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You carried me out of your car and up the stairs, blood still stained your letterman jacket. You fumbled to open your apartment door while you still gripped me in your arms. I wanted to fight you, not ready to face what I thought you had in store for me, but I was simply too weak to do it. So I let you carry me inside. You laid me on the couch and I jerked your arms away from me, trying to stop what I thought you might do, but you didn’t. You looked at me with worried eyes and then walked around the corner of the hallway. My heart was beating fast as I sat back up, I didn’t trust whatever it was you were doing. You reappeared a few moments later with a blanket in your hands and a cup of warm tea. I glared at you as you approached me but that didn’t stop you from setting the cup on the table next to me and handing me the blanket. I hesitated and then quickly grabbed the soft blanket from your hand. You walked away soon afterwards, I figured you knew you weren’t getting anywhere with me, and you wandered into the bathroom to bandage all your wounds. I laid back down and tried to fall asleep, despite my mind and heart racing. I thought that if nothing happened tonight that something must be coming tomorrow. I never drank the tea.
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The next morning I woke up with little sleep to the smell of eggs and bacon, I still was really cautious though, I thought everything you did was a ruse. I got up and walked towards the kitchen and peaked around the corner to see you stirring around your spatula in a frying pan. You looked over at me and I began to duck behind the wall, but I kept my eye on you as you nodded at me and gave me a small smile. You never talked much then, heheh but I guess you don’t talk much now either. You put the eggs and bacon on a plate and brought it over to me, by now I had made my way back over to the couch and snuggled myself in the blanket for some sense of protection. You gently set the meal down on the table in front of me and it’s only now I noticed you tried not to get too close to me. I know you were doing your best. You shuffled around me to reach your phone and checked if you had any messages, you looked relieved when the phone said you had none. You walked away and I eyed the plate, my stomach was growling. I didn’t trust what you had made for me but I hadn’t eaten in far too long so I knew I had to eat something. I cautiously nibbled on a slice of bacon and ate a small piece off the egg, but it was about all I could stomach, I was still very nervous. I heard the door open and shut just as quickly and went to check it out. You had just left the apartment, I didn’t know what you were doing. I wandered around the rooms and snooped a bit while you were gone. I found an old picture lying on your night stand, it looked like it might have had tear stains on it. It was of you and some man I didn’t know. He had red hair and glasses and the writing on the bottom read “Hawaii, 1985.” I started gaining some trust in you then, nowhere near enough, but you seemed human in that picture.
Some time had passed and I woke up to the sound of a door creaking open, I must’ve fallen asleep on the couch again. You walked through the door carrying some grocery bags. You told me later on that, at the time, you thought you had to be cooking for two now, but you don’t really know how to cook much do you? That’s alright though, I don’t mind pizza.
The evening rolled around and I didn’t come out from the living room much until the doorbell rang. It was the pizza man, you didn’t feel like cooking that night, despite the groceries you bought that day. You handed me a couple slices, even though you knew I wouldn’t eat them, but I did eat half of one when you left the room. I got better sleep that night, even if I was still afraid of you.
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A few days went by with the same routine. You’d bring me food I wouldn’t eat, you’d go somewhere or into your room for a while, I might take a nap on the couch, and you’d flash me a concerned glance here and there. Sorry I gave you such a hard time, you were so patient with me. I thought for a while you only wanted to make me comfortable to have your way with me. I know now that isn’t true, and I should’ve thought differently sooner, but I guess you’d know something about having trauma too.
One day though, I decided maybe it had been too long for you to be evil, and slowly I began to trust you. I think it took me a week, maybe more, to finally warm up to you a little. I started eating in front of you, I started eating more too. You smiled when I did. I liked when you smiled at me and I eventually realized it was genuine. You didn’t just want sex, and you weren’t going to kill me.
When you were out one day I looked at that picture of you and your friend again. I never told you I looked at that picture before you showed me, but I don’t think I would’ve warmed up as quickly without it.
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The night after that first week, or however long it was, you found me crying on the couch. I don’t remember what I was crying about, but I remember you peeking around the corner and startling me. “Are you okay?” you asked. Your voice was raspy from not using it, that made the question more genuine. I didn’t respond but I let you walk over and sit on the couch next to me. You put your arm around me and I didn’t flinch like normal. You rubbed my shoulder and didn’t say anything. I hugged you until I fell asleep. I finally trusted you.
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Nowadays I kiss you when you come home, and bandage all your wounds, so you don’t have to do it alone. I eat all of your food, and I drink all of your tea, and we cuddle in our bed all night because I trust you and you trust me.
So here’s to you, Jacket, thank you for saving me.