Short Story / Gracie

Dear Gracie,

You’re fucked up. Everything about you, to be exact. It’s the way you look, even the words you speak. Something is wrong with you. Even as you’re reading this paragraph; I bet you’re wondering exactly how I know all these things about you. Well, it’s because I know you…or at least I used to know you. I spent nine years loving you, and you spent nine years loving someone else. The fucking Corona bottle. I don’t like using the word “bitch,” especially in reference to you, but you come closer to it than any other woman I’ve ever met.

Over the years, may people who listened to me complain about you told me to move on. They said to forget you. They told me that there were other fish in the sea and that I had better bait my line before I miss out on someone great. Well fuck that shit. In my opinion, I’m already missing out. So are you. I’m just waiting for your stupid ass to wake up and realize I’m a nice guy.

-Harold

Dear Gracie,

I love you deeply. You are everything a man could ever want in a woman. If I had my life to live over again, I would still choose to love you. To you, I’m just a shadow. I am nothing. I know that my friendship with you has outlived its time and it’s over…but my heart can’t accept that! Maybe I am a fool for loving you, but I can’t help it. my only wish is that you would one day reciprocate my love again and we could be together.

-Love, Harold.

Dear Bitch…

I can’t believe you never wrote me back. You’re selfish and I hate you! You’re going to get EXACTLY what you deserve.

-Fuck you, Harold

CHAPTER ONE:

She wakes up at six every morning for work except Saturday. On Friday night, she goes out partying with friends and comes home completely wasted. Sunday…she never comes out of the house.

Are you really going to do this Harold? Are you really going to kidnap Gracie? You’re really going to do it, aren’t you? You’re a sick bastard. She doesn’t love you, Harold. Who could love someone like you? You’re ugly; inside and out. A girl would have to be crazy to fall for you. She’d have to be deaf, doped, or even vegetate to love you. You were supposed to grow up and be a doctor or a lawyer or a firefighter, but instead you turned out to be a complete loon. A disappointment. It’s a good thing that your parents are dead…they don’t know what a shit you’ve become.

He hopped the fence into Gracie’s backyard and quietly crept up to the backdoor. He had purposely dismembered the lock days ago when Gracie was at work. She never even noticed. He had been in her house many times since then. He had gone through her dirty laundry to sniff the remnants of her soiled panties. She probably didn’t suspect anything when phone numbers she’d received from men had suddenly vanished. Had she noticed the musky smell of a man who had just masturbated in her restroom? Perhaps she dismissed the smell or thought it was all in her head. Gracie didn’t have a guard dog or any kind of alarm system; two things that are essential for every woman who lives alone…

Harold jiggled the doorknob just right. It gently released and allowed him the access he waited for. He didn’t waste any time making his way to Gracie’s bedroom. She was drunk again; nestled between the sheet and the blanket. he stood in the doorway and admired her. He felt that after tonight, Gracie would be his forever. He wondered if she had noticed the traces of semen he had smeared on her pillowcases. She was wearing a silky tank top; pink, and complete with hardened nipples. Her panties were black, and he was sure he had sniffed them before. He kneeled down beside her and placed his hand on her thigh. He fantasized about touching her in intimate places and kissing her. Mostly, he fantasized about her wanting it. He got up and took a cloth from the restroom and soaked it with the chloroform he had in his pocket. She didn’t react to the pressure of him placing the cloth over her nose and mouth. He began thinking that maybe he didn’t need the chloroform and the liquor she comsumed was enough.

Next came the clothing. he searched her closet for a decent pair of jeans, a shirt, and a pair of shoes. He dressed her as if she were a life-size Barbie. Once he was done, he wrapped her in the blanet from her bed and carried her out the front door to his van. He had more blankets spread out inside to ensure the comfort of his captive. She seemed to snuggle into them as if she were still in her own bed.
He went back inside the house and gathered as much of her clothes as he could. He wanted her to stay with him forever. Once he was in the driver’s seat of the van and ready to go, he looked back at Gracie. She was sleeping sound…as if nothing was happening.

CHAPTER 2

Why do you want a girl who doesn’t want to be with you, Harold? Are you getting off on this? You are, aren’t you!? You could have any other girl that you wanted, like Rita, that sexy woman from the coffee shop. She slipped you her number on a napkin and you gave it back to her! Remember doing that? Asshole. Can you imagine how insulted she was when you walked out coldly, you bitch! I bet her little eyes watered. You’re too interested in the un-obtainable! Does it bring you pleasure to know that Gracie is unconsciously rolling around in the back of your smelly van? Come to think of it, Rita is lucky that you gave her number back to her. If she knew how crazy you were, she wouldn’t have offered it.

