DO I RETURN?

So I lay on my floor, thinking of what the next day will bring for my wounded intruder. He seemed like he wanted to tell me what happened, and I was willing to listen. So here I am, on my floor, thinking of the story he's about to tell, when I hear a moan coming from my bedroom. It's Dan, needing help to get up.

As I enter the room, he's crouching in the corner of the floor, moaning in pain. I get him back into bed, and tell him he's going to the hospital or he can die. I don't give him an ultimatum, and he finally does as I say.

I help him get dressed with clothes that I had from a previous boyfriend. They weren't the perfect fit, but it was better then nothing. I called a cab, and it arrives sooner than I think. I slowly help him up, clutching onto his waist and chest. As Dan is in horrible pain, I yet can't help but notice his muscular body. His pain is getting worse, only for his wounds to open up again and start bleeding. We get in the cab, and as we're on our way, the cab driver doesn't stop asking questions. I told him if he didn't shut up, he wouldn't get a nice fat tip. Suddenly not another word came out of his mouth.

I got help from the emergency room to help Dan out of the cab, and they immediately put him on a gurney. My mind now is racing with thoughts of what he's going to tell the doctors, and I don't even try to give him advice. I'm allowed to follow the interns and nurses, and they take him into an examining room to attend to his wounds. As they strip off his clothes, he's lying there naked, as they attempt to stop the blood coming out of his chest and belly. I could just stand there and watch, feeling his pain as they begin sewing him up.

They begin to ask him the obvious questions, and he goes into a rant that doesn't make sense. Then they start asking me the same questions, only to let them know the truth. That he appeared at my front door, and all I did was to come to his aide. No more, no less. They tell me he has to stay over night, and as they leave, I see his stitched up body, as he looked so alone and helpless. Maybe it was me that felt so alone, so helpless.


I stayed with him in his room for a while longer, as I needed to get back to my apartment. So now what? Do I leave him there? He had to have relatives, friends, someone that would help him. I told him I would see him later, and to call me if he wanted to talk before I returned. But would I come back?

THE BLOODY MORNING AFTER

Hey, didn't I tell you this was going to be fun? See, you came inside apt. 9, and already you've been involved in knowing some top notch secrets, went on a wild ride of my dream about a phantom lover, and now my bloody intruder.

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.

MY BLOODY VISITOR

Last night was a long night for me. I couldn't get it out of my head, hearing and then seeing my phantom again from the night before. I didn't know if I was going crazy.

This particular evening wasn't about my 'phantom' lover. It was about midnight when I heard my door open. As I went to see who was coming in, there I see standing in front of me, a man bleeding all over himself. Blood was everywhere. He had this look on his face of bewilderment, and needing help in the worse way, beyond what I could offer him. My first thoughts were why was he standing in my apartment? What led him into apt. 9? This guy needed an ambulance. I was in shock seeing him standing there like that, and not knowing who he was or why he was there. I told him to immediately leave. I didn't want any part of this. He practically begged me for help, at least to wash some of the blood away, but it was more then just attending to his wounds that he needed help with, as I would learn latter.

I lead him into my bathroom, pushing him towards the sink, while cool water flowed out of the faucet. He was holding his right wrist with his left hand, holding it under the water, shaking uncontrollably. The sink was a maze of bright red swirls, with even more blood pouring out of his wrist. That wasn't the only wound this guy had. As I looked at him, the front of his shirt was covered with fresh blood. My hands were suddenly covered in this red mess, and then all of a sudden, I threw a towel over his arms, and demanded that he leave.

As he attempted to leave the bathroom, he hesitated, then fell to the floor. Did he die, did he faint? Shit, what the hell am I going to do now? I didn't want to call the police, after all, they might think I know him and link me to this man whom I don't even know.




I kneeled down close enough to see that he was still breathing. All I could do at first was to get him out of the bathroom, so I dragged him as best as I could into the hallway. At least he would be out of sight from the front door. If anyone would attempt to come in, they wouldn't see him.

I wrapped his bleeding wrist with more towels, hoping the blood would stop gushing out. That's all I needed, the police to find a dead man in my apartment. Within minutes, he came to, but still very groggy and not too coherent. He continuously kept on saying he was ok, but it was obvious he wasn't. I told him I was calling an ambulance and he insisted I shouldn't call anyone. Then I told him he could die, and that I didn't want him to die in my apartment. He told me not to worry, but worrying was first on my list that I was doing at that very moment.

