Moss On The Grass : The Blade Files

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Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Tom is asleep beside me. He will probably need a few hours to recover from his excessive burst of energy. I just lay there watching him sleep and tracing every inch of his beautiful body. His brown skin shines with sweat. It seems to gleam in the moonlight that pours through my windows. I listen to his soft breathing and can hear every beat of his heart as it pumps blood, catapulting it throughout his body. His heartbeat is loud, very loud. His heart must have been pumping at an uncontrollable rate, only moments before. Yet, now as he sleeps, his heart is beating slowly. He is in total relaxation and will probably sleep for a very long time.

Without realising, I have begun breathing in synchronisation with Tom and it is surprising how quickly my own body begins to relax. I am drifting to sleep. I close my eyes and breathe with him, listening to the beat of his heart as my mind sends itself into sleep mode.

I am now in a field, a large open field in the country. I smell the scent of burning embers in the distance. Hear a woman cry out and her screams echo around the empty field.

I stand alone in the darkness, inhaling the burning air, allowing the toxic fumes to consume my body as I begin to walk further into the darkness. I walk forward to the beat of a magnificent drum that is pounding away in the back of my mind. I can see the flames in the distance, a burning house on a hilltop. The flames reach high into the star filled sky. I look up at the stars as though I have never encountered their beauty until now. There is no moon in the sky, just stars and darkness. The only light that fills this eerie world is the red luminance of the burning home.

The drum begins to beat faster as I start to run down a hill and I feel myself begin to fall. I land in water, a stream I had not seen before me. Yet, it is there and has always been. The cold water stings my skin as though it is ice and I look up to the house once more. I see movement within the flickering of the flames, a black figure, unrecognisable. Yet I know the figure. It is a man with no mercy in his veins and he is someone I love, yet, at the same time despise. I hear the woman’s screams again. She is within those flames, just as he is. She is becoming one with him and her screams of torment echo throughout the night.

I lift myself up onto my feet. Begin to cross the stream and fall into its depths. The water rushes over my body, consuming me. I can no longer hear her screams, nor can I see the flames. All I can hear is the beating drum and the laughter of a demented soul. The drumbeats grow louder and louder, splitting through my skull. My entire mind has become one giant beating drum. My body is now shaking with every beat and I can do nothing to escape the drum’s power.

I begin to cough. Perhaps I am drowning. I do not know. I seem to cough to the beat of the drum, which has taken the place of my mind. Huh…Huh…Huh…Huh...Huh. I feel my chest aching as though it is ready to explode and I can no longer breathe.

I wake and head straight for the bathroom. I stand over the ivory white basin and begin to cough as though the drum is still beating in my mind and I realise it is. It is beating and will not let up. I can feel my chest exploding, and as I cough, blood splatters into the basin.

I hear Tom coming to the bathroom. “Davad, are you okay?” I hear him ask.

I want to stop myself from coughing. Stop the blood from splattering, but I cannot.

Tom comes into the bathroom and quickly begins to rub my back. “God Davad, what’s wrong?”

I do not answer him. I cannot. I can only continue coughing and throwing up my own blood. Tom continues to rub my back, for how long, I do not know. All I know is that he is standing there, rubbing my back, watching me cough up blood and he does not say a word.

I walk out of the bathroom without saying anything to Tom and lay on the bed. I hear Tom run water into the basin, cleaning up my mess. I should have done that myself, but all I want to do is lie down and pretend that this did not happen.

I watch Tom come back into the room. He is staring at me with a look of concern on his face. It is a look I have never seen before.

“Davad, what’s wrong with you?” he asks as he sits down on the bed.

“I do not know, Tom. I will go see Marshall later.” I tell him and close my eyes.

“What do you mean later? Christ Davad! You’re coughing up blood! Let me take you to see him now.” Tom insists, running his hand across my forehead, “come on, Davad, you’re burning up.”

I open my eyes and stare into his. “I know what is wrong with me,” I tell him, “I have known for a while.”

“What? What is wrong with you?”

“Lay down with me Tom,” I say, patting the bed beside me.

Tom lies down and I wrap my arms around him then kiss him gently on the cheek. “The treatment did not work.” I tell him straight.

“What do you mean?” Tom sits up.

“Exactly what I said, the treatment did not work. France was…a waste of time.”

“You mean nothing happened?”

“No! Something happened.” I say, looking away from him.

“Tell me Davad…What happened? I want you to tell me.”

“All right,” I agree, but do not look back at him. “The cancer has spread.”

Tom gets up, walks around the bed and stands there, staring me directly in the eyes. “How long have you known for?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes it matters! How long have you known, Davad?”

“Since I came back” I close my eyes.

“And you didn’t bother to tell me?” He yells.

“I have told you now…Lets not argue, Tom. You know now, so it does not matter how long I have known.” I say, looking into his eyes again.

“You’re wrong Davad,” he snaps. “It matters a great deal because you lied.” he says as he dresses. “I’m going home! I don’t want to talk to you now…I need time. Jesus Davad, you lied to me…I can’t believe you lied!” he adds as he walks out the bedroom door.

I am oblivious to the traffic that surrounds me as I drive along the freeway. I am not even aware that I have entered onto the freeway. I am not heading anywhere in particular. Not to see Marshall Reed, as I had told Tom I would. The Angel Centre is the last place I want to be right now. I have far too much on my mind. I cannot possibly face Marshall in this state. I cannot let anyone see me this way.

