Destined

Pit of Death

I'm trapped! I'm so fucking trapped!

How did I walk into that one? I told him I'd marry him when he knows I have never wanted to be married in my life. How fucking stupid am I? Just to prove a point to him that I would do anything to leave school? Fuck! How could I not see that coming? Wait. Wait. He won't follow through with this. I know him. He also hates marriage just as much as me. So therefore I will be the one to hold out longer than him in this stupid charade.

"Are you gonna finish up in that shower, or do I need to come in and help you?" Daryl yells from the other side of the door and I rinse the rest of the soap out of my hair.

"I'm almost done. Give me a minute, Babe!" There. He knows if I call him that that I'm serious.

***

Babe? BABE! Fuck. She does want this. She fucking booby trapped me and by that I mean she let me see her boobies and I trapped myself because they are fucking perfect tits!!

"Alright Sweetheart. I'll be counting." What the hell am I saying? I sound like a freaking pussy. Going downstairs, I head to the kitchen and make some coffee. At first I pour her a cup, but then I realize, if I want to avoid marriage, then I gotta be the shittiest person she knows. Pouring out her cup, I dump the rest of the coffee in my huge ass mug and start drinking it. When I hear her get out of the shower, I make toast, butter it, and begin to eat it.

"Is there any more coffee?" She heads to the cupboard to grab a mug.

"No... sorry. Did you want some?"

"Oh... yeah, but that's okay darling. I'll just find something from the fridge." Going into the refrigerator, she finds the milk and I knew that there was a reason I hadn't thrown it out after it's expiration date. Pouring some in her glass, it comes out in chunks of curdled lactose and she nearly vomits from the sound of it hitting the glass. Then she does vomit when the smell reaches her nose. "Oh... Daryl... you need to throw these kind of things out. Ewww."

"Oh... sorry babe. I guess I forgot." I say with my back to her as I clean my cup. A smile crosses my face and I should probably feel bad about this, but I really don't.

"Oh that's alright. Yer always busy. I can hardly blame you." Shit. She's at it again. Always being so God damn understanding. Fuck.

***

He's so stupid.

He doesn't think I've caught on to this charade. First he wants to marry me and now he's acting incompetent. No. I'm not falling to his pit of death. Asinine.

Heading down to the station in his truck, I put my feet up on the dash of his '75 Chevy truck. It's his baby. His pride and joy and my dirty boots are all over it. I can see him sweating and grinding his teeth as I re-position my feet every so often so he can see the dirt marks I'm leaving on the red vinyl. It's driving him insane, but he hasn't said a word yet. He hasn't flipped out on me or shoved them off like he probably would any other person. He wouldn't stand for it if it was some harlot. Why is he giving into me doing this. Is this another point he's trying to prove. I know him. I know he has a temper. I know my feet on his vintage truck's dash board is driving him over the edge. So why hasn't he flipped out yet!?

"I was thinking, if we're gonna be married, we need to start looking for a house. And maybe a new car. This truck won't last forever ya know."

"Not if you keep putting yer feet on my dash, it won't'." He mumbles under his breath as though I can't hear it. "What's wrong with the apartment, Honey?"

"Well we're gonna adopt kids aren't we? If I can't have any, we gotta fill the house some how." I grin from ear to ear, but deep inside, it hurts me. I wish I could have kids. I think if I could it would be a whole other story for Daryl and I. We probably wouldn't even be together. He never truly wanted children. When I was pregnant in high school, he ran out, but came around to it eventually. When we lost the baby, that's when we lost each other. That's when we stopped wanting each other. After that whole big tragedy, that's when he stopped wanting kids, let alone me. I can't help but get teary eyed over it all.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine. Just got dust in my eye from yer truck. You really need to clean this out."

***

She was thinking of our baby. I know it. This is why we can never be truly happy together. Because she'll never be able to give herself what she wants- and that's my fault. If I wouldn't have gotten her pregnant, then she never would have lost the baby and damaged her one Fallopian tube. She'd still be able to have babies and she could have found a guy who could give her everything she ever wanted. It's too dangerous for her to be with me. I can't always control my temper and I fear that one of these days, I'll become my father and hurt someone. I don't want to hurt anyone. I don't want to start something with Beth again only to end up hurting her more than before. She doesn't get that. She doesn't get that I can't always control myself.

I never want to hurt her, I'd never mean to hurt her, but things happen. One day I might not be able to control myself and if that day comes and Beth is there- I might hurt her so bad that neither of us might ever come back from it.

I pray it never comes to that.