We went right home and I sat on the guest bed in fear. I hugged my knees, afraid to turn off the lights. They were a comfort. If I turned them off, it was as if I would be alone with whatever predators I could imagine. I was sweating in fear.
I looked at my phone that was still turned off. I wanted to call my parents, but I didn't want to be a burden. I kept the light on and hid under my blankets.
***
Day 25
A week later, I was nearly catatonic with fear from the experience. I spent very little time with Jo, and spent most of my time in his guest bedroom room. I couldn't stop thinking about the resounding click of the gun as it pressed against his skull; I couldn't stop thinking of my own past experience with guns and late-night predators.
I stopped showering again and for the most part I just liked to sleep.
Jo knocked on my door. "I have to talk to you, Shawna..."
I said nothing. I was in tears. I knew he was going to kick me out. I buried my head in my knees that were pulled up to my chest.
Jo opened the door. At the sight of my distraught form, he rushed to my side and put a hand on my back. "Shawna--I'm not stupid. Please, just tell me what's wrong with you. You won't even talk to me about when we got mugged, and from the beginning you've seemed so defensive and secretive."
I told him the truth. I couldn't lie a second longer and couldn't stand to suffer alone. "I'm depressed and racked with anxiety. I know that must be meaningless to you, but I just can't shake it."
Jo rubbed my back comfortingly. "You've been diagnosed?"
I nodded.
He didn't fully comprehend what that meant; I was sure he had his doubts about how bad it really was. But he was kind. He wanted nothing more than to help me. "It's not meaningless. You're shut up all alone in here with your problems. You won't come out to greet me anymore most of the time, and you're eating like a bird. I miss your company."
He put a hand on my right arm recoiled from me when he discovered it was metal. Jo frowned sadly. "You took a little more of that serum?"
I was silent and I looked to the side.
He sighed and blinked away past pain. "I was going to let you stay here, but I change my mind. You can't stay. Not unless you promise me you won't take any more of that serum."
I didn't know what to say. I didn't want to agree to such a rule because I wasn't sure I could actually conform to it. I kept injecting myself brashly--because I couldn't deal with pain. I couldn't be sure I wouldn't just do it again. But I wanted to stay with him, so I told him, "I won't do it again."
He smiled. He truly believed it. It was easy to get good people to believe lies. I felt bad, but not bad enough to tell him that I might, at a moment's notice, inject myself again.
"Have you tried therapy?" He asked.
I nodded with a sullen frown. "That was the first thing I tried... I did the full sixteen weeks. It didn't work."
"So what are you going to do?" He asked.
I looked him in the eyes with tears and then looked away, shaking my head.
"You can't just stay in here all day long. How about you just come out here and watch movies with me every other night again?" Jo suggested gently. "It's a start."
I nodded silently. "Give me a chance to shower. I'll come and watch movies with you now."
Jo left the room. I stepped into the adjoining shower and washed days of dirt off myself. It smelled like metal whenever I took showers now.
***
Day 39
We had fun together. And it felt like I was slowly getting better for awhile. He often tried to get me to do things I didn't want to do. He wanted me to try support groups; he wanted to get me back into therapy--I cringed when he suggested drugs. He settled for making a deal where I went outside with him once a week.
This was good because, while he was gone, all I ever did was fixate on past traumas and sleep. If I was feeling especially good, I would read some of the fantasy books on his shelf or use his computer for a bit.
I was withdrawn when he took me out to dinner on specified days of the week. He noticed me sitting absolutely still, looking at my hands with a frown.
Jo put his menu down and asked, "I'm sorry. Should I not have taken you out tonight?"
There was a lot of noise. But it wasn't so much that I felt overwhelmed or scared as it was that I felt very alone when I saw everyone else in the restaurant laughing and having a good time. There were big families of seven seated together talking about good experiences together. I had good memories of that with my family too.
I shook my head. "I just... Don't want to feel this way any longer."
I was crying. He looked a little uncomfortable; he didn't want me to cry in public. "Come on, let's go home."
