The Shadow of my Past Memoir Part 1

Author’s Note: It’s important to note that next time, I will be including things I left out of the beginning (scenes between J and I and other important things before he left), and I want you guys to tell me if they should be discarded or added. Thank you guys for your support. Also, to warn again, this story will be very distasteful to some. But if you’re willing to look past the morally questionable things in this story, it’ll be okay. In my eyes, it’s really not that bad.
Sarah, Confined, Ch 5-7, pgs. 1-12
Of course, I wasn't going to want to meet his father after he told me that. Especially after he had that lost look in his eyes when he told me. Also, how he'd go to mental hospital after mental hospital. How he would find himself sleeping in a park due to his insomnia, I think he said when we were on the bench near the entrance of the mall (similar to how Darryl may have said to Diana in my story, Free). When we were in Nordstrom, he explained that the cops never believed him when he said he was abused and that his father said he was just a troubled child. I remember saying something like, "No wonder where he gets from." I was a bit angry for him, so I waited in Nordstrom while he went outside to meet his father with the lighter. When I found myself waiting for too long, I went through the door he went out of, but I didn't find him. So, I went back inside and still didn't see him. I think eventually he came in the side door, and we were back to hanging out again. I remember sometime during our time at Nordstrom (I don't know if it was before or after he met his dad to get the lighter), he asked me if I wore make up, and when I said no, he was relieved that I didn't. I remember saying something then, but I don't remember what. After that, he said that I didn't need make up, implying that I was a natural beauty.
I also remember stating that I get tired easily, His response was something like these: "Guess that makes two of us" or "Guess we're two tired people then." Something about that made me feel connected to him just like when he first directly admitted to me that he had been abused on the bench near the mall entrance and when we fist bumped at Market Street when I said that I was emotionally detached.  
For some reason, the guys I've fallen hardest for had troubled lives.
I remember also that some time when we were outside and that the sun was still out, he talked about how he would dance over his father's grave when he died. After that, I mentioned that my character Darryl would do the same thing after his abusive father died. I was writing a serial killer with an abusive past, to make matters short. I think at the time, I especially idolized cynical people who were similar to Darryl (except for the fact that they're a serial killer), and J fit that description. That's part of why I fell for him extremely hard.
Another reason is because he had the hottest body and the hottest face I've ever seen. He was beautiful in this way that they didn't make too big of a deal out of itself. He was hot in this ghostly, mysterious way. I loved the way he walked like he didn't care what people thought of him. I loved the way he laughed and talked. He had everything I wanted in a man and more. He reminded me of my ex, Brandon who I had wanted to marry in the past, and during our hangout at the mall, I even told J that. Since I would reiterate memories from Brandon and I’s romantic past, J asked me jarringly if I was even over him. And I was. At the time of hanging out with him, I didn't know I was looking for someone like Brandon again because after the mall closed and J and I went to Market Street, he made a comment to me saying something like "I would ask you out, but I would make a terrible boyfriend.”
Because of that, I asked if he had a crush on me, and he said no. So, I said in a small voice something like that, "Good. It wouldn't work out if we were together." Since I was thinking about how Brandon and I didn't work out, I thought it would be the same with J.
But as I've implied before, I didn't realize I wanted him that badly until it was too late.  
Everything about that night seemed so perfect looking back at it now and even looking back at it right after it happened. The things I've talked about already and the things that I didn't talk about. The way he mentioned something violent like throwing someone down the stairs in a way to assure me of my own bad thoughts. The way he made a big deal about this mattress salesperson who thought we were married. The way he asked as a sexual joke if I wanted to join him in bed in the same mattress place. The time he told me that it didn't matter to him if my house was messy after I told him my concern about us going to my place after our hang out at the mall.  
Everything about every interaction with him seemed perfect. Like one time at work, he said I could put my head on his shoulder if I wanted to. The other time that I loved this job since it so easy, and he's like "Right?". The time he called me a nerd when I talked about me writing fanfiction. The time he asked if I lived in my car since it was super messy the day we met. The time I laughed when he said something about the time in a cute, irritable way. The time he told me about us going on another adventure while going to DQ on our break from work. And more.
After hanging out at the mall, talking about deep things, I started lusting after him. I found myself going to the mall to somehow relive our mall hang out; I even saw a hat in Spencer's that instantly made me think of J. I didn't know I loved him, but I knew that I wanted to rip off his clothes and have sex with him.
That was when I started liking him a lot more than Weston. Weston said he was jealous of me hanging out with J and jealous of him in general. But I guess that's what he got for saying months before that he just wanted to be friends with me.
