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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1368782-shock-therapy
Rated: 18+ · Fiction · Death · #1368782
how will spencer continue after the tragic death or her abusive boyfriend? (unfinished)
spencer was tired. she couldn't sleep, no matter how hard she tried, but her mind was tired and her body ached. she just wanted to go to bed, not still be sitting on the couch where she was. the room was dark, so if kyler came back, he'd probably think she was in bed. he wouldn't be surprised if she wasn't there, she'd often leave and he couldn't blame her. kyler didn't come home, though, and spencer stayed on the couch. the lights were out and the only noise was the sound of cars going by and the occasional person talking as they walked down the sidewalk. to a person outside, it looked like the house was empty, the car missing from the driveway helped the illusion and spencer really felt the same. she couldn't help but love kyler, he was so sweet, sickly almost, but there was something about him. she'd never told her friends about the troubles they had and she never intended to, though there were times she wished she could.

she wished she could explain WHY she was buying so much cover up or why she wore such long sleeves when it was so warm out. she wished she could tell them that it takes a lot of makeup to cover bruises just right when she wears short sleeves and that some days she's just so tired that she doesn't want to do it anymore and she wears those long sleeved shirts. she wants to tell them that it's like dr. jeckle and mr. hyde with kyler and that he's sweet and he loves her and he's nice and she loves him but then he goes out. kyler often goes out and when he comes back, he's not the same. he's someone else. spencer hates the smell of alcohol but she drinks socially when she's out with her friends, tries not to smudge the covergirl liquid foundation she put all over her arms to cover up what kyler already did and yes, she has a cocktail or a margarita. she doesn't go out often, though, because kyler's friends might see her there and they might see other guys around her and spencer's never been real lucky. her night of going out with her friends, her night of having fun, of having a good time is ruined because kyler's friends seeing her and they tell him. they're good friends, they tell him they saw his girlfriend out at a club. they're good friends, they tell him they saw other guys near her. spencer's night of going out with her friends, her night of having a good time because kyler went out and kyler had a good time, too. kyler's night of going out with his friends and having a good time is ruined, too, because of his temper and he thinks that spencer's cheating on him.

tonight was one of those nights. kyler went out, he said 'i love you, baby' and spencer nodded and she smiled. he left, she watched his car pull out of the driveway and she sat on the couch. there was nothing on and it was fairly early, still light out because he was going to a business meeting and then lunch, so spencer sat on the couch. spencer hasn't moved from this couch all night and she's starting to get stiff. it's getting late, but she can't read the clock to see what time it is and she thinks maybe she should get up, maybe she should go do something. sleep, read, cook herself dinner, something. because if kyler comes home, he'll see her. if kyler comes home, he'll see her sitting on the couch not doing anything and he'll wonder what's going on. spencer's bones ache with the idea of him coming home to see her like this, to see her just sitting there doing nothing. spencer can't imagine what kyler would think if he came home and saw her just sitting there. it wouldn't be 'hey, sweetie, have a good night?' no. spencer doesn't want to think about it, but it's so hard not to. this scenario has gone through so many times since spencer moved in with kyler that she doesn't want to think about it.


spencer didn't remember going to sleep, but sometime during what soon became a very long night, she'd moved her stiff body from the couch and gone to bed. she didn't remember pulling all the blankets back or laying down. she must have been asleep for quite some time, when she woke up it was light in the room and her immediate instinct was to shut the light off, until she realized that it was morning and the sun was out. kyler wasn't laid down next to her where he usually was, but she figured he'd drunk a little too much and stayed the night at a friend's house. he'd be back soon. spencer wasn't sure what woke her up, she usually didn't just come straight awake the way she had on her own. there was normally something else - a phone ringing or kyler telling her to get up. she sat up and rubbed at her sore shoulder, bruised from hitting it against a sharp edge of a wall, as she tried to urge herself to get out of bed when she heard the source what woke her up.