After two hours of driving, he finally reached his destination. You would think he would take her to a secluded cabin in the woods, or some underground hideout. He took her to an apartment complex; a shabby one. It’s one of those places you see all the time and feel good knowing you never have to live there. It’s the kind of place that roaches look down on.
When he opened the back door of the van, he found that he had to re-wrap his human burrito. He carried her to the elevator like a bundle of laundry. They stopped at the top of the building; fifth floor. He carried her beyond apartment number 665 and stopped at 667. Potential tenants cringed at the idea of living in 666. It was only used for storage.

The door to his apartment wasn’t locked or even closed all the way. He pushed it open with his foot and carried Gracie to the only bedroom in the apartment. He placed her gently on the bed where she was surrounded by the bondage that awaited her. Her breathing was heavy and Harold watched her chest rise and fall as he stood at the edge of the bed. His eyes were fixed on her body, and each movement excited him. She was really his.
He left the apartment and came back with the rest of her clothes. He hung everything in the closet neatly; the way he had found it at her house. He went to her and began stripping her clothes off. He left her in the tank top and panties that he had first found her in. After that, he shackled her arms and legs to the bed rails. He stood at the foot of the bed, admiring her half naked body. He let his eyes wander from her head to her feet; taking in every curve. He leaned over to caress her thighs, just below the line of her panties. He layed himself between her spread legs and pressed his nose into the crotch of her panties. It was warm and he could smell that familiar scent. He began breathing harder from the excitment and inched his tongue toward the cotton fabric where he fondled her clitoris. She began squirming and mumbling something. Suddenly she moaned a man’s name. Mark.

You could have her right now, couldn’t you? You could take her little panties off and stuff her, couldn’t you? She probably wouln’t even wake up. But you aren’t going to, are you? You want her to be fully conscious because you want her to react. You want her to see and feel everything, don’t you? Harold…just take her now. Do what you’re going to do and then drive her back home. Reverse everything before you get yourself into trouble. She’s just a worthless drunk anyway. Just take her back home. When she wakes up in the morning, she won’t even realize anything happened. You aren’t going to follow my advice and take her home…are you?

CHAPTER 3

“Where am I?”
The first words that came from the captive’s mouth. She wore her face in an expression that admitted she was hung over. The sun was rising and began spilling warm light into the bedroom. Gracie widened her eyes and took in her surroundings. Finally realizing she was shackled to the bed, she let out a scream that echoed inside the tiny room. She kept screaming after reading the red spray-painted words on the wall across from her. They read: I LOVE YOU GRACIE…

“Where are you? Sick fucking bastard!” Gracie screamed. Her eyes were transfixed on the doorway as she waited for her captor to show himself.

“It’s you, isn’t it Daniel?” She howled. She rocked herself back and forth trying to loosen the grip of her restraints without sucess.

“I told you that night at the club that I didn’t want to go out with you. This isn’t going to make me like you,” she screamed while fighting with the bondage. She still had her gaze fixed upon the doorway as if she could magically make the kidnapper appear.

“Stan! Get the fuck out here, Stan! I know it’s you. I thought it was Daniel at first, but he’s too stupid to kidnap someone. Come out here where I can see you!”

She waited. Her breathing became more like the pants of a dog; heavy and rapid. She watched the doorway without blinking and still there was nothing.
“Mark? Please don’t be Mark. Not you. I really liked you. Please don’t let it be Mark.” Gracie’s voice cracked and she broke into tears while still trying to pull her wrists away from the bedposts. She closed her eyes and let her head sink deep into the pillow. The doorway had won the staring contest. Her tears streamed down either side of her face as she let out piercing cries.

“I’m not Daniel. I’m not Stan. I’m not Mark either,” a voice said. Gracie stiffened and shifted her eyes all around the room. She didn’t see anyone but the voice was there.

“I’ve been waiting for you to come back to me, Gracie.”

Gracie was frightened and directed her stare back toward the doorway. Suddenly a man arose from the foot of the bed and grabbed her ankles. She screamed that terrifying scream and kicked as hard as she could.

“Get off me! Don’t touch me!” She screamed. But the man combined with the cuffs and ropes overwhelmed her. Then she looked up into his face. She stared him in his eyes. A feeling came over her at that moment. It wasn’t more fright. It wasn’t fear creeping up into her body. It was something else.

