The Prize of Dysprosium

Chapter X: Insanity Workshop

It takes at least an hour before I've gotten enough of a hold on myself that I can tell her what happened. She knows about Anton of course. She was the one who took all my anger and sorrow when I was banished as the Government favourite and couldn't see him anymore. When I tell her that I'd done my best to forget about him she tilts her head to the side. "You can't forget someone if you love them. It's like getting your arm amputated and forgetting you ever had one. The arm will always have been a part of you, no matter how well you adapt to a life without it."

Afterwards, I sit quietly and stare at my closet until Garmen gets us some food and begins reading a magazine as I try to put out an internal crossfire. I have no idea how long I lie there, but at one point Ricardo comes to get us because rush hour starts in a couple of hours.

Garmen dresses in her usual angel costume although she puts on fishnet stockings and white stilletoes which makes her almost as tall as Sammie. I pull myself together and dress in purple with glitter lipstick and mascara to draw out my eyes. Then Barooba shuffles us into the line and opens the doors.

I'm chosen by a large man who uses a whole hour to ask me questions about whether I know who this Piece is. When I repeatedly answer that I don't, he grunts and leaves. When I tell Barooba about it she says that he's likely a narc visiting different brothels. He'll probably come back in a few days with a new coat and glasses to try his luck with one of the girls.

The night is still young, but customers after rush hour is scarce. I do a line of cocaine I buy from Alivia with a promise to share Gunnar's mix with her next time I buy some – I'm not going to reveal to her I am in the possession of gold – and we sit upstairs hidden by the staircase and listen for the door opening. She's tripping hard, keep telling me how happy she is to be alive, but I can barely feel it. Lately I've needed greater doses of drugs to get me high, but it's only once I take it I realize my heart isn't beating itself out of my chest anymore. I let out a deep sigh, the realization I might have a problem hitting me like a wall. I also know I'm not going to do anything about it. It would actually be an easy way to die: Take an overdose, let my heart arrest, die happy, almost like the last meal of the starving girls. Easier than cutting my wrists with a knife, and Garmen wouldn't blame herself because she'd think it was an accident.

I'm in such a dark hole that when Alivia kisses me, I'm so touch-starved I can't think of any reason not to kiss her back. We stumble backwards into my room, both forgetting that we're supposed to be at work, grabbing at each other's scarse clothes. Alivia is giggling, probably thinking I'm tripping just as hard as her when in reality I'm trying to devour her to fill up the empty the exploded mass left in my chest cavity. She thrusts me down on the bed, then takes off my underpants and begins working me until I'm hard and she can guide me into her. It's clear she knows exactly how a male body work, although she has to explore for a bit to find out where on my body her touch will set me off. And still I can't come.

She does, however. Cry out and rolls off me, her body going limp on the madras beside me.

"That was brilliant," she breathes although I hardly did anything. I don't even look at her, which ultimately leads to her rolling out of my bed and I hear her exit and close the door behind her. I don't have the capacity to worry about whether I've hurt her with my indifference. But maybe she's too high to have noticed. Instead I lie on my side and try to fall asleep while staring at the wall. I wish I had something to knock me out, a sleeping drought or something stronger. I end up trying to count sheep and awaken multiple times throughout the night.

At a point, I wake up from something I know was a nightmare because I'm tangled in my blankets and sweat makes my hair stick to my scalp. It takes me a good few minutes of preparing to shut my eyes again when I notice there is someone lurking at me in the corner. For a horrible, panicky moment I think I'm hallucinating Father George lurking in the shadows. My body lunges into a tremor I can't control, but then I realize it's not him and annoyance takes over from fear.