I couldn't stop thinking about J. If I saw a motorcycle while driving somewhere, I'd instantly be reminded of J (since he rides a motorcycle). If I'd listen to One Dance by Drake on the radio, I'd especially think of J and the mystery that surrounded him (The song just gave me this dark, mysterious kind of vibe for some reason). I remember showing him this movie clip of a movie I loved called Bad Santa that night at Market Street and him smiling at the video clip. The main character of Bad Santa had a similar dark past, so I found myself watching Bad Santa videos, imagining J here with me as I watched them. It was a substitute for not having him around.  
It was clear that I had a crush on J, but I honestly thought it was just one of those sexual crushes where all I really wanted to do to him was fuck him.
But it was more.
Ch 6
I remember one of the last times I saw him at work. Because we had already talked about a lot already and because I had a crush on him, I was distant that day and night. This is something I tend to do when I like someone, and I don't know if they like me back. I'm shy and reserved like that.
I remember lying down with J on one of our first breaks like I think we have before, except this time, we didn't have as much to say. I remember looking at him when we were on our second break or so, and we were sitting in these seats that came with the ghostly white Ford Expedition I used to drive. I remember looking at his nonexistent mustache. I don't remember why exactly I wanted to comment on it, but I did. I thought it was beautiful. Some many things I wish I could have said but didn't.
Because I was afraid.
I didn't want him to know that I liked him, even if it was just a sexual crush. I was like stone that night.
I stayed quiet that night, and even though we were on good terms that night then (he smiled and told me to have a good night after work), I still felt so conflicted and confused inside. I remember calling Weston and another good friend of mine, Aiden to talk about it, but I don't remember what exactly I said. I just knew that I wanted something with him. That was all I knew.
There was one night that I just couldn't take it anymore, and I said something to J that would bring us closer than ever before.
By then, I was done with spring classes by then and was looking up to the summer days.
It was in June. I remember that much.  
I don't remember exactly what I said, but I knew it had something to do with the monster inside of me (He said something like "Sometimes, it's better to keep it inside and sometimes it's better to let it out.”). I told him something about that ever since I met him, I've been realizing more about myself than I knew, I think.  
And that's what led to him suggesting having sex with him and try BDSM with him to help with my inner demons.
Looking back, I thought it was cute of him to act a little defensive when I didn't reply back immediately to his suggestion by saying something like "I don't know. Maybe it could help you."
Eventually, I agreed to his suggestion, and by that point, we were talking dirty to each other. I remember it vaguely. I remember how he said he wanted to work me up to a sweat and lick it off my breasts. I remember how I told him we were going to go to Spencer’s so I could later surprise him with our quest for BDSM toys. He said he sometimes liked surprises. I remember if it’d look suspicious for him to be blindfolded while we were at the mall; he texted yes laughingly. I remember how his ":p" emoji needed a bigger tongue, so he sent this emoji instead: ":P." I remember him saying "Mmm, fuck" as I was turning him on more and more.
It had been the best night of my entire life.
We stayed up until like 2am sexting back and forth.
Everything felt right in a way it would never feel again, a way of feeling vulnerable like that with someone. The same way I felt with Brandon when we finally opened up sexually together.
I often wished Brandon and J had swapped roles, J being the eventual boyfriend and Brandon being the one who “got away.”
But life never truly worked out the way I wanted it to.
I just didn’t know. I didn’t know.
Ch 7
True morning came, and something snapped in me.
I felt scared again of my mom’s house, thought I was realizing all these things about what happened there. It made me feel like I was a dead girl awakening from the grave.
I felt that way as I was walking around my neighborhood, looking for someone to talk to. I don’t remember specifics of what happened that day, but I remember letting out a half scream inside the empty house (my mom was gone at the time for some reason).  
I remember eventually texting J that I wasn’t in the mood for continuing our sexual conversation from last night, probably that I wanted to crawl into myself and not face the world.
I knew that as I texted him that, I was walking to Oak Ridge High School for some reason, but I do not remember why.
I knew some time after that, he had suggested that I could live with him once he had enough money; he may have even used the term “runaway with me,” but damn it- I can’t remember.
My more than dumb response was “I don’t need you to save me.”
Never after that did I ever want to live with someone. Never after that would I ever move out of my mom’s house.
I guess you could say I became that dead girl, transitioning into an afterlife of torment, never to escape.
To what else I had said about how maybe I just needed to live in a place by myself forever to be alone, he said that it’s great and all or whatever, but sometimes, it’s good to have company. Something like that, but my God, there are a lot of unfortunate gaps in my memory.
I know that shortly after I was driving aimlessly like I was back in 2015, feeling suffocated by the fact that my life was not normal, that I was not normal.
I wanted to run away from the house where I thought abuse may have gone down, a house haunted by repressed memories.
I remember my car eventually breaking down on Oak Ridge Road. J said that trying to run away like that wasn’t exactly the answer. That it was stupid. Apparently, he knew more than I did about all of this.