spencer didn't bother to change out of the tank top and shorts she had gone to bed in when she went to answer the door, she thought kyler had just lost his key or it was one of his friends bringing him home and not wanting to get the key from him. she was expecting a very hungover kyler so she stopped by the kitchen before she went to the door and got a glass of water and a tylenol for him. this was all too ordinary, it was too routine of her to be getting something for her alcoholic boyfriend's hangovers but she was used to doing it and didn't really mind. kyler always said thanks for the tylenol and ignored the water, instead going straight to bed. when it had worn off a little, kyler would get up and, just as routine as ever, he and spencer would get into a fight about something. something stupid or little but it would turn into something much more. once, spencer asked how kyler's night had gone and he said he didn't want to talk about it. spencer was fine with that, very used to kyler's typical secrecy about what he did when he was away. spencer hadn't meant to say it so sarcastically but kyler took it that way. he turned around, his jaw stiff as he looked at spencer - who was immediately regretting her statement. though spencer had often thought that maybe her boyfriend had another girlfriend, the thoughts would usually drift straight away and she would never mention it, but kyler thought that's what she meant by her reply. twenty stitches and a painkiller prescription later, spencer knew why she never wanted to mention things like that to kyler.

she didn't need the tylenol or the glass of water for the person at the door, but she carried them back in with her when they asked her to please take a seat. it wasn't the first time the police had been to her house, no the neighbors would occasionally call them saying they heard screaming two houses over and kyler would calmly explain that he had been hiding behind the couch for when spencer came out of the other room and he scared her, that spencer had been having a nightmare... spencer always wanted to tell them what really happened, but she'd change her mind when kyler turned and looked at her. she wasn't sure why the two police officers were here this time, spencer was never one to talk in her sleep so there was nothing for the neighbors to mistake as another fight with kyler. she simply sat down on the couch like they'd asked her to and waited for them to explain. they asked her the typical, polite questions 'how are you this morning, ma'am?' 'i'm sorry to bother you so early', things she'd gotten used to after numerous visits. the one thing she wasn't used to was what they'd said to her. she wasn't prepared for their explanation of their visit. as soon as the news of why they were their left one officer's mouth, the glass of water she'd been holding for when kyler came home dropped to the floor.

kyler. spencer had always been infatuated with his name. the harsh sound of the 'K' followed by the 'Yler', so much quieter and more plain sounding next to the beginning 'K'. spencer lived out in the country, where everyone had such boring names. john, mary.. traditional. awful. she hated those names, they were so common. and she hated her own, it was a boy's name and spencer was most definitely not a boy. she'd always been feminine looking, her long blonde hair that she refused to ever let anyone cut and her brightly colored clothes, which made her stick out in the tiny town she lived in. she hated out 'spencer' sounded. how it just glides across the tongue so easily, no real sounds to it. not like kyler's name is.

was. spencer wasn't sure what to say when she heard the news. even her movements stuttered as she moved to pick up the glass she'd dropped. she pushed her hair back over her shoulder and nodded slightly at the police officer. she picked up the shards of glass and just held them in her hand as she sat up again. she could have set them on the coffee table in front of her, separating her from the men standing just a few feet away. spencer was more shocked than she was sad, she knew that sounded awful but she wasn't really upset. most people would cry, but spencer was just speechless. she hadn't thought of anything when she woke up and he wasn't there, that his car wasn't even in the driveway and that there were no new messages from him. the last thing on her mind was the word death. she'd read the obituaries every day in the newspaper, very rarely if ever did she recognize the names. she'd never thought she'd be one of them. or worse yet, that kyler would. the police told her that he'd been driving home after drinking, on his way back to spencer and he crashed his car.

after the police left, they told her to have a nice day and they'd call her later to talk things over, something like that. spencer wasn't really listening although she nodded a few times as if she was. after they left, spencer dropped the glass onto the table in front of her, finally noticing that she'd been holding it so tight her hand was drenched in red and there was a puddle at her feet. she was so intently thinking of what happened to kyler that she hadn't noticed how bad it stung to have that broken glass digging into her skin. it took her a few minutes to get up and she didn't really mind that there was blood dripping from her hand the whole way to the bathroom. there was no one there to get mad at her for making a mess, no one there to tell her to clean it up, no one there to mind that it was almost 9 am and she was still in her sloppy looking pajamas. spencer got to the bathroom and walked to her sink and realized there was no one there to use the second one. spencer didn't wash her hands off, she bend over the sink and leaned her forehead against her arms and she didn't care that her blood was turning her gorgeous yellow hair an awful red color. she wasn't in shock anymore, now she was sad. she didn't like how kyler acted, but she couldn't stand the thought of him not being there.