“Harold, let me go,” Gracie said in an annoyed tone.

CHAPTER 4

I told you she wasn’t going to fall in love with you again. See what happened? You never listen to me. I always try to tell you what to do but you never listen. You can’t help but do things your own way. I don’t even know why I’m here. You never consider anything I have to say. What is it going to take for you to finally listen to me, Harold? I could tell you not to jump from the top of the Empire State Building because you’d crack your skull into a million pieces, and you’d still jump! I don’t know why I bother. You aren’t going to be satisfied until I’m completely erased. It doesn’t matter to you whether I exist or not, does it? It’s like I’m already gone. I may as well be talking to myself.

“Gracie, you peed on yourself,” Harold said as he pointed to the vast puddle beneath her.

“Untie me, you asshole! I should have known it was you all along!’
Gracie threw her head back into the pillow out of frustration. The look on her face was painted angry. She hated Harold and would stop at nothing to ensure his knowledge of it.

“Let me clean you up first. After that, we can talk,” he said on his way to the bathroom.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” she shouted. “I want to go home and I don’t ever want to see you again!”

Harold came from the bathroom a moment later with a bucket of soapy water, a wad of newspaper, and a sponge. He had a smile on his face as if he were doing something valiant. He placed everything beside the bed and grabbed the edges of the pee-stained sheet. In one quick motion he snatched the sheet from beneath Gracie and tossed it in the corner. He then leaned closer to Gracie and let his fingertips dance from her neck to her stomach. Gracie cringed at his touch.

“Gracie, why don’t you like me? What did I ever do to you?”
She replied by spitting in his face. He didn’t even bother to wipe it away; it rolled off his cheek by itself.

“I love you, Gracie. When are you going to come back to me?” He asked. He forced a few sheets of newspaper under her butt to cover the wet spot. Gracie was disgusted by him and tried to move herself every time his dirty hands came near to her.

“Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed you, Gracie? He asked as he walked over to the closet. He slid the door open and reached up toward a shelf. Gracie watched his arm disappear into the closet and come out again with a pair of scissors.

“What are you doing with those?” She asked with a tinge of fear in her voice. “Don’t hurt me, Harold…please.”

“Hurt you?” Harold rolled his eyes. “Gracie, I would never hurt you. I love you.”

He walked over to the bed again and seated himself next to her. He lifted the edge of her soaking wet panties and slid it bewteen the scissor’s blades.

“I hope you aren’t going to miss these,” he said as he sliced the fabric with the sharp blades. He marveled at her exposed thigh and tried to caress it, but she moved herself away from him.

“I wish you would come back to me, Gracie. You don’t have to live alone,” Harold said to her. He had a sweetness in his voice and meant what he was saying. Gracie was so clouded with anger and disgust that she tuned out his sweet talk. She only wanted to leave and never see him again. he reached in the the bucket and fished out the sponge. He squeezed the excess water from it and placed it gently on Gracie’s thigh. She began convulsing wildly and cursing him.

“Don’t touch me! I’d rather smell like pee than have you touching me!”
“Gracie, why are you treating me like this?”

“Because I hate you,” she screamed. “I fucking hate you!”

Harold felt his anger rising. He only wanted to rekindle their flame; why was she denying him? He picked up the bucket of soapy water and angrily threw its contents onto Gracie; soaking her from head to toe.

“You always want to do things the hard way,” he screamed back. He watched her squirm and shake her head from side to side.

“My eyes! The soap is burning my eyes!”

Almost immediately he rushed to the bathroom and came back with a damp cloth. He settled next to her and gently wiped her eyes; she let him.

“I didn’t mean it, Gracie. I didn’t mean to get soap in your eyes. You’re the last person in the world I would ever hurt.”

Look at her, Harold. She’s crying again. You tell her that you don’t want to hurt her, but you’re hurting her by invading her life all the time. Can’t you understand that she doesn’t need you? Isn’t it obvious that she doesn’t want you? Why don’t you just untie her and leave things the way they are? Go home, Harold.

Harold used the cleanest towel he could find in that ratty apartment to dry Gracie off with. She didn’t squirm around this time and that gave Harold a little comfort. Once she was partially dry, he settled himself next to her again and listened to her cry.