He knew my car had stopped working. We were going to talk on the phone. He had to wait for the people in his family to leave the place he was at. He had been helping his sister with moving to this university in Colorado, I believe.
When we finally did talk on the phone, that was when I sort of knew- this man’s typical guy laugh and typical voice that I thought he had was not so typical at all. And I would know years after the fact that I would never hear a voice like that again. The sexiest voice ever to exist, something you don’t even really hear in movies.
I remember somewhere in that conversation, I said something along the lines of “I should get on top of you in a straight jacket. That way, I could feel dick all the time.” He didn’t know I said that exactly, I don’t think, but instinctively, perhaps he knew because he said something about me being “kinda crazy,” opposite of what he said I was at Market Street. He also said that he heard something about me being on top of him, which he said would be fun as Hell.
I also asked something that I had fantasized weeks and weeks before, that I finally got to say to him, which was, “Will you spank me if I misbehave?” He said something like, “If that was what needed to be done.”
Another thing that felt most right in the conversation was simply me asking him what he was doing. He was watching this old show, the one with an iconic theme song and black characters. Made me feel so at peace for some reason, like I was with a person who was chill and laid back. A man half Mexican, half white- a perfect combination. Not too culturally different from me yet not too corny and white. Just right. That sweet, homie vibe. I dug that.
I was going to even joke on the phone something about how he may have been the better version of my ex-boyfriend, Brandon, but I had to get off the phone to deal with the tow truck.
Now, I wonder what he would have said to that. A mystery that drove me insane.
This was the part that got weird. I remember being so open with the tow truck man about how I thought my mom was emotionally abusive and psychopathic. I had told J earlier that I overhead her telling her boyfriend that she wanted to tie him up and throw him in the trunk. My mom wasn’t the type to joke around that often. To that, J replied, “That’s fucked up.” I spilled secrets, the kind of secrets J thought it was best to stay silent about in his life but ones that I had to divulge in.
The tow truck man dropped me off at the Oak Ridge police station, where I was made to explain my situation to the clerk lady, the type of lady that seemed like she could be a fucking bitch.
In that moment, I could barely speak. Tired of pretending to care about appearances. Lost eyes like J’s.
All she said was “Well, I can’t help you.”
Eventually, as I got the hang of speaking and being present again, I finally explained the situation. The next thing I knew, I was in the car of the policeman who apparently knew me from childhood, a man I didn’t remember. I mentioned J. He said he thought he might have known him.
I remember where they took me at that time, the abuse shelter up in Conroe. Days passed by there the way that time on a broken clock would.
I don't remember every single moment or what happened in what order, but I'll tell you what I know.
A quiet moment between J and I had passed texting-wise before I immerged with something like, What's up, bitch?
I don’t even remember his response; it was probably something totally generic- to that, I responded what was up with me was my “nonexistent dick.”
It got us going. It felt so right to finally call him "bitch."
You getting hard yet, bitch? I eventually texted.
He definitely said yes to that. But that wasn't enough for me.
My panties were probably soaking wet.
Now, looking back, I wished I at least could have had a damn pic of that dick, but I'll never know. I'll never know the secrets that lie beneath those clothes, the secrets that lie in the bedroom with him. Unlocking those secrets would have been like unlocking all of this hidden knowledge of life itself.
I'll never know the things I know so easily with guys who always pop the balloon of hope inside my heart. Hope that I will feel that "thing" with them.
That "thing" of bad girl meets bad boy. That "thing" of feeling uncensored with a person to the point of excitement and thrills. That "thing" of wanting someone so bad that you'd rip off all of their clothes without a second thought.
And in that moment, I felt that. Even one touch from this man would be like dying and going to Heaven.
Let me reiterate this point- the man was the most beautiful man to ever exist. That black, curly hair that framed his pretty boy face perfectly, in a way that spelled trouble like his tongue. Those glasses that made his sad, soft eyes stand out, made you know he was a deep thinker and listener. Those lips mixed with seriousness and corruption- serious when normal, sexy and mischievous when smiling.
And let’s not forget the very important factor- he was a skinny boy.
You been watching 50 Shades of Grey or something? A paraphrase of what he texted after I unleashed some of my dark mind to him, the darkness I don’t fully understand to this day.
No, that shit is ballsy.
J agreed that the hype for the movie wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Some real life BDSM between me and him would have so much better than what’s portrayed in a movie based on a bad Twilight fanfic. Was I going to be that innocent, little shy girl like Anastasia who everyone thought they knew to J? I think not.
Then, somewhere down the line, I texted something about how everyone was going to worship our dick and pussy because we’re that fucking sexy. God, I can’t remember fully. I wish I did.
Amen.