there was no investigation. there was no need for one, kyler's death was clearly accidental. he'd been drinking. he got in his car. the end. spencer wished so bad that there was more to it, though. she didn't know why but during the days after she heard the news, spencer just wanted the police to call her or come over and tell her they missed something. they did a tox screen, there was more in his blood than just alcohol. something. she didn't care what it was but for some reason a simple drunk driving car crash wasn't good enough, spencer wanted him to have something dramatic happen. not national news material, she didn't want to be on cnn crying, magnified a hundred times for show on every tv in walmart. no, she just wanted it to be serious. she wanted him to experience what he'd caused her.

spencer had trouble sleeping and eating. it was so strange without kyler around, it was so odd of her to be able to leave a book laying on the couch next to her withouts someone asking what it was doing there and getting mad at her for making a mess. spencer wasn't used to being able to have whatever she wanted for dinner, she was used to kyler demanding that she make something. something for him, he never cared what she wanted to eat. but later, later when he was all sweet again he'd ask spencer if she'd had enough and if she felt okay. he'd tell her that she looked a little pale and sick and that he was worried. she always wanted to say that she probably got the wrong shade of coverup or that it was hard to look healthy with so many bruises covering your body, your face. she didn't tell him any of those things, she said no, no she felt fine. it was odd for spencer to be able to do whatever she wanted. it was so hard for her to get used to kyler not being around. and she was so sick of all the cards and the flowers. even after the furneral, she'd be bombarded with delivery boys handing her big bouqets and cards that said 'sorry for your loss'. what loss? loss of trips to the emergency room?

at the furneral, spencer didn't have to pretend to be sad. she thought she would, she practiced telling people how she missed them and once spencer got there and she saw all those people, she realized that she did. she did miss kyler, she missed his good moments. she missed when he was so sweet to her and she missed him laying there with her. on the drive home, she saw the cuts that were starting to scab away and fade off on her hand from about a week before when she heard the news and she remembered why she didn't miss him. she didn't miss all that pain. she missed the facade kyler would put up, the nice guy act he'd do around her. she didn't really miss kyler.

spencer never adjusted to change very well. from when she was a baby and her parents started giving her real foods instead of a little jar of mushed vegetables and a bottle, she'd refuse to eat them. she'd hide them in her mouth and spit them out later. she liked things to stay the same, even if that meant she wasn't happy with how things were going. she was never one to really argue, she'd more just go with what happened. her routine was the same every day, give or take a few bandaids.

during the month after kyler's death, spencer's routine was virtually the same. about a week after kyler's funeral, she got a job as a secretary at kyler's friend's law firm. she hated the job, but it paid fairly well and it filled her time. she grew bored sitting at home all the time and she most of all just wanted something to do. she wasn't a very fast typer and speaking on the phone to strangers made her nervous so she had a feeling that she only got the job because she had been dating kyler and they felt bad for her. she hated that feeling. each morning, she'd go into work and each morning, she'd sit at her desk and answer the phone, stare out the window, make and cancel appointments and say thank you to the people who would walk by and tell her they were sorry about kyler.

another thing spencer hated was that feeling that people were lying to her. she had it a lot when she spoke to kyler and she'd mentioned it once, but she decided, based mainly on the scar on her right shoulderblade that she now had to make sure her shirts covered, that it was much smarter that she didn't do so anymore. spencer wasn't stupid. she knew the people who would tell her how sorry they were about her loss were lying. she knew the other girls who worked as secretaries in the building - those tramps, spencer hated them and their short skirts, fake tanks and disgusting bleached hair - would talk about her when she wasn't there - or so they thought. she'd hear them giggling about what kyler used to do to her. she'd hear one of them tell the others horror stories about how he treated her while the others gasped. spencer wanted desperately to just walk around the corner she was hiding behind while they talked and see the looks on their overly made up faces when they realized she'd heard it all.

spencer didn't like change. she liked having those people walk in and tell her how sorry they were about what had happened and otherwise ignoring her. she liked knowing what was going to happen when she heard the heavy metal doors a few feet from her desk open. she liked knowing what was going to happen when she heard the footsteps going past her desk to the elevator. spencer didn't like change. spencer didn't like hearing the door open and hearing footsteps come to her desk and stop. she didn't like hearing the stop of those footsteps being followed by a voice. but she loved the blue eyes that came with that voice.
© Copyright 2008 spencer kail (spencerkail at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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