Possessions
Chapter 11
By: Makena
Makena slowly let herself into her room, Benji following closely behind. He glanced around the room as he absently shut the door behind him. The curtains had been drawn shut and the bed hadn't been made. Clothes and empty alcohol bottles were scattered around the floor.
Makena kicked some of her things out of the way and picked some of the empty bottles up, tossing them into the trash.
"Sorry about the mess," she apologized. "I told the maid's not to bother, but I think I'll have them come by tomorrow."
Benji nodded and stood against the door, watching as she tried to make the bed a little.
"So, umm... did you want something to drink?" she asked, opening the mini fridge beside the television and dresser. Benji shook his head.
"No, thanks," he replied when he saw there was nothing but alcohol.
Makena nodded and took out a bottle of scotch. "Oh, right," she said, grabbing a glass. "You gave that up." She paused. "Are you sure you don't want anything?" Benji shook his head. Makena grinned and waved the bottle around for a second. "You sure?" she tempted.
"I think this is peer pressure," Benji told her somewhat skeptically. "But no, thank you."
Makena shrugged and slowly poured the contents of her bottle into the glass. She took a sip and walked to her bed, sitting down. She stared distantly at the wall for a minuet, taking another sip before glancing back up at Benji, giving him a weary smile.
"You can come in, you know," she told him. Benji blushed slightly, suddenly aware that he was standing uncomfortably in front of the door. He had asked to talk to her, but he didn't understand why he suddenly had gone from bold to nervous.
He took a step forward before pausing again, glancing around once more as if the room had some how changed from that angle. Makena had taken a cigarette from the bedside table and was now smoking, waiting for Benji to say something.
"You said you wanted to talk," Makena said, looking up at him finally. Benji nodded slightly and slowly walked over to the small table by the window and sat himself down on one of the chairs.
"Yeah," he agreed. Makena raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to continue.
"Well...? What did you want to talk about?"
Benji shrugged. "Just... talk," he replied, feeling his confidence build. He paused. "So... did you try to kill yourself?"
Makena sighed. She looked towards the bottom of her glass before tipping it back, letting the liquid slide down her throat. "Yeah," she replied finally. "But trying isn't exactly doing. Get it?" Benji nodded, thought he wasn't exactly sure what she meant.
"Please - don't make me talk about it, okay?" she quickly added. "I don't want to talk about that."
"Yeah," Benji agreed. "I... I know what you mean."
Makena cocked her head slightly before forming a silent "oh" on her lips and taking another sip of her drink. "I forgot," she said. "Sorry."
Benji shrugged. "So... how have you been?" Benji asked before he could catch himself. He knew full well; he was sitting across from a girl with with dyed black hair from it's original blonde, wearing nothing but black with two deep cuts imprinted across her wrist and holding a nearly finished drink.
Makena rolled her eyes slightly and finished her drink with a large gulp. "Oh, just dandy," she replied sarcastically. She paused. "I wrote a book, you know. It's published and everything."
Benji nodded. "I know," he admitted. "Paul has a copy."
Makena nodded. "Yeah," she said. "I'd give you a copy, but... he took the only one I had with me."
Benji shrugged. "It's okay."
Makena nodded and began to pour herself more scotch, taking a long, slow drink. Benji watched with interest and concern.
"So... uh... Aaron's wedding is coming up," Benji began, watching as Makena put her already empty glass down and started pouring another. She nodded, not taking her eyes off her drink.
"He's really lucky," Makena said. "He found some one he loves and love him back." She paused. "I wish I could find some one like that."
Benji didn't say anything and watched as she polished off her glass and started to pour yet another.
"Don't you think you've had enough?" Makena looked up at him. She frowned. Benji suddenly realized he had made a mistake.
'Never ask an alcoholic if they've had enough,' he reminded himself. He glanced back up at Makena, who, he was surprised to see, had burst into silent tears.
"Yes," she muttered to no one in particular. She glanced up at Benji, eye's watery and face already tear stained. "I... I need help."