My mind is everywhere, but in my head. I cannot think straight. I do not know how I am able to think at all. My mind is blank and yet, it is not. It feels as though the tumour has engulfed my entire skull, relinquishing all that is I and replacing it with someone else, another man, a man who cannot think, yet, can manage to have many thoughts. Thoughts of Tom and what will be going through his mind, at this very moment. He has these thoughts, yet this man that is not I, cannot think of anything else, cannot even fathom the world that exists around him.

For some reason that I cannot explain, this man who is not I, turns on my CD player. Music begins to blare through the speakers and my mind somehow returns to me. I am myself. I am the man in the car, the man behind the wheel, the man who drives to nowhere, on some freeway, perhaps to a destination that is unknown to me. Perhaps knowledge of that destination is only privy to that being that has possessed my soul, leaving me now, with no inclination at all, of where my future is heading.

I know the music that plays. It is Tom’s Banners CD. The song is not one of those that Tom plays very often, but I have heard it before. I recognise it as, ‘Down along the road’, a slow song. It is not particularly one of my favourite Banners songs, possibly not anyone’s favourite Banners song, but that does not matter. I could not care less about favourite anything’s at this moment. I just let the words to this slow song devour me completely.

“So now we go down along the road once more, and see what life has taken us for. This is a time when our love is right. So which one will we love tonight? Let’s not be the prisoners of time.”

That is how I feel right now. I feel like a prisoner of time, trapped in some other persons mind. This cannot possibly be my own mind, not this diseased thing. There is no doubt that this diseased mind is not my own, as my mind is fresh and young. It holds so many memories, so much beauty, and so much fascination. My mind is a mind that possesses so many blissful memories of Tom. All the times we have been together, so much excitement, so much love. But now it possesses images of other things, demented thoughts that cannot possibly be my own. These thoughts must belong to that someone else who has taken over my diseased mind. Taken control of all my thoughts and now all my memories belong to someone else. Fancy that!

“Captured in my heart, we don’t ever want to part, cause we should be with each other. That is the way we are to be as lovers.”

Even with my mind belonging to some other, Tom remains in my heart. That can never be possessed by anyone except for Tom and nobody can ever take that away from him. Not even now as he is considering what to do about my lie. A lie I have committed in his mind, not in my own. I will never lie to him and I have not. I simply prolonged telling him the truth. It had not been entirely my own choice. Rather I did it to save him from my own torment. He is my lover and I have to protect him from my diseased mind, until I am able to deal with it myself. That time has not come and now both of us must pay the price of my torment.

“This is the time. So we come to the mountain we must climb. Go down along the road to relieve this heavy load.”

It is becoming clear to me now. It is so clear that I can see it there right in front of my eyes. It has been there all the time yet; I had not noticed it until now. This moment in our lives has been inevitable. This time will pass us by and we will become one from this point on. I shall become he and he shall become I. All we need is to overcome our own burdens. To strip ourselves of the lives we have become accustomed to. It is a turning point: One of those events that change a person’s history and destroys all that exists, to form an entirely new beginning. A beginning that has an ending so clear that we will one day write it in stone, never to be changed, perhaps altered slightly, just enough to allow us to possess each other’s souls, to climb the mountain that stands between us, joining together as a single entity that will overcome all burdens and never divide for all eternity.

“Laying in your bed, the things going through your head. Makes you feel cold or hot but the love we share is a lot and will never escape our hearts.”

There is no doubt in my diseased mind that Tom will wake in the morning with the same revelation I encounter now. He will wake in a cold sweat, knowing we are one, so much so, that he cannot possibly live without me. We now co-exist as one being, one body, one soul and one mind; A healthy mind which is not my own, but his.

It is written in stone. Never to be erased. Not by he. Not by myself. Not even by the demented soul who has taken over my mind with no intentions of returning it to me, the rightful inhabitant.

“Davad is a bastard!” Tom announces as he emerges from the bathroom, where he has been since he arrived home.

Natalie has been lying on the bed, waiting for him to come out. “What?” she asks surprised.

“He’s a bastard! A fucking bastard!” Tom tells her as he lies down beside her.

Natalie wraps her arms around his body, pulling him close to her. “What did he do?” she asks.

“It’s not what he did. It’s what he didn’t do.”

“What are you talking about?” Natalie asks, confused.

“Davad is a liar, okay! That’s why I’m upset! He lied to me, Natalie. The fucking bastard lied to me,” Tom says as tears begin to fall down his face.

Natalie kneels beside him and wraps her arms around his shoulders. “Don’t cry Tom…Tell me what happened.”

“I’m not crying!” Tom stands, breaking free of Natalie’s grasp and leans against the mirrored robe doors, wiping the tears from his face.

“Okay then, just tell me why you’re so angry with him.”

Tom frowns. “I told you, didn’t I? He fucking lied,” he snaps, becoming annoyed at Natalie’s persistence.

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” Natalie asks, sensing his hostility is not about to subside.

Tom does not answer. He just stands against the mirror, staring at her, until she finally gets up and heads for the door.

“Don’t leave me Nat,” Tom pleads as he grabs hold of her pulling her close to him. He wraps his arms around her waist and begins to cry uncontrollably.

“Calm down, Tom and tell me what happened,” Natalie insists.

Tom wipes the tears from his face.

’Tell me Tom, why is Davad a liar?” Natalie helps wipe his tears.

Tom lies back on the bed. “He didn’t tell me about the cancer…He knew all this time and he kept it from me.” He closes his eyes, trying to stop himself from crying again.

“What about the cancer?” Natalie asks as she lies down beside him.

“The treatment didn’t work! It’s spread! The fucking cancer has spread and he kept it from me! Made me take him back and made me love him again!”

“Are you saying he’s known since he came back?”


“Why didn’t he tell you, until now?”