I have enough drama happening in apt 9, and I certainly didn't need this. His dark hurting eyes begged me again, begging that he could stay in my hallway for few more minutes. I said yes. I brought him water to drink, and after a sip or two, he poured the rest on his head. I slumped onto the floor next to him, just looking at this poor creature, wondering what had led to this.

As I sat there, I could see his face was handsome, under all that sweat and blood. The blood from his body got onto to his face, and he was quite the mess. I went to get more water, and gently stroked his face with it, clearing away some of the blood from his forehead and cheeks. He breathed a sigh of relief.

I asked him if he was still bleeding, and he said he didn't think so. He began to gently undo the towels that were wrapped around his wrist, with relief that the bleeding had finally stopped. Thank God. I too was relieved with the hope that now this stranger would leave.

As I asked him his name, he started to go into a slow sleep, trying to keep his eyes open. Just as I asked him again, he was out. Asleep in my hallway. Great. Now what? Do I wake him? Do I let him stay there? The lights were dim, and all I could do for that very moment was to think of my next move. But what would it be? Here I am, sitting down in my hallway with a stranger full of blood. And now he's sleeping.

Ah, someone help me!

Help was never on it's way for me, as I was always my own help, and this was no exception. Within minutes, this handsome bloody stranger would move his head back and forth, coming to, only to fall back into unconsciousness. This time, I woke him, telling him he couldn't stay here, and that he needed to leave. He didn't hear me. I left the dim red light on. I felt helpless. I walked into the living room, pacing back and forth, only to get into bed and hope by the time I wake up, the stranger on my floor would be gone.

I pondered this event of horror as I lay in bed. I lay there still and in deep thought. I didn't move. I felt as if I was in a morgue and not on my soft comfortable bed. I wondered why he had tried to commit suicide. After all, his wrist was cut, and cut very deeply. Please let him leave. He has to leave. What if someone sees him. Ok, I'll make him leave, and as these thoughts entered my mind, I too finally fell asleep.

DARKNESS

After my very disturbing dream, it left me dazed. Even the day after, I was just walking around my apartment, wondering why it even happened. It seemed too real for it to be just a dream. But I guess it was. Just a dream.


I love looking out from my window, and on this particular night, there was a full moon. I was alone, and it was just me and the heavens above. I had wanted my dream to reocurr, like wanting your man to come back home to you, but it was more like a phantom, and I needed to deal with this. So I gazed out, and in my aloneness, I came to gripps of what I was, and all the secrets I had hidden within me. And my dream.


The darkness surrounded me, and it was total solidarity. I loved it. Anyone could be walking in now for all I knew, but I would continue in the darkness, and not let anyone disrupt it. The light from my bedroom window cast a blue haze on my unmade bed.

....Just as these thoughts passed through my mind, a man came in, unannounced, saying my name. I turned around, and I could hardly see him. After all, it was dark, and the twilight of the night was captivating. I too said hello, then turned around again, hoping he would leave. I was just about to ask him so, when that haunting voice reminded me of someone. He said softly, it's me, I'm your new neighbor above you. I just moved in. At first I didn't care what he said, so I took his announcement without great notice. Then I suddenly froze.

There wasn't an apartment above me. There weren't any apartments above me.

I looked around hoping to see him, and I knew who he was, that I would run into his arms, wanting him in my bed, wanting him to want me, when all I could see was nothing standing there.

I ran down my apartment building, hoping to see where he went to. Maybe I could see him downstairs, if only I could get there in time. No one was there, as if he had vanished into thin air.

DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS, DIRTY LITTLE LIES

Mike finally left. I wonder if he enjoyed hearing about my dream. He's my neighbor from downstairs. Now it's your turn to talk with me. I'd love having you over.

Do you have dirty little secrets? Do you ever tell lies? If so, why don't you tell me what they are. I have a lot of secrets, and their all dirty. Some are scary, and some just horrible. I've told a lot of lies, after all, I'm a liar. Sometimes I have to be.

Where do you live? I live in New Orleans, in an old 1930's brick apartment building in the French Quarters. It has a beautiful court yard where I sometimes go out and sit. I like living in my apartment building. No one bothers you there. I'm in apartment 9 nine, but I'm sure you know that by now.

What do you do?

Would you like to know what I do? I do a lot of things. A lot goes on in apartment 9 nine, but do you know what it is?

There's times you can walk into my apartment and catch me sitting in the dark. Sometimes I just sit there, thinking of the things I do. And then I think of doing what I do even better. What lie will I tell my next visitor, what secret will he tell me? Will I hold it against him? Will it be safe with me? I'm good at keeping secrets. Secrets are a part of my life. I live in one big secret. But that's ok, I'm used to it.

