Early in the morning, I woke up to Dan Martin, the man covered in blood. He was looking at me, as I lay there nude, gently moving my arm to wake me. He startled me at first, even with his soft nudge. It's not as if he was starring at my body, but looking at me to notify me that he was 'up'. I immediately threw the sheets over me, as he asked me if he could have something to eat. What did he think this was, a restaurant? I told him he could but he would have to leave right after.
He was in the kitchen, making way too much noise, which led me in there to hasten things up. After draping a sheet around myself, I entered into the kitchen and made some coffee. I asked him how he was doing. He helped himself onto a chair, but soon fell right off, answering my question.
I cradled his head, asking if he was alright, and got a faint yes. I helped him back up, yet knowing he wouldn't be able to sit upright on a chair, and wondered how he got up in the first place to wake me up. I helped him into bed, making his torture a little more bearable. His blood stained shirt was gross, so I undressed him, shirt and his pants as well. Dan had a wonderful body. I covered him up, and brought him something to eat.
I had to find out what had happened to him as he tried to tell me. He was moaning with pain. I asked him if he wanted to go the emergency room, and he said no. His cuts were deep and he needed stitches. I was afraid they would open and bleed again. His chest was cut as well.
In my own dark little world of apt.9, where stories are told, and secrets are kept. Where fantasies are acted out within these walls of secrecy, where everything is good for a short time, and then it ends in the reality we know as life. It's a path I've chosen, with no one to blame but myself. I take risks everyday. Will someone kill me? Apart from all the craziness of my life in apt. 9, maybe I will be the one doing a good deed today and 'save' this man from his pain and agony.
As my inner sense wanted to help him, it was best he be on his way, figuring out his own problem, and a major problem it was. As he was trying to find the words to speak, he told me he came into my apartment only because my door had been slightly opened, and took a chance coming in. Gee, lucky me. As much as I wanted him to leave, he was physically not able to, so I either throw him out, or let him stay.
If I let him stay, it would only be for a short time.
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