“Because he wanted me to fall for him again…I don’t know! He comes back and tells me everything is fine, makes me believe that we’ll be together forever and now…now, this! Now I’m going to lose him again!” Tom tells her, with tears rolling down his cheeks.

“He’s going to die!”

“Well, what do you think? That treatment in France was his only hope…Of course he’s going to die! That’s why he didn’t tell me!” Tom stares Natalie in the eyes.

“Maybe he thought you wouldn’t take him back if he told you right away.”

“That’s right! I wouldn’t have taken him back…I would never have let myself get so close to him again.”


“Why? Why do you think? I’m going to let myself get close to him, only to lose him in the end, am I?”

Natalie runs her hand across Tom’s face, wiping away the tears. “But don’t you love Davad?”

“Of course I do! I love him more than I love anything.”

“Then why are you so angry? At least he has finally told you…Imagine if he didn’t tell you at all,” Natalie says, trying to calm Tom down.

“That’s not right Natalie. He had no choice but to tell me! I don’t think he had any intentions of telling me at all…If he hadn’t coughed up blood this morning, we’d still be living a lie.”

“He coughed up blood?” Natalie asks, screwing up her face at the thought.

“Yes…He was really sick this morning, really pale…He looked like shit,” Tom tells her. “And if it hadn’t happened, he wouldn’t have told me.”

“Do you know that for sure? Maybe he was just waiting for the right time.”

“The right time! What’s that supposed to mean? What? When he died!”

“No! Imagine how hard it would have been for him to tell you Tom. Davad would be so worried that he is going to lose you…Imagine if it was you. Would you have told him right away?”

Tom closes his eyes, resting his head on the pillow. “I’m going to sleep Natalie…I can’t deal with this now.” He turns away from her.

The irritating buzzing of my mobile phone interrupts my thoughts. I have been staring out into a field, thinking about Tom and listening to our song, ‘Yesterday’. Now my attention turns to the phone as I pick it up.

“Hello?” I say into the receiver.

“It’s Dover. Where are you?” the voice growls at me.

“Is there something wrong?”

“I was just wondering if you had talked to Tom yet?”

I look out to the field again. Have I told Tom? Of course I have, and now I regret it. This is not the way it is meant to be. It is not the way I had envisioned…

“Davad, have you…”

“I am coming over to see you. I will be there soon,” I tell Dover, cutting him off.

“Okay then, I’m at home. I’ll be expecting you.”

“I may be a while. I have to go see someone first.”

“Tom?” he asks.

“No! Not Tom, I have to go,” I say, ending the conversation with him.

Marshall Reed had walked me back to my car, after my visit to the Angel Centre. He was as surprised as I was that I had actually told Tom.

I had watched Marshall through my rear view mirror, his balding head shining in the sun, as he stood in the parking lot. I watched him until he was no longer in sight and then I was on my way to see Dover.

Like all other visits to the Angel Centre since I have returned from France, it had not been a pleasant one. In fact, it had been one of the worst visits so far. Marshall had told me that I could really do without stress at this point and the fact that Tom had walked away was not going to do me any good. I promised Marshall that I would not let this whole situation effect me, but I know that I will not be able to control it. If Tom does not return to me, I will be devastated and devastation will bring disaster on my soul. It will lead to a depressive state that could quite possibly be my ultimate demise.

I cannot allow myself to continue with such negative thoughts. I need to consider all the positives in my life right now. The main thing to think about is the fact that I am still alive and capable of functioning normally. If Tom’s decision is to leave me, then I will have to admire his courage for honesty and no matter what, I will continue on as if there is nothing standing in my path. I must continue to be the person that I and everyone else know, not the person I could quite possibly become, not the demented soul who possesses my nightmares and not anyone else! If I were to let them, and by them, I mean those dark angels who now inhabit my mind, if I let them take over, just take control, then I will be someone else and no longer myself. No longer Davad Moss. Fancy that!

I stretch out on Dover’s sofa and watch as he pours us both a drink, before seating himself on the coffee table before me. “What’s up Davad?” he asks as he hands me a glass of water.

“I told him!”

Dover takes a long slow drink of whisky as he examines my face. I close my eyes to his glare and picture Tom’s beautiful face, smiling and laughing.

“What did he say?” He asks, interrupting my thoughts.

“He called me a liar,” I open my eyes just in time to catch Dover staring at the front of my jeans.

He quickly turns his attention back to my face and the red glow on his cheeks tells me of his embarrassment for being caught. “Why did he call you a liar? He doesn’t believe you?” Dover asks, looking down into his whisky glass.

I study him for a few seconds and decide that at that very moment he is like an adolescent boy, so shy and innocent. Of course, that is hardly true of Dover, but at that moment, with his embarrassment so obvious, I could have easily been misled.

“No, he believes me. He just has a problem with how long it has taken me to tell him,” I inform him, and then smile slightly as he lifts his head and our eyes meet.

“I told you that you should have told him ages ago, Davad.”

“I know, but I could not tell him. I was waiting for the right moment and the moment came upon me without any warning and now he knows.” I have another drink of water.

“What do you mean Davad? I don’t understand,” Dover says, confused.

“I hardly understand it myself. Look, Tom walked out this morning after telling me he needs time to think, so that is what he is doing.”

“Are you two going to break up?”

“No! No way. I love him too much and he loves me. We will get through this, I know we will,” I tell him as I sit up.

I place my hands on Dover’s thighs. “You have to help me. I need you to talk to him, to tell him how much I love him and I cannot live without him. You have to make him see that he needs me just as much as I need him,” I squeeze his thighs slightly. “Will you do this for me?”

