Kill Me
Chapter 3
By: Makena
A week had passed and Callie woke early the morning of Thanksgiving to clean her room. The door rang at about ten and she raced down the stairs to answer it, since Kelly was cleaning and her father was in the room that was supposed to be a den, but he had transformed into what he called a "studio." Callie looked at the time again and sighed. Nobody would be there for a long while yet, except...
"Grandma," Callie said, straightening out her plaid skirt.
"Callie!" her grandmother cried happily. "I haven't seen you in so long - you look almost like your father did when he was your age."
Callie shrugged and let her grandmother hug her.
"Now, where's your mother?"
Callie shrugged.
"She took off when I was five," she replied, letting her grandmother in the house.
"Kelly. Where is she? I've come to help out with the dinner."
Callie grinned widely and directed the woman into the kitchen.
-----
Callie had to wait until three before anyone came over, but she didn't answer the door anymore. Instead, she just waited in the living room or the hallway or her bedroom where she wouldn't be a bother. Finally, Callie walked down the stairs and tried to steal a bit of the food, but was shooed off along with her uncle Joel and one of her little brat of a cousins her father's older brother had produced.
Instead of sneaking back into the kitchen for another attempt with her uncle, Callie climbed the stairs to escape the noise of the crowded house. Paul was emerging from the bathroom as she reached the top, and he smiled widely at her.
"Callie!" he said. "What's up? I haven't seen you in ages."
Callie plastered a smile on her face and hugged the man. "I'm waiting to eat," she told him.
"I am too," Paul admitted. "I'm hungry."
"Uncle Joel's down stairs trying to sneak some food if you want to join him," Callie informed him.
"I think I might have to. Up to a game of pool?"
"Maybe later," Callie said, her eyes falling to the scar on Paul's left hand. "I'm just a little tired - I was thinking about taking a nap or something before we eat."
Callie tore her eyes away from Paul and noticed a slightly younger man emerging from her parent's bedroom, his hands stuffed in his pockets. "Billy," Callie said, nodding at him.
"Callie," Billy said, returning the gesture. "Nice bedroom your dad has."
Callie shrugged looked at Paul again, who announced that he was going to try to steal some food and left Billy and Callie alone in the hallway.
"How's life?" he asked her.
Callie shrugged. "Shitty," she replied. "I was hoping maybe I could talk to you? I mean, just about random shit I'm supposed to dump on my friends, but - alas! I'm still without them."
Billy nodded and followed Callie into her bedroom, making sure nobody had seen them go in. Once inside, Callie shut the door softly and locked it, letting the older man kiss her passionately on the lips. Not surprised by the kiss at all, Callie leaned heavily against the door and returned Billy's kiss. They ripped at each other's shirts until they were both off and Callie tugged at Billy's belt. Billy gently ran his fingers down her bare arms while Callie struggled to get her skirt off.
"I... told you... to stop..." Billy told her between kisses, but he was more concentrated on her than on the cuts on her arms.
"I'll stop when you stop," she breathed as Billy began to softly kiss her neck.
They leaned against Callie's door for a while before Callie directed them to her bed where they ripped the sheets down and continued to kiss and make love.
------
Callie lay on the end of her bed wearing her skirt and a bra, smoking a cigarette. Billy had his head against the back board and was wearing nothing but his boxers. "Do you think what we did was dirty?" Callie asked him.
Billy shook his head. "Nope."
"Having sex with some one half your age doesn't bother you?"
Billy shook his head again. "Nope. Do you think it was illegal?"
"Very." Callie laughed a little and blew smoke off the side of her bed. She knew it was illegal - he could do some serious prison time for what they had done.
They sat in silence for a moment again, Billy looking around her room as Callie listened to the laughter and the noises from down the stairs while concentrating on what was happening outside.
"Why do you keep cutting yourself?" Billy asked finally, looking back down at Callie as she finished her cigarette and put it out on the wooden floor.
"Because I do," she sighed.
She hated conversations that involved her cutting herself - she got them from people who tried to be nice to her at school and she couldn't stand it.
"Why do you?" she asked in return, looking back up at her older friend.
Billy shrugged. Apparently, neither of them liked to talk about it.
"Well... stop," Callie said, sitting up. "Or do it somewhere else on your arms - but not your wrists."
"I'll stop if you stop," Billy told her.
"I know, I know," Callie said, "But you slash your wrists. I'm scared your gonna cut too deep some day and have to get rushed to the hospital or even end up killing yourself."
Billy shook his head. "I won't," he told her. "I don't cut deep enough. You know why?"
Callie shook her head, her eyes falling to what looked like a couple of new cuts on his wrists.
"Because your dad used to do it to himself and he was rushed to the hospital at least twice a year from 16 to 22."
Callie frowned - she hadn't known her father had done it to himself as well. "Still..." she sighed, but she couldn't get the picture of her father, laying in the back of his brother's car or his mother's car, bleeding to death.
Neither of them said anything for a while until Billy spoke again. "So... why do you do it?"
Callie sighed and rolled her eyes, picking at a lose thread that was on one of the sheets. "I don't like talking about it," she said softly.
"I'm gonna take a shot at it," he said, rearranging his position on her bed. "You don't like your step-mom, you think life is pointless, you're misunderstood and that's the cause for you not having any friends at your school and you're angry at your father for marrying Kelly when all you want is the real mother you haven't seen in 11 years." He paused. "Is that right?"
Callie sighed. "Pretty much," she said. "But what about you? You've got parents and money and friends. Why do you feel the need to slash your wrists?"
"Actually, you're wrong about me having friends," Billy told her. "I thought I did - and maybe I do. But I'm alone most of the time and..."
He paused and listened to the noise outside Callie's bedroom door. "Shit..." he whispered, jumping off her bed and scrambling around for his clothes.
Callie jumped too, pulling her shirt back on and her knee socks. She cracked her window open for a second to push her cigarette butt though it as she tried to re-make her bed.
"Callie?" she could hear her father. "We're calling everyone to dinner now."
Callie motioned for Billy to sit on the bed and pretend like nothing had happened as she softly unlocked her door.
"Callie?"
"Uh, yeah dad," she said. "Okay..."
Benji softly turned the knob and opened it, seeing his daughter sitting on the end of her bed, talking innocently to Billy. "What are you guys doing in here?" Benji questioned, standing in the doorway.
"Talking," Callie answered quickly.
"And smoking," Benji said, detecting the smoky smell. "Callie, we told you to quit."
"Sorry," Billy spoke up. "That was me... I probably shouldn't have been smoking in front of your daughter."
Benji looked suspiciously at the two and slowly nodded. "Anyway, we're calling people to dinner."
"We'll be down in a second," Callie reassured him, watching him turn to walk down the steps.
"We'd better get down there or people'll start to wonder," Billy said.
Callie nodded and kissed him passionately on the lips one more time before they headed out of Callie's room and down the stairs.