What did he really want?

A socially isolated young woman becomes intensely attached to an unknown man, leading to a strange relationship.

They suggested I try a drama class. I’d felt isolated from reality for a few months now and needed something to pull me back, they thought meeting new people and expressing my feelings through acting would help. I’d reluctantly gone to a local school of which I’d never heard. I was late and an assistant showed me to a backstage area that led up a skeletal metal staircase to the stage where the director was calling out character names. The most important characters were called first for the more experienced actors to fight over. I remained in a dimly lit corner until the extra, ‘stage filler’ characters were called; the dregs. They called for us to come up closer to the stage door so I sloped up the stairs and leaned against the dull metal bar at a corner in the stairs. The director called out another character name and looked around for volunteers.

“You could do well as that, you’re attractive enough.”

I turned to my left and saw him.

He was nothing special; medium height, medium built, medium face. He had jet black hair gelled away from his pale face, and penetrating, almost wild eyes. I felt a pull from him, forgetting everything around me, focusing on him and him only. He seemed relaxed, cool and offhand yet as soon as we made eye contact, his look was intense.

We became so close in such a short time. We barely touched, sometimes we didn’t even speak for hours but it was enough. When we did talk, it was never about our previous lives �"our families, our friends �" I don’t remember what we did talk about. We were always together. I had never known someone in such a way, I couldn’t escape his orbit - the more time I spent with him, the more I was pulled in, unable to leave. I couldn’t understand how adoring of me he was, how he could express such infatuation with me. I was falling hopelessly, effortlessly, happily into his charming play, he became my World and I his. I became obsessed.

It finally came that I stayed at his apartment. Again, nothing special. It seemed fairly neat, with generic possessions that a mid-20s bachelor would have. Nothing to show any personal interests or passions. We stayed in his bedroom, lying on the bed and listening to music for hours whilst staring at each other until we made love. It was slow and simple. Fair to say that he was good and I enjoyed it but if you were expected a passionate, tense, cover-grabbing scene then I’m sorry to disappoint.

Later, we left in search of food and headed to the kitchen. In the hallway he reached out and gently but firmly took my hand and turned me to face him. “What do you think of sex and drugs?” This was a shocking question, not the question itself but the fact that he was asking. His eyes had a crazed look in them, taking over his body and changing his persona completely. He made almost comedic mimes of sniffing cocaine and giving oral sex but he didn’t mean it as funny, giving me intense but mad, animal-like looks as if he thought I’d suddenly become keen. I was entirely frightened. It felt as though he was planning to violate me with drugs and constant sex until I was completely destroyed. I panicked that his brooding, sultry manner which had seduced me and sucked me in was actually a poor cover up for him to brainwash me into thinking he saw me as an actual human being so he could consume my entire energy.

The sudden change in character had confused me and I had to escape. I wasn’t imprisoned - we were just in his flat �" but I suddenly felt like a prisoner under the reign of a deranged warden. I explained that I wasn’t into his sexual preferences and had to go to the lounge to get something before going to the kitchen. I paced downstairs to where I’d left my stuff whilst he moved across the landing to the kitchen. I’d barely seen the lounge as we’d walked through it earlier but started to notice the room wasn’t as normal as I thought it was. Random unidentifiable bits of metal and tools were laying around and a hand gun half-hidden under a deep red blanket.

I’d barely packed anything when I saw his feet appear at the top of the stairs. Why had I even stopped to pack my things? I had nothing of real value with me, I could have left straight away and yet now I was stuck watching these feet slowly move down, bringing with them the cool, blank-faced man I’d become obsessed with. I grabbed the gun and pointed it at him, my hands somehow steady and my body oddly calm. He glided towards me, having no reaction to the gun aimed at his face, until he was merely a meter away from me. In panic, I shot the gun 3 times into the top of a wall. The gun didn’t make 3 clean holes like it was supposed to. Instead it made 9, 3 identical repeats of 3 holes making a triangle.

I lowered my arm and looked in confusion to him as he stepped towards me, took hold of my arms and moved me down so I was sitting on the coffee table helplessly whilst he knelt in front of me. “You see how I’ve modified the gun? The bullets break into the 3 pieces making the hit messier and more painful. Like a shotgun.” His face was so close, he smiled like an angel, staring deeply into my eyes and �" pressing one side of my forehead 3 times with his thumb �" said “It was meant for here, here and here. For you.”  

Author's Note

Is the storyline too random? Do you think I should have made any areas longer or shorter or described more? Please don't hold anything back.