Dover swallows a mouthful of whisky then looks down at my hands on his thighs. A slight grin crosses his lips. He is probably sexually aroused. “Of course I will. You know I’d do anything for you, Davad… Anything.” he tells me with a smile.

I am driving down the road once more and my mind is speeding faster than the engine. I know Dover will do anything for me. He will talk to Tom and then everything will return to normal. No! That is a lie. Things will not be back to normal because I am no longer normal. I am no longer the same Davad Moss I have grown up knowing all my life. I am an entirely new person, who is in pain and has demented thoughts, which now control him.

I had left Dover’s house in a rush. My mind had wanted me to stay the night there. My mind had wanted to let Dover hold me, to let him comfort me, in my anguish. But my body, the body of the true Davad could not allow it. My body would have perhaps detached itself from my mind, if such an event had taken place. Then where would I have been? What would I have become then? A different Davad Moss, different to the true one and the demented one. I guess in a farcical way I would have become the Davad Moss with a split personality. I now know I really have lost my mind and I also know that I am in no way a comedian, not this century anyway. Joseph would have laughed at that one. It would have amused him a great deal, as it would have amused Tom. Not knowing that I have thought about Dover the way I have, but the joke would have amused Tom.

He is in my mind now. His brown hair shining like satin, his beautiful eyes, full of life, smiling in my direction and his body, soft and sensual. I am aroused and he is not available for my carnal desires.

“Hello?” Dover says into the receiver.

“Hi, it’s Natalie.”

“Natalie! What can I do for you?”

“I’m really worried about Tom and I need you to do something for me.”

“Davad Moss was just here. He told me what happened with Tom. Do you want me to come over and talk to him?”

“Yes, I want you to talk to him, but he’s not here, that’s why I’m worried.”

“Why? Where is he?”

“He went out. He said he was going downtown for a drink.”

“He went downtown to drink!”

“Yes, he did.”

“Who was he going down there with?”

“He went by himself.”

“What! He’s alone?”

“Yes. He’s got his phone on him, so maybe you should give him a call. He’ll listen to you...He doesn’t seem to want to listen to me.”

“Okay, I’ll call him. Is he really upset about this?”

“Yes he is. He can’t deal with this…I know he wants to deal with it, but I don’t think he knows how to deal with it.”

“Well, it would have been a major shock for him. I told Davad to tell him months ago.”

“You knew about the cancer?”

“Yes, I knew.”

“Why didn’t you tell Tom?”

“I couldn’t do that. It was Davad’s decision to leave it so long…He’s been having a hard time dealing with this himself.”

“I suppose it would be hard to come to terms with, but he still should have told Tom right away!”

“You’re right Natalie, I agree totally, but that’s the choice Davad made. It was obviously a mistake and now they both have to live with it.”

“Well we need to get them through this. You will call him, won’t you?”

“I said I would, but I have to go Natalie, I have another call waiting so I’ll speak with him as soon as I’m done with this other call, all right?”

“All right,” Natalie agrees.

I lean back on my sofa, feeling a little nonchalant; my gaze focused on a bottle of tequila that I have half consumed, however, my mind is not thinking about the alcohol before me. My mind is far away, trying to figure out what Tom will be doing right now. Will he be tucked away in his bed? Or will his mind be wandering to find me? Our minds may even cross paths in the process. Perhaps our thoughts have drifted right pass one another, without even feeling each other’s presence. I truly believe it is possible for this to occur as many times I have felt my thoughts connect with Tom’s as we both lay in bed, alone, yet at the same time together; our thoughts entwined throughout the night.

Perhaps our thoughts will meet when I go to my bed, as I know very well that they have not connected yet and that only confirms one thing for me…Tom is not thinking about me. He is probably preoccupied with something completely different. I only wish that I could read his mind. How fulfilling that would be. If I could read his mind he would always be with me, if not in body, at least in the essence of my mind, yet right now he is neither and I am alone.

I pick up the Tequila bottle and take a swig. It is no use thinking about Tom as it is not doing anything for me, if not leading me into deep depression. What I need is to put Tom out of my mind tonight. I am badly in need of something besides Tom, perhaps something a little more congenial. With that thought in mind I pick up my mobile phone and press one of the many pre-programmed numbers.

“Hello?” The voice answers on the other end of the line.

“Joseph, Davad here,” I say as I have another drink of Tequila.

“Davad…I didn’t expect a call from you!”

“Really! Then whom were you expecting a call from?”

“No-one. It’s just unusual to get a call from you unless you want something.”

“I know I do not normally call unless I want something, but that is not why I called.”

“Oh! Why did you call Davad?”

“I just want to talk with you.”

“You just want to talk?” he asks, surprised.

I look at the photo of Tom and I hanging above the fireplace and I smile. I do not just want to talk, I want more than that, but I need desperately to get to know Joseph better right now. Getting to know my friends is one of my main priorities as they are all I have left.

“Yes, I just want to talk…Are you busy tonight?”


“Well would you like to come over and have a drink with me?”

“I thought you wanted to talk?”

“I do, but we can talk and drink.”

“Okay then…I’m on my way.”

“Good, I will see you soon.” I hang up.

Ben Dover pressed redial on his mobile phone only to receive the same message he had received for the past half hour. Tom’s phone is out of service. Dover stared out the window of his limousine, as it cruised along the city’s main nightclub strip. This was the third time he has driven along this street in his search for Tom.

The street was ablaze and alive with nightlife. All the strangeness that exists in the city was filling the clubs as crowds swelled out onto the sidewalk and Dover wondered if he would ever find Tom amongst the huge crowds that had decided that tonight was a good night to hit the clubs. He pressed redial once again as the limousine prepared to make a u-turn, to scan the street once more, in search of Tom’s undoubted presence.