Benji suddenly realized the uncomfortableness of the situation and fidgeted a little. Makena had dropped her glass to the floor, a muffled "thud" rising from the carpet. She was bent over slightly, hands on her head and sobbing quietly.
"Uhh..." Benji stammered, unsure of what to say.
"Just leave, okay?" she asked, furiously wiping tears from her face. Benji said nothing. There was a long pause. "Leave!"
"Makena..."
"Leave!" she screamed. Through tears she managed to pick up the scotch bottle - not yet finished - and throw it across the room. Benji ducked as the bottle smashed behind him; the scene became familiar to him as he remembered bottles being thrown at him before, and vice versa. He jumped from his seat and quickly left without a second thought.
He stood in the hallway for a minute, trying to remember exactly what had happened. The door to Billy and Paul's room flung open and Billy's head poked out. He frowned slightly in confusion when he noticed Benji standing by himself just outside Makena's door.
"What the hell was that?" he asked, stepping into the hall while snapping his door shut. "I heard something break and then the door slam." He paused. "Wait - did you go in there?!" Benji nodded. Billy's eyes went wide in surprise.
"Really?" Billy paused again. "Uhh... why?"
Benji sighed. "Look, if you're interested, ask her," Benji told him. "Because I just don't know." Benji stuck his hands in his pockets and began to head towards the elevator.
Billy, lost in confusion, knocked on Makena's door. "Makena?" he calmly called. He knocked again when he got no reply. "Makena? It's me - Billy. Can I come in?" He paused and pressed his ear to the door.
"Makena? I know you're in there! Can I please come in?"
From down the hall an elevator opened and Paul stepped out, book clutched in one hand. He looked tired and lost in thought, but Billy paid no attention to that.
"Paul!" he cried out. "Paul! Come here! Help me get Makena out of her room."
Paul walked towards the door and knocked. "Makena? Are you in there?" He paused and looked at Billy. He lowered his voice and said, "why are we trying to get her out?"
"Benj just had a little chat with her, but he wouldn't say what happened." He shrugged. "I'm just a little curious."
Paul sighed, but continued to knock. "Makena?" he called again. He paused once more. Billy tried again.
"Makena! Come on! Please let us in?"
"Billy, where DID Benji go?"
Billy paused and thought about it. "Um... I'm not sure." He shifted weight from one leg to the other. "I'll go look for him."
Paul watched as Billy took off down the hall before he continued knocking.
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Makena dried her eyes with a kleenex before slipping on a sweatshirt over her tank top. She lowered her skirt and quickly slipped into a pair of jeans as Billy continued to knock on the door.
She glanced over at the door as he spoke. She sighed and grabbed her purse. Quickly she walked to the window and opened it, pushing the screen out. She sat on the windowsill and carefully swung her legs over one at a time.
Slowly, Makena began climbing down the fire escape, making sure she wouldn't fall. She slipped and fell the last few steps, landing on her back side on the dirty ground. Glancing up at her own window, she breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn't fallen from that height before she realized there was a searing pain in her right wrist.
Leaning on her left hand, she quickly lifted her right hand and noticed that a jagged piece of glass had pierced her flesh and was now just visible among the crimson blood that gushed out and onto the cement. Where she had failed at the attempted suicide the glass made up for it, for the piece of glass had penetrated her artery. More shocked than nervous or even scared for her life, she watched the blood continue to pour from her wrist before she looked for something to keep the bleeding down until she could clear her head enough to think.
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Benji kept his hands stuffed in his pockets as he wandered around the all too familiar streets of Waldorf. He kept his head turned down as a violent, sudden burst of wind came tearing in his direction. He looked up only once to make sure he had come to the right place.
All he could think of was Makena and the problems that she was now having. He wasn't good with dealing with problems - not other's and especially not his own. His mind was swimming and he knew of only one way to make it stop.
Quickly, he opened the door and disappeared into the dark, smokey ambiance of the local bar.