Fragment #6 - Am I a Slut? -- Part Two (Sensations)

The pages turn one after the other. The story’s getting darker and darker. I can’t really stand it, but I have to finish the book. The paper in my hands is rough, I find it dangerous. The book burns the tip of my finger. I have to finish it today. It can’t last. I have to make it flow away in today’s tide. Wash it up with today’s memories.

Look… Okay, fine.
Good. Felix?
Yeah?
Get dressed.
No, don’t. He’s great like this.
Dad?
Do what he says, Felix.
Give me your hand.
Okay. Dad?
Later, Felix.
Okay. Bye.

My hand holding your hand. So hard I can hear you teeth clenching. My heart beats following yours, my footpath next to yours. God, I hope granny doesn’t know about what I do in the Heath. Your torso sweating in the horrible light of the day. The heat hitting every single part of my body, cell after cell. My eyes closing under the destroying Words, coming from up there. Though Shalt follow my Words. Father, please, forgive them.
God, why hath thou forsaken me?
My hand is alone now. No Jonathan holding it. Not anyone to tell me what to do. I’m alone with my fate. Alone with the stinging blade in my chest. No footpath next to mine, not anymore.
Sting.
Ouch!
Sting, sting, sting.
My past hurts.
My fate is hurting me now.
I tend to grab a hand but no-one’s here. Maybe a decomposing body in witch I could insert my flesh column. But nothing else now that dead meat.
You’re a Slut. These words spring to my mind again. I am not a Slut. And I can’t be one.
Because I am alone. Even with you. Even with all those people I shagged. Even with my dick up some arse, I am and will always be on my own.
But I remember these words whispered in my ears by an anonymous guy. You slut!
I a not any slut, I am the One, the ultimate Slut. The guy without a self. I am the Public Man.

Of course I knew Brad, and you didn’t. Brad was just your idea and I guess you think he’s a great idea. He maybe a great idea, but Brad himself is just a kid who got drafted into the job of representing an idea. Now Brad is just a name. You don’t even know who it belongs to anymore.

I could be this Brad. I could be anyone. My eyes, my lips, my chest could be anyone’s. Anyone could have my arse.
And by being anyone, I am no-one…