I dried my eyes with my napkin. "No, you must be starving. Go ahead and order. You don't have to order anything for me if you don't want to."
He made a face. "I hardly see you eat anything. You're losing weight by the second. I can almost see your bones! I'm ordering for you and it's a waste if you don't eat it."
I smiled a little and dried my eyes. "Fine..."
I asked for a salad, and the waiter obliged. I sank into my chair miserably. Jo watched my empathetically. "I can't stand to see you suffer like this..."
"I don't know why you care so much. I mean, I'm incredibly grateful that you do, but nobody should have the kind of patience you do for me. Especially since I was a stranger at first."
He looked at me intensely with a longing frown. "I'm in love with you."
I looked back at him blankly and almost coldly. "Why?"
"I can't explain it. There's something about you..." He shook his head.
I'd be lying if I told him I didn't have feelings for him as well. I fantasized about him, I thought about him all the time, and I had the uncontrollable desire to sleep with him. But I wasn't well enough to. I knew what would happen if I tried. I was trouble, and I knew I was trouble. I was burden on my parents and I was a burden on him. The difference was that he never made me feel like a burden.
He leaned forward and looked off wistfully. "I have this feeling that you're going to inject the rest of that serum into your veins though. I can't stand to lose another person to that poison."
I looked away awkwardly. "Like your girlfriend?"
Jo was shocked, "how did you know?"
"I went through your things..." I knew he wouldn't kick me out--even knowing that. He was lonely; he wouldn't put up with me otherwise. He wanted more than a fling, and I provided that for him at the moment.
He just smiled and shook his head. "I can't believe you... You're nothing like how she was. So sneaky and secretive and complex. She was actually my wife. She was fiery and confident. But after a year of marriage, she cheated on me. She got pregnant with some other guy's baby and chose to inject herself with the serum rather than have the baby and face the consequences that came with it."
I was shocked. "You didn't love her by the end, then?"
He shook his head. "I loved her. I would never have taken care of someone else's child, but I loved her. That girl got under my skin."
The waiter brought by our water.
Jo waited until the waiter left to ask, "are you going to tell me why?"
"Why what?" I replied.
"Why you're so depressed. How does one go from therapist to depressed?" He asked, crossing his arms.
I couldn't tell him without bursting into a puddle of tears. I wouldn't tell him. I had tried to before, but I just couldn't get up the guts.
"I'm sorry. I just can't talk about that. I used to have a lot of money though. A nice apartment, good friends... A lot of the other clinicians were shocked at how good I was with people. I seemed quiet and antisocial to them, but once they got to know me, they loved me. My clients did too. That was what I loved so much about it; when I had a success, it felt like I was on this earth for a reason."
He was listening intently with a smile. "You made an impact on them?"
I nodded silently.
"You made an impact on me, too. I love coming home to see you there. I don't want you to leave."
I said nothing. But I thought to myself, I should take that poison, to spare you falling in love with me.
***
Back at his house, I flung my coat aside and Jo lay on his couch, closing his eyes. I fantasized about laying on top of him and kissing him. After a moment, he opened his eyes and stood up with a stretch. He looked at me curiously. "What?"
"You can kiss me if you want." I told him nervously.
He stood up and walked over to me slowly. He looked into my red, robotic eye, and my green, human eye. He put a hand on my cheek and kissed me.
I enjoyed it for a second. I kissed him back. I had a fantasy where I took things further--grabbing at his belt and unbuckling it--but after a moment, my human wrist ached and my head wouldn't let me forget past traumas. I pushed him away in terror and breathed harshly.
There was silence. He probably had an inkling of what happened to me now.
He used humor to quell my nerves though. He said sheepishly. "That bad?"
I shook my head. "It's not that. I never should have done something so stupid. I'm sorry."
"It was just a kiss... Tasted like metal." He said thoughtfully.
I laughed a little. "You taste like coffee. I've seen you take mugs of coffee into the shower..."
