Retribution: The Cure for Agony

Chapter 12: Contemplation

** Warning: Graphic depictions of violence. **

The TV's volume was low.

My head was buried in my arm as I laid face down, listening to a few episodes of Lost. I needed a distraction and the noise definitely helped. My thoughts wandered, realizing I should have seen the show sooner, but I have always had a tendency to ignore bandwagons when they arise.

I always concentrated on where my endearment was, even when it wasn't healthy. I couldn't be coerced to watch or do something when I didn't have the patience or interest. Obviously this didn't apply to the more serious predicaments I found myself in, but sometimes I had agreed to do or say certain things, especially if there was something in it for me.

Usually, it was in the form of an ulterior motive; it being formulated to obtain things I desired that wouldn't be viewed as socially acceptable. I assumed this was human nature, considering most people didn't want to be seen as a cunt or douchebag.

Instead we lie.

When I was in high school, I told a girl, Vanessa, I loved her and attended all the solicitous events to appease whatever expectations she had.

Ulterior motive: pussy

I believed any young man who said he was searching for love was either full of shit or had some deeply rooted emotional damage. Of course when a woman sees damaged goods, she makes it her mission to help—unless she has some dignity.

I probably would have confided in Vanessa if I wasn't such a womanizer, but I never wanted to get close because I didn't have the time or attention span to focus on some teenage girl's drama or what she thought of mine. I had things at home to worry about and I couldn't add another element of stress to my life. It was easier to ignore what was going on and get out when I could.

It wasn't until after my move out that I took an interest in love. I should have known better; the drama Alice caused cost me a lot.

I became so fixated that I did things that I never would have seen myself doing. After that, the huge, drained part of me just accepted who I had become. I accepted the idea that I'd never be able to love again, but eventually enough time passed and I started to notice what a woman Melody became.

She didn't have a lot of drama besides her dad going to prison. Right now, her only problem was Evan. I could feel my heart drop when I discovered he was cheating on her from all the heated text messages on her phone. I assumed Evan's mother was terminally ill because when Melody wished death on her, he didn't message her back.

I was half tempted to message him, but I'd either stir some vacuous feelings or he'd know someone was fucking with him. He'd be another loose end, but so was Melody if I actually let her live. It didn't seem likely since she rejected the truth and what about all the factors I hadn't considered?

I knew it was a mistake bringing her here without taking the necessary precautions, but in my defense I was thinking with the wrong head. Everything was fucked and I felt as though I could shoot myself, yet I needed to live with the pain I caused.

Surprisingly, I never considered suicide an option before. I always ran, but I didn't have the energy to run anymore. I needed to face my past and all the problems I created; I needed to take responsibility.

Maybe I'll see my family after this.

~~~

Orange and red hues casted against the travertine floor, barely lighting the living room. I groaned and shifted to face the back of the couch, staring at all the fine lines running through the leather.