I Have Ran (Part Four)

"You feel used. Your heart is breaking as you stand, and every part of you screams to get out. Your body aches from the misuse and your clothes are torn. There's blood and it scares you. You long to be free and you think to yourself, "Surely there is another way?"1

There isn't."2

Krystal screwed the note up in his hand and sobbed, pulling the covers tighter over his head. He curled his legs up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them and holding himself in a ball. 'Who are you?!' He screamed into his knee, clenching his fists.3

Heart pounding, Krystal emerged from the covers to reach out and take a photo from the side. It showed a simple, good-looking, but slightly overweight man, with short brown hair and grey-blue eyes, in a black t-shirt and a thick silver chain with a heavy cross. 'Why'd you leave me?' He begged to the photo. 'Why'd you leave me?! Who's after me?!!'4

In his dreams, the photo would respond to Krystal, in his fantastical dreams where everything was good. But then again everything isn't good, because in his dreams, he - Kirk - is still dead.5

In his dreams, Kirk would answer with smiles and comfort. Kirk would answer gently and reassuringly, but after he woke up, Krystal could never remember the answer.6

Krystal threw the photo against the wall. It cracked and shattered, and Krystal slumped back on the pillows, crying hard. He pressed his fists to his eyes, screaming as he let out his frustration in one burst. An exorcism of his pain; of today's pain.7

He finished screaming. And he couldn't cry anymore. Krystal shoved the covers away and crawled out of his bed, slinking towards the kitchen. He put his hands on his hips, letting the drafty air of his apartment sweep past and around him. It soothed him, calmed him a little as he walked to the side and switched the kettle on. He sighed deeply, sadly, and winced a little as he got a cup down. Everything from the waist-down hurt. The note was right. 8

Rough customers. He knew there was always going to be someone who would hurt him and unless he didn't want money he'd have to go along with that. But he hadn't expected to bleed.9

He dumped the coffee granules into the cup, along with a spattering of sugar. The kettle gurgled as it boiled, and Krystal sighed and gazed out the window. 10

He had loved Kirk dearly. Krystal had always been that guy at school - the promiscuous, flamboyant one, openly gay and the local gay "bike". But Kirk, the cute, adorable, loving, faithful Kirk. He'd changed that.11

And then he'd died, a year ago, and on top of Krystal's life falling apart... notes had started falling through the door. They had no pattern, other than knowing what he was thinking. They could come at any given time. He could go out and come back to find ten had arrived.12

Krystal poured the water and glanced over his shoulder at the living chair. Kirk's chair. It now served as a place for Krystal to lay his outfits out ready. Prepared for the next day was a pair of purple fishnets, a short black skirt, and a plain tank top. A pair of thigh-high leather boots, adorned with chains and locks and the occasional key.13

He hoped that the first man was there tomorrow, to make him feel better. The guy - Cory. Banter with him had felt natural, relaxed, and Cory had clearly known what he was doing. He knew what he wanted without making it uncomfortable. And the sex - mindblowing. When Cory had said he didn't like the other participant not getting any pleasure, he had meant it.14

At the same time, Krystal regretted having such an unbelievable induction into the business of prostitution. It had been almost too enjoyable; it made Krystal briefly believe that everything was that good.15

He'd soon been brought to earth by his next customer, a rough sadist with no mercy and all control. That's when the bleeding had started.16

Kalen, one of the more seasoned prostitutes, had comforted Krystal at the end of the day. His skirt ripped, his fishnets damaged beyond repair, blood dripping horribly down his thighs.17

Kalen had sighed and put his arm around Krystal. 'If it makes you feel any better, love, they do it because they... they sub-conciously know that you're new. They know you're innocent and they prey on it. They'll be fined, and if Nick sees fit, they'll be barred from the premises. Did the first bloke...?'18

'Cory?' Krystal had perked up lightly, then realised what Kalen was on about. 'He didn't hurt me. He was good... he was great. It was,' he sucked in a deep breath, 'Hot.' He laughed crazily through his weeping. 'Really hot.'19

Kalen patted Krystal's back dissaprovingly. 'I have to check. Cory's a regular customer. He's a slight thing for the sick and twisted and rough. I should know, I'm the only one who lets him. And... don't fall in love with the customers. Especially Cory. They make you feel special and they may appear genuine, but really, they're only there for the sex.'20

It occured to Krystal that it was unlikely for Cory to come back the next day. It seemed that way anyway, but despite himself, Krystal longed for the reassurance of someone like Cory. Someone who liked to share.21

Krystal sighed and sipped his coffee. He felt so tired and sick. 'I love you, Kirk,' he said loudly. 'I'm sorry about what I'm doing. But I couldn't keep up... I never had my qualifications... I never could do anything worth money and sex is the only thing I'm good at. I don't like touching, kissing, all these men who aren't you. It's good sex, from the nice men anyway. I love you, Kirk, god do I love you.'22

Krystal placed the cup back down. 'But I still don't see why you loved me.'