***
Day 42
"What the hell is this?" Jo demanded to me three days later. He held up a newspaper article that featured me as a missing person. My parents must have been very worried about me.
Jo was angry. More angry than I had ever seen him. He threw the newspaper down. "You told me you called your parents! What were you thinking?"
I was crying. "I'm sorry! I didn't want to tell them. I didn't feel comfortable enough to."
"I could get into trouble if you don't speak up! It looks like I kidnapped you! You have to go home, Shawna."
I couldn't stop crying. I couldn't say anything through my tears. I swallowed a lump in my throat. I managed to say, "please... Don't make me go."
"Don't cry, Shawna! Have you been manipulating me this whole time? Did you just want to get away from your parents? Have you used those tears against me?" He demanded.
I had used my tears against him. But it was because I wanted to be with him. "I have. But only because you understand me. Only because I love you."
He had tears of his own. "I can't love a woman who's sick! I'm taking advantage of you!"
"I'm not too sick to love you! It's the only thing I feel other than despair! I want you..." I reached out to him, feeling dizzy.
He reached out too--he wanted me too--but he recoiled like he had when he touched my metal arm. "I can't make love to a woman who will someday be completely metal. I know that's what's going to happen to you... I couldn't stand to experience you naked knowing one day your body will be metal."
I was in pain. He was correct. I couldn't make love to him either--because I was sick. I would only regret trying to. I was too sick to love or be loved. He was better off without me.
Everyone was.
***
Day 75
I had moved back in with my parents and half my body was made of metal now. My right leg, arm, and face were all metal. My torso was spared. I still had the option for children.
Most of my days were spent leaning my head against my bedroom window, thinking about Jo. I tried to get better so I could be with him. I tried therapy again. I tried to do activities I used to love. I would be on the upswing for a little while, and then I would drag myself back down into despair by constant rumination of past mistakes and traumas.
I decided that today, I would inject the rest of the serum. There was no point in being human anymore. There was no point of constantly being in pain and constantly making others worry about you.
My parents were out shopping. I decided to take a little walk and do it a little ways away from home. I put the syringe in my pocket and walked downstairs and out the front door slowly; my hands in my pockets.
But just then, a red car pulled up by the driveway. I recognized it. It was Jo's. He stepped out and saw me.
I looked at him with tears in my human eye and turned away. I began walking quickly away from him.
I took out the syringe. I wanted there to be no way out. I wanted this to be the end. I pressed it to my skin.
Jo grabbed my shoulder and turned me around. "What are you doing?"
I looked into his eyes searchingly. Tears running expressionlessly down my cheeks. "I'm freeing myself and everyone else who knows me from this burden!"
I put the syringe to my scarred wrist again but he seized my wrist before I could. I struggled, trying with all my strength to inject it, but he wouldn't let me.
"You're still here for a reason, aren't you? You're here because you're in love with me. I'm here because I love you, too. I can't let you go."
When I ignored him and tried to inject it a third time, he kissed me. I still had the compulsive thought of injecting the serum, but it melted away after a moment while he kissed me. That was the one thing I needed to cling to humanity for just a second longer. I dropped the syringe, so I could put my hands on his cheeks and kiss him back.
I leaned my head against his chest and wept bitterly. "I'll never be better. I'll always be alone with myself. Everyone will abandon me and I'll die a lonely death on the street."
He said adamantly, "I won't let anyone hurt you; not even you. I can't stand the way you treat yourself."
"You can't stand my metal parts. You'll abandon me!" I sobbed hysterically. I wanted him to confirm it. I wanted a reason to use that syringe.
But he wouldn't give in. "I don't care that some of you is metal. There's something inside of you I love that isn't metal or flesh; I can't even describe it, and my head won't let me forget it."
That was it. He truly loved me and it scared me to no end. I couldn't stand the thought of a man so wonderful eternally and irrevocably wanting someone as worthless as I was.
I broke away from him, grabbed the syringe and injected it into my wrist.
***
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