough for her to
sit up.

“Silas, this is my Mom; Mom, this is Silas.”  She introduces us.  Neither of us
makes any move to consummate the introduction with a handshake.

Mrs. Mulligan is looking at me with disgust.  Great, what have I done now?

“Is this one of those young men you’ve been having threesomes with?”

I
guffaw; it completely bursts through like an unwanted grunting laugh.

“You spoke to Katherine I assume.”
  Isi groans.

“She phoned me in tears
.”

“Then she shouldn’t have approached me with her self-righteous air of magnificence and haughty superiority.”  Isi explains.

“Are you moving out to live with two young men?” she shouts.

“No.  But I may move out.”

“This is the same Silas that lost you your job?” she seethes.

“Excuse me?” Isi suddenly
becomes animated.

“I spoke to that Ethan, and he tells me you took advantage of a young mentally ill boy, to the point he almost raped you
.” she shouts.

“I’m sorry?” I jump in.

“I’m not speaking to you.” she says.

“If you
’re speaking about me and in front of me; you most certainly are speaking to me.” I growl.

She blinks and turns back to Isi.

“What are you doing here with a boy that practically raped you?” she shouts.

Isi is breathing seriously hard; her hands are clenched, and she’s gritting her teeth.

“How dare you.” she begins, “How dare you insult Silas like that.  Whatever Silas and I do or don’t do is completely and utterly consensual.  I don’t require your permission and I sure as hell wouldn’t ask if I did.”

“He’s mentally unstable.”

“No I’m not.  I’m more stable than you appear to be.” I seethe.

“I’m not sick like you
.” she says rudely.

Isi stands up abruptly and slaps her mom
hard across the face.  I stay seated, because if I slap the woman, I’ll break her jaw.

Isi is shaking with
rage.  “How can you stand there and insult my friend like he doesn’t have feelings or matter at all?”

“I will not be spoken to and treated like this in my own home
.” Mrs. Mulligan begins to cry, holding her cheek that has turned a rosy shade.  She goes to turn away, but Isi grabs her arm and pushes her till she’s next to an armchair.  She then throws her into it.  Isi is stronger than she looks.

“You will
fucking hear me out, or God so help me, I will tape your mouth shut and tie you to that chair.”  She screams at her.

Mrs.
Mulligan’s face falls.

“You’
re sicker than most people I know.” Isi begins, shouting each and every word.  “You are an alcoholic, sadistic bitch that takes pleasure in making her only child feel like a piece of shit.”

“This has got to be a joke
.”  Mrs. Mulligan begins to cry.

“Well the
n, the jokes’ on me.  Because I’m the biggest disappointment of your life, and I’m the one that bears the brunt of the constant reminders you provide.  Having to put up with being your daughter is a joke.”  Isi spews out.

“You haven’t been my daughter since the day you enlisted.”  Mrs. Mulligan erupts
pointing her finger violently at Isi.

“Thank fucking Christ for small mercies then
and thank you for clarifying that for me.  Because I was worried that I had to have something to do with you; when in fact you’re not even related to me.  I fucking hope you’re happy; you can now live your lonely, hopeless, shallow life surrounded by fake beauty and nothingness.  You won’t see me again; I’ll collect my stuff when you’re out.  Silas come on, let’s go.” she states, stomping over to me and grabbing my elbow to drag me up. 

But s
he stops and instead grabs up the photo album we had been looking at.  She begins to tear pages out of it before slamming the album to the floor and stomping on it.  I stand and move to the side slightly.

I
’m getting to see what it’s probably like to see me in a rage, because she then goes to the fireplace and grabs a poker in order to smash it down on the photo album and do more damage; she doesn’t stop until it is in pieces.  She then swipes everything off the mantelpiece, while Mrs. Mulligan screams in the background. 

Suddenly Isi
finds her stride, running to the kitchen. I’m momentarily stunned before I hear glass smashing, and fear she’s hurt.  So I run in there to find her elbow deep in a huge wine fridge; wine bottle glass and red and white wine pooling below her on the floor.  She pulls out another several bottles and drops them onto the tiles, but they don’t all break.  She bends down and forcibly throws them down so that they do smash.

This is raw.  I’ve been here,
I’ve been engulfed by these feelings and I instinctually know it’s good to let it go… to get it all out; at least that’s my experience.  Maybe not by fucking up her house, but I can’t see a punching bag anywhere, and I kind of hate her mom anyway. 

I
just watch her, watch her smash away her pain.  I watch and I understand the burning rage; and although what she is doing could be construed as criminal; it also isn’t.  In my mind and with my understanding of how things work in life, it is the right way to behave given the situation. Isi is releasing everything; all her mother’s hateful words; all those years of not being good enough for simply wanting to be herself.  She’s crying and screaming and ranting. 

Pent up energy and pain has to be traded with something
and she’s channeling it into rage.  This concept is nothing new to me; it’s the way my emotions run when I’m no longer in control of myself.  Unfortunately my emotional rages are exacerbated by the fact that my brain chemistry is geared to naturally slide into a mania or depression, a swinging pendulum of rage or despair when I’m not looking after myself.