Natalie lay on the bed, flicking through her photo album. She smiles as she turns to her wedding photos... It is New Years Eve and Tom is standing there in a black tuxedo and right beside him stands his best man, me, Davad Moss. Natalie had always thought we looked so perfect together and during the ceremony she had a feeling that secretly Tom and I were the ones who were marrying, and that she was just a bystander, just the matron of honour or that in reality she was actually giving the groom away.

It should have been the happiest day of her life, but it had been nothing but strange. They were marrying in front of all their friends and family, yet Tom had been thinking only of me, not of the beautiful bride who stood beside him in her long white satin gown. Rather, it was me whom he had wanted to marry and in some strange way that had occurred.

The wedding night had been even stranger as Tom had spent the night in an adjoining suite, consummating the marriage without her. He had made love to his best man and all that she received was breakfast in bed the next morning when Tom and I had brought it in for her, then returned to our own suite and had not emerged until the next morning.

Natalie was not bitter about it all. She had known about me from the very beginning and she had agreed to be Tom’s wife, even though it was not going to be a real marriage. Of course Tom loved her, in fact he was madly in love with her fiery diva looks and she knew that, however she also knew his heart belonged to me.

The wedding night was just not what Natalie had expected. She had thought that Tom would have at least spent the night cuddling her but that had not happened and Natalie knew from that moment on, just how much Tom was in love with me. We were inseparable and nothing as trivial as his marriage to her could keep us apart.

Dover’s limousine pulled to a halt as he glimpsed Tom walking down an alleyway beside a sleazy grope club with four other men. He ordered his driver to back up and go down the alley, stopping at the base of a stairwell and Dover stepped out into the darkness. He stood for a moment examining the four men that sat in the stairwell with Tom. They were all quite scruffy, with long hair that had obviously not seen shampoo for over a year, giving them the appearance of acidheads. Tom had a bottle of beer in his hand and was kissing one of these feral men on the lips.

“Tom,” Dover said as he walked halfway up the stairwell.

Tom did not look at Dover he just continued to kiss the longhaired creep who appeared to be in his mid twenties, with green eyes and purple hair. There was nothing attractive about him, nothing attractive at all behind the three-day growth and leather-clad skin.

“Tom!” Dover repeated, a little louder.

Tom looked up and smiled. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I have come to take you home.”

“He’s not going anywhere, except home with us,” the purple haired jerk told Dover.

“I wasn’t talking to you! Tom, come on, this is not what you want.”

“And how do you know what I want? Can’t you see I’m having a good time,” Tom said in a slightly slurred tone, drinking some more of his beer.

“Come on Tom…I’ve got vodka in the car.”

Tom thought about this for a moment, then looked at the beer bottle and stood. “Well, I’m out of here guys cause beer sucks and vodka don’t,” he said as he walked down the stairs and climbed into the limousine with Dover.

I hand the Tequila bottle to Joseph as he sits down. “You did not take very long to get here,” I say with a smile.

“Didn’t I?” Joseph smiles back at me.

“No. Anyway Joseph, I just wanted to talk to you,” I tell him.

“What do you want to talk about, Davad?”

“I want to talk about you.” I tell him as I slide across the smooth contour of the sofa until our legs touch and I place my hand on his thigh.

“About me?” He asks, surprised.

“Yes, about you. I realise that I do not really know you…I know you work with Blood n’ Fire, but what do you actually do Joseph?”

“Are you serious? You really want to know what I do?”

“Of course,”

“Well, I do some mixing on the guys songs…I produce their music.”

“You produce their music. That must be pretty interesting.”

“It’s great. I get to tour with them sometimes as well.”

“You only go sometimes? I thought that you went on tour with them all the time.”

“No. Sometimes I don’t, sometimes I just want a break from them, but I normally still catch up with them at some point during the tour,” Joseph tells me as he has a drink.

“That is interesting Joseph. You know, I was convinced that you never left their sides…I thought that you were practically attached to them.”

Joseph laughs. “I’m not attached to anyone,” he says giving me the most incredible smile which leaves me feeling somewhat aroused.

“What the hell do you think you were doing Tom?” Dover yelled as Tom sucked on the vodka bottle and stretched out on the seat.

“I was having a good time!” Tom told him then continued to drink.

“Having a good time. Really? And what were you planning to do Tom, go home with them and get laid?”

“Maybe,” Tom grinned, while staring at the roof of the limousine.

“Maybe! What, all four of them?”

Tom sat up, staring Dover hard in the eyes. “What do you care, so what if I went home and fucked all of them…What difference does it make to you?”

“Look Tom, I do care,” Dover said as he moved across and placed a friendly hand on Tom’s shoulder. “It would have been a huge mistake and one that you would regret tomorrow.”

“Okay, so you’re right, but at least I would have had a good night, tonight.”

“Yes you would have, and the press would have a field day with it,” Dover told him. “Is that what you want?”

“Of course not! I just wanted to think about nobody but myself tonight.”

“And that always gets you into trouble,” Dover draped his arm around Tom’s shoulders. “You don’t want to go around sleeping with weirdoes. You can do much better than that.”

“Can I?”

“Yes! You can come down to The Gallery and I’ll set something up…Do you want to go there now?”

After a long drink of vodka Tom leaned back in his seat, breaking free of Dover’s grasp. “No! I don’t want to go to The Gallery. I’ve got vodka now and your company. What more could I possibly want?” Tom told him sarcastically.

“That’s right Tom. You have my company, so if you want to talk about what happened today with Davad, I’ll listen.”

