The Sequence of Kai
It’s rough. It’s amateur. Every thrust is unpleasant, but it fulfils a need.
I did end up finding someone tonight. An unremarkable man, he wore glasses.
“Haaah. Haaah. Huuh.”
His breathing is short and ragged. He’s not a talker. That’s not an issue, I prefer it this way. Sex is all about being something for someone else, all the better if I can play that role in silence.
He flips me over so that we’re face to face. He gropes my breasts with his right hand and his left nearly slips from under him, but he steadies himself on my torso. He never stops entering me the whole time. It’s incessant, mechanical, hard to feel anything about.
Isn’t this how it always is? Why can’t I let myself go in this moment?
“Hey, are you alright?”
“You look like you’re about to fall unconscious.”
“I told you, I’m fine.”
He regains the vigour he lost a moment ago, my disinterest must have shown on my face. I don’t want to be disinterested. Moments like these are the only ones I can be something, it has to be for someone else. If I lose that feeling, I’ll never be anything ever again.
I’m thinking about the man from earlier. He could do it.
“You don’t look like you’re enjoying this…..”
A look of concern spreads over his face and he starts to slow down.
“Don’t even think about stopping.”
I wrap my legs around his back, so he has nowhere to go. Even then, with no way of pulling back, he remains still. I don’t like still, still reminds me too acutely of what’s going on here.
“Can’t get off unless the girl does too? Is that the issue here?”
“Maybe I could get more into it if you had any intention of paying me.”
“You were serious about that?”
“Of course I was.”
His body is impatient. Not being able to pull out he tries to push forward but is stopped by my hands forcing him back.
“Are you going to give me what I want?”
“I don’t think I can do that…”
He’s too nice a guy, not the type that should be soliciting prostitutes, he’s probably just not good enough with girls to find a partner.
“At least pretend to do it, then I can pretend to be into it.”
He timidly moves one hand to my neck, then the other. He tightens them around my throat as he starts moving again. I give it a few seconds, but I can still breathe pretty easily. This is no good.
“Get off me.”
I push him off me with enough force that he falls backwards off the bed and lands on his ass. He looks so pathetic sitting there on the ground with nothing on but odd socks. I feel bad for him, this is partially my fault.
“Get up. Sit on the bed beside me.”
He does as he’s told and sheepishly sits up on the edge of the bed to my right. I finish him off with my hand and wipe it clean on the sheets.
“Don’t thank me for that.”
“Because you should be apologizing.”
“What do you want me to apologize for?”
“Didn’t your mother teach you not to lie?”
He stands up and starts pulling his clothes back on.
I reach up and pull him down by the shoulder.
“I won’t apologize for not killing you, that’s stupid.”
“That’s what’s stupid? Not agreeing to it in the first place?”
“I didn’t think you were serious.”
I get redressed, boots first, underwear and skirt on after them. I try putting my bra back on but it’s hard with no mirror.
“Can you give me a hand with this?”
I gesture to the unhooked bra strap on my back because this guy is slow on the uptake.
His clumsy fingers brush against my shoulder blades. They’re still cold from outside, the heating in his car was broken and he said he’d forgotten to bring gloves.
“Why do you want me to do it?”
“Because I can’t do it myself.”
“But it’s not something I can do either.”
“You can’t hook a bra?”
“No! I mean yes! I can do that. I meant I can’t do…. The other thing….”
He eventually manages to hook my bra.
“So why? Why do you want to die so badly?”
“I don’t owe you an answer, you’re just some guy. Why do you even want to know?”
“Well if you’re going out asking people to do that to you….. I doubt you have anyone telling you that you shouldn’t”
“I should, that’s why no one says otherwise.”
“No, you shouldn’t, no one should.”
I pull my top on and then my jacket over it.
“I hate people like you, you don’t understand that some people deserve to die, need to die.”
“No one deser-”
“Yes, they do, and I’m one of them.”
I don’t want to hear another word, so I march out the door into the cold corridor of the apartment block he lives in.
I hear him close the door behind me, at least he has the sense to leave it at that.
I pull my hood over my head and slip back into the cold winter night.
By the time I’m back home it’s not even bright out, what a disappointing evening.
I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up, my mind keeps losing its grip on my memories. I need to die. I need to die quickly. But I haven’t found anyone who can kill me.
It strikes me that I still owe that girl from earlier at least £20. Maybe that’s an odd thing to think of right now, I’ve never been good at blocking out intrusive thoughts.
I don’t have time to be worrying about things owed, I need to find someone else, something else, to stop my mind slipping any further.
I pick up my phone. No messages, one notification telling me it might rain later. What about that other man from last night? He was dangerous, I felt something from him. Maybe he could do the job.
I unlock my phone for the first time in months.
“Where do you want to meet?”