“I want to tell you a story,” he said. “It’s a love story. There once was a man who shuffled through life unsure of himself. He hated who he was and thought his only destiny in life was to die old and lonely. Then one day he met a girl and she turned his life around. They fell in love and had eight happy years together. On the ninth year, the woman decided that she was unhappy and started drinking heavily. That broke the man’s heart. He tried to do everything he could to help her but nothing worked. He even quit his job to devote all his time to her but the woman seemed to grow to hate him. One morning, he woke up and she was gone. Every time he found her again, she would only call him names and turn him away. She made the man feel like shit inside.”

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” She begged.

“Because you promised to love me forever. We promised each other and I’m holding up my end of the promise.”

Before she could respond, they heard the loud pounding of someone banging at the front door.

“This is the police, open up!” They heard a heavy voice exclaim. Harold rushed to drape a towel over Gracie and made his way to the front door. When he opened it, he was faced with three officers all yielding guns.

“We had reports of a woman screaming. We need to search the apartment.”

Harold’s mouth froze as he moved to the side to let the officers pass. They rushed into the apartment and looked around corners and down the hallway. Gracie wasn’t making a sound. Suddenly an officer burst into the bedroom.

“There’s a woman tied to the bed!” One of the officers bellowed out. Harold found himself pressed against the floor with a gun to his back.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, you sick son of a bitch?” The officers yelled at him. He was pressed beneath the officer’s weight and could barely breath.

CHAPTER SIX

You’ve really done it this time, Harold. There’s no way you’re going to weasel out of this one. Gracie hates you. She’s going to tell the police everything and you’re going to go to prison for a long time. She’s going to tell the police how you kidnapped her and tied her up. She’ll probably tell them that you raped her too. You wanted to, didn’t you? Now this fat officer has you pinned to the floor and there’s nothing you can do about it. What are you going to tell the judge, Harold? Do you really think your bullshit story about love is going to hold up in court? Nothing you do or say is going to save you now. You really can’t afford to go to jail, Harold…

“I bet it was that bastard in 665 who called the cops. He hates any noise,” was all Harold could bring himself to say. The officer cuffed Harold’s arms behind his back and made him sit on the shabby sofa.

“Your best bet it to just stop talking.” The officer advised. He leaned over and whispered something into another officer’s ear and the man nodded in agreement. Then he walked into the bedroom and closed the dorr behind him.

“We’re going to get to the bottom of this right now,” the officer said to Harold. “Don’t you try anything.” He tapped his fingers on his pistol in a way that let Harold know he wasn’t shy about using it. His name badge said Dagney.

Harold just sat there and stared at the floor. The apartment was quiet. Too quiet. He thought he heard clear words coming from the muffled voices in the bedroom, be he couldn’t be sure. He tried to imagine all the horrible things that Gracie was telling the two officers. She was probably adding a bunch of other things in that didn’t even happen – yet.
Harold wanted to confess his crime to Dagney. He assumed that things would go easier for him if he were honest.

“I want to tell you the truth,” Harold began. Dagney raised an eyebrow and stepped a little closer.

“You want to confess something?” Dagney asked. “Are you sure? You know that you’re incriminating yourself right now?”

“I understand that, Sir.” Harold said. His palms were growing sweaty.
Suddenly, the bedroom door flew open and Gracie came prancing out, fully clothed. She straddled Harold and gave him a deep kiss. His body froze up and he didn’t understand what was going on.

“It seems the two were role-playing some sexual fantasy at the woman’s request,” one of the officers from the bedroom said to Dagney. “Also, neither one of them have any warrants or fines.”

Dagney sighed. It seemed like a sigh of disappointment. He really wanted to crack Harold’s skull open.

“My boyfriend and I just like to play, don’t we Harold baby?”

Harold could only nod his head in stupefied agreement.

“Well, keep it down. There are other people living in this building besides you,” Dagney said.
Gracie was still seated in Harold’s lap as they watched the officers clear out. Dagney was the last to walk out and he looked back at the two as if something wasn’t quite right. He just shook his head in disbelief and left.

CHAPTER SEVEN

You’re a lucky bastard, Harold. She had all the power in her hands and she could have used it against you. Don’t take this as some kind of sick sign that she likes you again because you know she doesn’t. You can’t trust her, Harold. Even if she did go back with you, how long would it be before you woke up to find that she left again? Do you want to suffer that pain one more time? What would stop her from leaving again?
When Gracie tried to move away, Harold grabbed her by the hips and held her in place.

“Why did you lie to the cops? Why didn’t you tell them I kidnapped you?”

She didn’t say anything. Harold shook her by the shoulders a little.

“Answer me!”

“You know why,” she whined. “Don’t play dumb.”

