Thursday, July 3, 2008

Chapter Thirty Nine

Jon just stared at her in horror as she sat there refusing to say a word or speak to him or acknowledge him. "Frankie? please don't do this, you're acting like a spoilt five year old" he said hoping to get a fiery response from her but got nothing. The entire weekend was the same, she didn’t speak, she didn’t move and she didn’t eat anything that he prepared her or ordered in. She got up to go to the bathroom but like a "good prisoner" she'd sit back at the wall again. Holy fuck, what had he done? CC had been given a heavy dose of morphine so she had been sleeping most of the weekend, and there was no way in fuck he was telling her this to stress her out, she seemed content to just know Frankie was resting and in good health.

By Sunday when he woke and moved into the living room he stood there in shock. God she had really done it, she hadn’t slept or ate or done anything all weekend except stare at the fuckin wall, she was as stubborn as the sky was blue when trying to prove her point. Fuck he was on the edge of insanity dealing with it.

"Frankie please talk to me honey, I have tried this all weekend, and you've said nothing" he said quietly kneeling down beside her but she didn’t flinch. Fuck, what was he going to do, Richie wouldn’t be free till this afternoon. He didn't want to jeopardize his time with Ava as Heather was anal enough as it was about how he spent the time with her.
He knelt down "Please talk to me, don’t you want to have a shower and something to eat, Richie will be around later," he asked softly.

She was gonna go blind, forever more seeing just white thanks to that goddamned wall. She wasn't gonna give in though, nope, he wanted a good obedient daughter, one that stayed put, so he was getting it. She wanted to scream, whimper, beg, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction. At this point, she'd given up on the idea of freedom and individuality. She was a cog in the Bon Jovi machine, and it was eating her alive.

Still she was as silent as a stone, nothing not a word or a bite like she usually would. Fuck. "Frankie!!!!" he yelled at her finally feeling his patience slip "You know how selfish this is, you haven’t even gone and seen your mother this weekend, she’s been worried but I have fed her some bullshit about you being happy to just relax etc. So think about that" he spat as he stood back up and turned around. What the hell was he going to do? Wait till Richie got here and then what?
She closed her eyes a moment. Mom was ok, she had Jon to take care of her. At least he was taking her outside for fresh air. Maybe only to the patio, but fuck it was outside. She'd even caught a glance of flashing bulbs but that could have been her imagination.

Go ahead, yell at me. she shivered as his words washed over her, condemning her again for not caring about her mom. What did he know? If she went in there mom would know something was up, Mom was good like that, even on morphine. Safer to just stay put. And still she sat.

Jon just walked out of the room and slammed the door hard. "Fuck" he muttered as he sat down on the patio. What was he doing? He wasn't cut out for handling this shit. He had no idea, it was like Steph had gone to bed and woke up ten years older. He'd missed the ten years in between of being able to deal with her. His eyes settled on a car that was pulling into the driveway. Richie, thank fuck he was earlier than Jon expected but her was here.

Richie pulled into Jon's apartment glad to have spent the weekend with his little girl, that every time he saw her wasn’t so little anymore, she was growing up way too fast, but he was proud as anything of her. He noticed Jon out on the patio having a smoke when he arrived, his obvious stress visible on his forehead. Had to be CC he thought as he climbed out of the car and walked up to him. "Hey man, what gives?" he asked

His gaze flickered up to his friend as he shook his head. "What ain’t up man?"

Richie sat down on the chair "What's going on Kidd is it CC?" he asked concerned.

"She's not doing too good, but they've upped her morphine. She's slept most of the weekend." Jon sighed, his gaze flicking back to the living room. Fuck you couldn’t see her from this vantage point. "It ain’t CC man."

Richie looked puzzled, that only left one thing "Frankie? what have you been both arguing about now?" he asked

Jon groaned, "I can honestly say we haven't argued about anything, not for days."

Richie looked even more confused "Ok Kidd spit it out what happened" he asked concerned for Frankie, he had just assumed since no one called him things with her and Jon would have been good all weekend.

He winced, "Got here Friday night, she was sitting in the fucking dark, newspapers everywhere. Next thing I know she’s throwing them at me. Fuck man, the press hasn’t let up like I thought it might. Next thing I know she’s trying to head for the door. Stopped her, but ...."

He looked up at his friend a what the hell can i do look in his eyes, "She told me that night that since I wanted obedient Id get it.. and for two goddamned days she’s sat in the same spot, staring at the wall. For two days, she hasn’t eat, hasn’t slept, gets up to take a piss, goes back to the wall. Just sits there. I've tried everything to get a rise out of her. NOTHING. It’s like she’s not there."

Richie just looked at him horrified to know that she had been there ALL weekend and no one had rung him, FUCK. "SHES WHAT?" Richie exploded feeling his anger rising.
"How the FUCK do you let that happen? Are you fuckin retarded or something? You've let her sit there for TWO fuckin days not eating, sleeping or anything. You asshole Jon, trust you and your god damned pride, FUCK" Richie said rocketing so fast off the chair that it skittled over as he threw open the door. "Princess?" he asked to a darkened room.

She sighed softly, damn now he was sounding like Richie. She wanted him home so bad she was turning Jon's voice into the one she adored. Yep it was official, she'd finally dipped off into the twilight zone.

She didn’t even look at him, he saw he sitting but the wall facing it like her death sentence. He knelt down as he took her in, she looked awful so pale and gaunt looking, all her sparkle long forgotten from her radiant eyes, so unkempt, so unlike the woman that he knew. "Princess?" he asked again as he pulled her hair back from her face.

Heat washed over her skin, familiar silken sandpaper finger tips brushed her cheek as she slowly turned her head, dull blue eyes focusing and seeing the one face she'd prayed for. "Can I go outside now? I was good, really I was. I just wanna breathe."

"Of course we can, come on we'll go out the back way, that way we wont have to see HIM" Richie said as he helped her up. "We'll go get you fed Princess, you need to eat" he said hugging her so tightly. "Why did you do this?" he asked

She shivered as he hugged her, the tears she'd held back for days finally erupting from dry eyes. "He wouldn’t listen, said he knew best, but he lied, it didn’t get better, I wanted.. I .. just a walk, and he said no, he knew best. so. I gave him what he wanted. I was good Richie I was. Why does everyone but me get to be free?"

"Cess baby, don’t cry" he soothed as he rubbed her back, it pained him to see her so upset and he shook his head. "Baby I am so sorry that you had to go through this, Jon needed to see you needed some space, its not good to be locked away like this but he’s only trying to do what’s right but in this case it wasn’t. You are free Ces, it just doesn’t feel like it now. Come on lets get you out of here" he said.

She slowly pushed up off the floor and leaned into him. "He'll be mad."

"I don’t fuckin care, he can be mad at me, not you" Richie said kissing her on the forehead.


Anonymous said...

Ugh I have had enoughof this spoiled brat! IS she going to hold her breath next? Richie.... pussyyyy!!!!!


Anonymous said...

I'm able to read the story and sympathize with everyone in the story except for Ces. The way Ces is handling things has me confused. Did something happen to her prior to her mom getting sick (i.e.--abusive relationship, accident, mental illness, etc)that would explain her immaturity?

If my mom was dying, I would not waste time with petty things. I would make my time count by being with her as much as I could.