Tom sat forward, reaching across to the entertainment unit, where he flicked through a stack of CD’s. “You got any Banners in here?”

“Yes…What? You don’t want to talk about it?”

“I want to listen to music,” Tom told him as he placed a CD into the stereo.

“And that is all there is to you and Gunna Lane?” I ask Joseph.

“That’s it,” he tells me with a smile.

I am now lying down on the sofa, resting my head on Joseph’s legs. “You have really nice hair Joseph,” I tell him as I reach up to run my fingers through his long brown hair.

“You think so?” He asks, looking me in the eyes.

“Yes, I do.”

“You’re just saying that Davad…What do you really want?” He asks, taking a mouthful of Tequila, before handing the bottle to me.

I have a drink. What I want, he cannot possibly give to me, as he is not the one I truly want it from. “I do not want anything Joseph. I just want to talk with you and drink.”

“Come on Davad. You can tell me the truth…There’s some other reason why you invited me here, isn’t there?”

“Okay,” I admit and sit up. “There is another reason…I needed to take my mind off something that happened today and I thought that you would be a great distraction.”

“I’m a distraction?” He asks. “I don’t know whether I should take that as a compliment or an insult.”

“Believe me Joseph, it is a compliment…when you are around, you have all of my attention and I can forget about everything else.”

Joseph takes the bottle from me and swallows a mouthful of alcohol. “What happened today to make you call me?” He asks.

“I cannot tell you that,” I grin.

“Why not?”

“Because then I would be thinking about it and that is not what I wish to do, remember?” I tell him, then lie back down, resting my head on his legs again.

“It feels like forever, forever all alone. Feels like one hundred years, dying on my own.”

Tom laid across the seat, soaking up every word of the Banners song. ‘Dying all alone,’ is that what he is going to let happen to me? Tom closed his eyes, to think about me and what he will do about the situation.

“Now I may have lied to you, but you know that’s not a crime, cause you know that I’d die for you and I’m slowly running out of time.”

I have lied, no matter what I say or whether I think that it is not a lie. What did I call it? Withholding the truth or something? Tom couldn’t remember exactly what I had said and it felt as though it was so long ago, or was it just overreacting? Was my lie really so major, or was I really just thinking about the way it would affect things? Did it even really matter if I did lie, after all, J.D Banners was right, wasn’t he? It’s not a crime to lie; however, it is a crime to be dishonest towards someone you love, especially with something as serious as that.

The lie was not really what was important here anyway. What was important is that I would die for the one I love and now I have no choice but to go through with that, and when will that happen? How long do I have left?

“You need to forgive me. You need to let all grudges be, cause I can’t stand it any more, can’t stand it on my own. I need you right back here, cause baby I’m dying all alone.”

Can I ever be forgiven, or more importantly, should I be forgiven? It is my own fault that I am alone. It is not an easy concept to understand why I did not say anything from the beginning. Why couldn’t I have just come clean about the treatment not working? It would have been so much easier if I had said something right away. How could I possibly take it upon myself to be so misleading for so many months? Now the decision was not as easy as it would have been that day. He is in love with me again. He can’t just walk away and watch me die alone. It’s something he just can’t do, not to me and not to anyone else that he cares for so dearly.

“I know that I should have said so many things. I just didn’t understand the pain that it would bring and now that you’ve left me, left me all alone. Baby I can’t stand; can’t stand being on my own.”

There had been so many moments when I could have said something. I could have taken the opportunity so many times. However, that is not unusual for me. There are probably many times when I have wanted to say things to him, but I don’t. He can always sense when I have something to say, but he will never question me. It is my choice whether or not I will show my emotions, but this time I have made the wrong choice. This time it involves his emotions. That is why he has walked out on me and he has no idea whether he can go back. Of course he wants to be with me, he always wants to be with me.

“So darling if you still love me, won’t you tell me so, cause before I hit the dirt I would really like to know.”

Love is an important issue here, one that shall not be overlooked. It would be so easy to just turn and walk away forever, if only there was no love involved, but love is a major reason why this decision is so difficult to make. How can he just walk out on someone he loves so much? Is it possible for love to die in a matter of seconds, a few seconds of words and lies? Can that kill love? Can it mean the end to all that binds two people together as one?

“That you need me, that you forgive me, and that in my arms is where you want to be. Cause now that I can’t stand it, can’t stand being all alone, I need you right here with me. Please don’t let me die all alone.”

Our love can’t possibly be gone, because if it were, he would not be thinking about me now. All he wants is to come to me right now and take me into my arms. He wants to make things better and make me feel all right again, but he can’t do that, not now, not tonight. He can’t make a rash decision about this, regardless of how I may be feeling, because it is he that he should think about tonight, not me, just him!

“Why do you always turn down my offer, Joseph?” I ask as I stand up, placing the empty Tequila bottle on the coffee table.

“Because I know you’re not serious.”

I walk across the living room to the base of the ivory staircase and sit on the bottom step, staring at him. “Come here,” I say, patting the step beside me.

“Why?” Joseph asks, looking at me strangely.

“Why not?” I smile. “Come on. Do not be shy.”

Joseph reluctantly stands and walks across the room, stopping in front of me. I stand up and grab hold of his hand.

“On second thoughts.” I say and begin to walk up the stairs, pulling Joseph along behind me.

“Davad, I don’t think we should go upstairs,” he protests, letting go of my hand.

I turn to face him. “What is wrong Joseph? I just want you to come upstairs with me,” I tell him and take hold of his hand again.

“I don’t think I should go upstairs, Davad. What about To…”

“Quiet!” I tell him, placing my index finger on his bottom lip. “Please do not spoil it Joseph.”

“Spoil what?”