One time a visitor told me he killed his wife. I thought he was kidding to get some extra attention, but he went into such graphic detail's, that I couldn't help but believe him. Was I nervous? A little. Did I turn him in? Hell no! I told you, I'm good at keeping secrets.

Another visitor told me that he didn't have a penis. Of course I had to see this for myself, and guess what? You give up? Well it was true, he didn't! Nasty sight!

Someone once told me they had robbed a bank and got away with it. But it got botched up, ending with the death of a security guard. He told me he shot him dead.

A man told me that his ill wife needed her medication while going into some kind of epileptic censurer, and purposely didn't give her the pills that could have saved her. As he watched her struggling to reach for her pills, he stood there, not doing a thing to help. He said she looked at him in amazement, knowing he wasn't coming to her aide. He watched her die right in front of him. He inherited everything she had.

This is my apartment before I moved in. The doors were painted a soft pink color. I like pink, so for the most part, I kept it the same way. This is one of the rooms where I hear a lot of secrets my visitors tell me.

So, when are you going to tell me one of your secret's? I'd love to hear them.

WAS MY DREAM REAL OR WAS I DREAMING?

Well, that was some ride, now wasn't it? Hey, did you keep up with me there? Would you like another drink? Your name is Mike? You know that was an unbelievable dream, wasn't it? When I woke up, I didn't know if I was coming or going. I mean, some dreams make you stay in a crazy kind of mood.


When I woke up from it, I just walked over to my window and gazed out.

I was in a somber mood, and I felt tired from it. What do you think Mike, do you think I'm crazy? But it was just so real, it FELT so real, like having the most amazing sex I had ever had. If I were to possibly describe what I felt, there aren't any words to really describe it. Describing it wouldn't do it justice.

NO NEED TO KNOCK

I was in a deep sleep, when a visitor had let himself into my apartment. I was awaken when he slowly slid into my bed. I felt a warm yet strange presence, and he immediately entangled his legs onto mine. His warm body that now lay next to me was strong and inviting. At first I just wanted to sleep. As I was wondering who my unexpected visitor was, his presence felt familiar, but I couldn't quite see him clear enough. I was still in a daze, too sleepy to care. I rolled onto my side to go back to sleep, but he wouldn't have it.

His voice was haunting. His touch was unbelievable. His breathe was sweet, and I was enchanted like never before. He kept feeling my skin, softly stroking me with an open palm up and down my body. He was over me, gazing into my eyes, speaking in a soft voice, yet loud enough that I should have heard him, with moments too faint to hear. His hand was now exploring me. As one arm pushed his way on top of me, I could see his face, his odd yet enchanting face.

His body was incredibly strong, his muscular body was all over me, and all I could do was to listen to his every whim. I thought I was going in and out of a sleep of some sort, still in a daze, not truly knowing if I was sleeping or dreaming. His lips devoured me, tantalizing every entrance on my body, clutching on to me, then yanking me closer to him, entering me with a calmness of ease, then thrusting me with almost a violent fervor that was exhausting, exhilarating, and frightening. My entire body was quivering. I couldn't breath. I was gasping for air, as I was holding on to him for dear life. He then pulled me even closer to him, allowing deeper penetration. It never stopped.

Suddenly I was caught up in total darkness. Every muscle in my body was aching, screaming out with ecstasy I can't begin to describe. Our bodies saturated in sweat and entwined in sensual clutches, not wanting to let go.

Then, just like that, it stopped. I was breathing so heavily, I needed to gain my composure, and just lie there for a moment to focus. I felt I was floating, as if I had been lifted to another place. The euphoria kept me in a daze, and I wanted to reach out to him, to see his naked body, to see his face, to see who my intruder was. As I reached for him,..

No one was there.

I leaned up on my bed, looking around my room, not knowing what was going on. The strange feeling that suddenly engulfed me was overwhelming. I got up, thinking my strange and mysterious lover was somewhere in my apartment, still close, but where? I was now in a state of solitude, and bewilderment.

What had just happened to me? All I could do was to lean on my bed again, confused with despair of not knowing what had happened. Still wet from his body, I covered my face in my pillow. Who was he, I kept asking myself, and how did he know where I lived? Who told him about me? Damn it, who was this man? Where did he come from?

My nude body was now cold, and yearning for his touch to make me warm. I needed him. I felt lost. His abrupt absence made me long for him all the more, to touch him, to engulf myself in him. While I lye on my bed, my eyes felt heavy, and this strange trance like slumber came over me. Within minutes, I feel asleep.