Harold didn’t want to be stupid and fall deeper for her. Somehow, he felt that he was slipping anyway. He grabbed her and embraced her for a moment and couldn’t understand why she wasn’t hugging him back.

“Gracie, come home with me,” he begged. But she only returned his advances with more cold.

“I can’t be with you. Your love is like a prison. I feel like I’m suffocating when I’m with you. You want to get married and have a family. Those things were a thrill to me nine years ago, but not now. We were young at the time. I didn’t know who I was back then and I’m just finding out that the person I am supposed to be isn’t supposed to be with you, Harold. I don’t love you.”

He replayed her words in his mind.

I don’t love you.

I don’t love you…

How could she not love him after everything they had been through together? He thought he felt his heart tearing and he grabbed his chest to see if it actually was. His arms became limp and he lossened his hold on her. She slipped from his arms and stood, looking down at him.

“I want you to take me home now. I have a date tonight.”

Harold only nodded pitifully as he searched his pocket for the keys to the van.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Do you feel that pain piercing your chest, Harold? That’s your heart. Its never been this bad before, has it? When someone suffers from a broken relationship, it’s the same as having a physical wound. It’s the same as scraping your knee. It’s normal to feel that bad, Harold. You aren’t the first person to feel this way. But you’ve got something that Gracie doesn’t. You’ve got something that a million Gracies could never ever give you. Have you forgotten what that is? You’ll listen to me now, won’t you? When I hold up a stop sign, you’re going to stop now, aren’t you?

They stopped in front of her house. They were quiet. There wasn’t a single wod shared between them on the two-hour trip. Gracie had her body turned the whole time; looking out the window. It was 10 am, according to the clock in the dash. Gracie hopped from the passenger’s seat and gathered the biggest bundle of her clothing that she could manage. She didn’t want to ask for Harold’s help, but he helped her anyway.

“Just drop everything right here on the porch,” she ordered. She had a spare key hidden in one of those fake rock looking things beneath a rose bush. Harold wished he had known about the key before. Once the door was opened, they placed all the clothes inside on the floor. Harold just stared at Gracie and tried not to realize the fact that he could never have contact with her again. He stepped outside and as she came to close the door, he stopped it with his foot.

“Wait,” he said. “I never thanked you for saving my ass back there.”

“I didn’t do it for you,” Gracie said.

Just as Harold turned to leave, Gracie called to him.

“Don’t write me any more letters,” she said.

He nodded that he wouldn’t.

“And please stop breaking into my house.”

Her words shocked him a little. She knew.

Those were her last words before slamming the door and locking it. Harold dragged himself to the van and tried not to think about how much he was going to miss her and what they used to have. He cried the whole way home.

CHAPTER NINE

Maybe you’ll listen now that you’ve had your heart shattered. Do you think that woman cares about you? She only cares about herself. And don’t go thinking she did you any favors by keeping quiet back at the apartment. She was only thinking of herself. Let her get ready for her stupid date. You’ve got better things to do.

Harold stepped into his house and listened for signs of life, but heard none. No television. No music. He walked straight down the hall and pushed a bedroom door open. Connie was still asleep. Maybe she didn’t know that Harold had even been away. He walked up to her bed and sat down next to her; placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“Connie, Sweetie,” he said. He watched as she opened her beautiful eyes and looked at him with love.

“Daddy!” She screamed as she rushed him for a hug. She held his neck tight in her little arms and squeezed it.

“I love you so much, my little baby,” he said to her.
Suddenly she pulled away from him and her little smile faded.

“Daddy,” she said in a serious tone. “Mommy isn’t coming back, is she?”
He wanted so badly to tell her that everything was ok. He wanted her to have a real family and not a broken one like most of her friends at school. But he couldn’t lie.

“No, Sweetie. We have to leave Mommy alone now.”

“But why?” Connie whined. He could see teardrops forming in her little eyes. “Doesn’t Mommy love us anymore?”

“Of course she does,” Harold said as his mind went back to the lie that Gracie had told the cops. “She loves us very much.”

“Then why isn’t she here with us?”

“Oh sweetie. Please don’t worry.”

He rocked her in his arms the way he used to do when she was first born. That was back when everything in their lives seemed perfect. He wanted to kick himself for being so stupid. All that time, chasing Gracie, had gotten him nowhere.

Harold swore to Connie that he would be there for her no matter what. When they were both calm again, Harold suggested that they go out for lunch at the coffee shop. He made sure that he looked and smelled his best; just in case Rita was working.

THE END!!

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