“Well, come up stairs and let me show you. If you do not want it, after you at least give me a shot, I will never mention it again,” I promise and begin walking up the stairs.

Joseph follows behind me and I can feel his nerves. He does not know if he is doing the right thing and he probably has no idea of what is about to occur. I know. I know exactly what will happen once we reach the bedroom.

Tom sits on Dover’s sofa and rests his feet on the black coffee table while Dover is at the bar in the far corner pouring a drink. “I guess you don’t want one.”

Tom holds up the vodka bottle that he brought in from the limo. “I’m fine,” he says then has a drink as Dover walks across the room and joins him.

“You want to talk now?” Dover asks.

“Talk about what?” Tom asks then closes his eyes and leans back on the sofa

“What do you think?”

“I have no idea.” Tom tells him then has another drink.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about and you have no choice Tom. We are going to talk about it.”

“Are we?” Tom asks, staring him in the eyes.

“Come on Tom, you need to get it out of your system…I’m here for you.”

Tom sits up, turning his body around to face Dover. “What do you want to know?”

“I want to know what’s going on. I’ve talked to Davad and he told me that you walked out.”

“Yea I walked out! Why is everyone making such a big deal about this?”

“It is a big deal, isn’t it?” Dover pauses then asks. “What have you decided to do?”

“I haven’t decided anything. I haven’t even had time to think… That’s all I want, some time to think,” Tom tells him, then stands.

“Okay. Stay here tonight and think, but you have to sort this out. You don’t want to leave it too long. You know that, don’t you?”

“I know. I’m going to have a shower.” Tom tells him and walks out the room.

I unbutton Joseph’s chiffon shirt and run my fingers lightly across his bare chest. His body quivers at the chill of my touch, but he smiles and I know he is enjoying it. I wonder if he has pictured this moment in his mind as I have visualised it many times. His reaction is as I expected, he is afraid, not of me, but of the consequences that will follow. I run my hands down his sides then wrap my arms around his waist and pull him closer to me. Our faces are inches apart and I stand there staring into his eyes.

As I stare into his dark brown eyes, I can see that he is besotted. I know that it is foolish of him to be so. He cannot possibly love me as I am just one of those things that are never meant to be. His love is never going to be mine, as mine will never be his. This will be just one fleeting moment in time, a moment that will later mean nothing, never to be spoken of, nor thought of again.

Our mouths touch and his lips are soft. They make me think of Tom’s lips because Tom has the kind of kiss that you can easily lose yourself within. Joseph’s kiss is not like his as I am unable to lose myself in his kiss and I am not even thinking about kissing him.

I move from Joseph’s lips and I kiss him softly on the chest, before continuing to his stomach. As I kiss his stomach, I begin to unbutton his jeans.

“I can’t do this,” Joseph says and pulls away from me.

“What?” I ask as I stand in front of him.

“I’m sorry Davad. I just can’t go through with this,” he tells me as he buttons up his shirt.

I sit on the wrought iron bed end and smile at him. “You are right that we should not do this because it will ruin our friendship…you want to go back down stairs and have one last drink together, before you go home.”

“Sure,” he agrees, but by the time we reach the bottom of the stairway Joseph changes his mind about one last drink and I politely walk him to his car. As he drives away, I know that it will be a long time before he feels comfortable being alone with me again. I have overstepped the bounds of our friendship, for one lustful moment.

I return to the upstairs bedroom and lay on my bed, thinking about the mistake I have made tonight. I know that if I had told Tom about the cancer earlier, I would not have committed this sin, however, now I have and that cannot be changed. I will just have to resolve the issue over time. Time is always an issue lately and it seems as though time is ruling my life. I have no control over it, yet it controls me completely.

As I think about time and what it means to me now, I feel myself drifting into that place of darkness. I try to fight it, try to pull myself back into consciousness, but it is no use, my mind is not capable of fighting such forces. My mind does not even acknowledge my requests as it is under the influence of the night, soon to be overcome with darkness and my mind will become naked to the night.

Naked! That’s how I am. I am standing naked in a very dark place. I cannot see anything, yet I feel hundreds of eyes upon me, looking at me, through me, caressing my body with their glare then looking away to some other place.

The eyes are not those of strangers, they are all familiar, belonging to all those I have ever known; friends, acquaintances, or those I have met through one fleeting moment, a moment never remembered, with names forgotten, never recaptured until now.

I am aware of my nakedness, aware of the eyes upon me and I know that in a conscious state I would have covered my body, hidden it from their eyes as is not for their enjoyment. I would never have allowed these eyes to even glimpse the natural beauty of my nakedness.

My cries for sanctuary are left unnoticed. They do not register to the eyes that surround my being. They do not even register to my brain. I am alone in the darkness with not even myself for company. My body is alone and naked. I cannot move, cannot control the body that used to be mine. I am helpless and cannot escape this place, I cannot run, or hide as I am powerless against all forces. I am, such as, a lamb is to the slaughter.

The feeling of being a lamb is a feeling I have encountered on many separate occasions. It is a feeling that tells me the eyes surrounding me are not really there, yet, I stand naked, unable to move within the eyes of some other being who has come to me in the darkness so many times and has implanted itself somewhere deep in the darkness of my brain. It has taken haven inside me and will wreak havoc for all eternity.

I feel my body break free from the forces that hold me in the darkness, feel myself float through the stale air, which is very old and very cold. My eyes focus on the ground below and I see a cradle that holds a child. Candles burn in the room that surrounds this child and they burn red, not white, they do not even flicker with any hints of yellow or blue, just red flames that give off a heat so great that the child will possibly die of dehydration.

The child cries the hardest of tears and runs a temperature so great that it should be dead and as I look upon its face I realise that I am the child in that cradle.

As this realisation hits me I hear the voice of a woman from somewhere in the darkness beyond the room. Her voice grows nearer and I know it is the voice of my mother. A mother I have never met and have not even heard speak before now, yet, I know the voice belongs to her.

I turn my attention to the entrance of the room. Can still hear her voice growing nearer and I wait, hoping to see her for the very first time. I watch as the door opens and catch a glimpse of the woman as she enters, then I am falling, falling from a great height, straight through the cradle below me and beyond, until my fall is broken by cobble stones and I stand up to find myself in a place even older than the one before. I am standing in what seems like an alleyway, in a place I do not know, probably in a world that I have never seen.

I hear footsteps coming from the far end of the alley; they are light and sound ever so softly on the cobble stones. They are the footsteps of a woman alone in the night. I find myself drawn towards her, in an attempt to see her face, yet as I walk I have a strange feeling that I am not the only one in the alleyway with her. There is someone else, someone I cannot see, but whose presence is evident. I look around, searching all the dark crevices, but there is no one else in sight. As I search for the other person I am suddenly startled by an ear-piercing scream. It is her scream, the scream of the unknown woman. Something has happened to her and I find myself running down the alley towards where her screams and I stop still. My ears have deceived me. The alleyway is empty. There is no one else in sight and no indication of anyone having been here before; yet, I still I hear her screams echoing through the night.

I turn around, wanting to make certain there were no other places she could have gone and I am startled to find that there is no longer an alleyway; instead I am confronted by a boy with tears running down his soft cheeks. He looks at me through his teary eyes and a smile creeps across his angelic face. I stare into his eyes and see Tom. The child is Tom, yet at the same time the child is a stranger who knows me, but does not, and as I stare into his eyes the smile withdraws from his lips and he runs away, disappearing into the darkness as I begin to chase him.

My pursuit ends as I stumble into a field and fall to my knees at the feet of a strange figure. I look up at the black figures face as it looks down upon me, but I cannot see its features as its face is clouded by darkness, clouded to my gaze. I strain my eyes, trying to make out the face, but I cannot. The only things I manage to see are its eyes, which glare with red, standing out like fire or blood and I know to whom those eyes belong. It is not so much who, but perhaps more of a what. I am at the feet of the martyr, in the eyes of the monster or perhaps the very beholder who possesses my once healthy mind. It is a torment within the torment, a journey to the meaning of life. I have gone deep inside myself to confront my own nightmare and I am unable to move, frozen at the feet of the martyr who controls me.

Tom walks into the kitchen and takes a seat at the table, where Dover is already eating a breakfast of bacon and eggs.

“You want some breakfast?” Dover asks, pointing to his plate.

Tom screws up his face. “No. Just coffee.”

Dover picks up the pot and pours Tom a cup of coffee. “Did you think about it last night?” He asks as he places a black cup with cursive pink writing in front of Tom.

Tom takes a mouthful of coffee then leans back in his chair. “Yes, I thought about it and I had a really bad nightmare.”

“You had a nightmare?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Well, are you going to leave me in suspense or are you going to tell me about this nightmare?”

“You really want to know?” Tom asks, staring into Dover’s eyes.

“I said I do, didn’t I?”

“Okay, I had this dream that I called Davad and asked him to meet me downtown.”

“You and Davad downtown?”

“Yes, I told you it was a nightmare.”

“I guess so, because Davad would never go downtown.”

“I know…Anyway, we meet up and talk over a couple of drinks then go home together and make love.”

“I thought this was supposed to be a nightmare?”

“It is! I’m getting there okay,” Tom tells him. “Anyway, we make love then fall asleep. I wake up in the morning and it’s not Davad in the bed beside me any more…It wasn’t Davad that I slept with at all.” Tom stops, has a drink of coffee then sits silently staring at Dover.

“Well, who was it?” Dover finally asks.

Tom smiles. “It was you!” He laughs.

“That’s not funny,” Dover tells him. “It’s not funny at all.”

“I’m sorry,” Tom smiles. “I was just joking. Actually, when I woke up Davad was dead, right there in the bed beside me.”

“He was dead?”

“Yes and I realised that I had waited almost two years before that night…I waited two years before I made up with him, only to find him dead in the bed the next morning.”

“What did you do?” Dover asks, interested.

“I woke up.”

“That’s it?”

“No, that’s not it. It made me realise what I need to do,” Tom tells him then drinks some more coffee.

“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to see Davad,” Tom tells him then stands. “I’ll talk to you later.”

The martyr has taken me on a journey to faraway places, some that I recall, and others I do not. I have felt real fear for the first time in my life and I am afraid that I will be taken to some place, far away from the known world, and I will be left there, never to return or never to look upon the world that I know again.

I witnessed many tears throughout the journey, heard many screams in the night. The child from the alleyway returned to haunt me, many times. Fires burned uncontrollably, and blood flowed as though it were a river: The river of life, the river of death and all life at one point ceased to exist, as have I.

I am dead in the night, yet alive in the eyes of the beholder, alive only as the martyr’s beloved and nothing more. The ogre who torments me on this journey holds no remorse for my soul and he does not even care for all the demented acts that occur, thus I am motionless to do anything to stop the torture of innocent minds, nor to prevent the torture of my own.

The torment has continued and there is no end to it. I am under the power of a demented soul who shows me a world in which life does not truly exist, it is not life, not even an afterlife, rather it is something more powerful than that, something that has always been hidden away in my mind; a world that possesses no laws to govern those demented souls who walk upon its barren and lifeless soils.

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