Et Tu, Brian? pt 4 (Rebirth)

I'm really not sure how I feel about this chapter. It's kind of not that good in my mind, so, obviously, there will be future edits. Kindly read and respond. Your feedback is crucial to me. Many thanks.

I somewhat want to rip this chapter to pieces because it's not very impressive. Oh, well.

PS: This one is sequential to the last posted segment. Thanks.
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My mother left for work on Friday night, informing me of her departure as I lay half asleep on her sofa, listlessly watching CNN.

“There’s baked ziti in the fridge if you get hungry,” she said, “and please be sure to take the dog out before you get too sleepy. I’ll be home in the morning.”

I nodded, sluggishly, letting my eyes flutter shut as she closed the door and locked it behind her. I groaned and rolled over on the sofa, pulling a blanket over the top of my head. I drifted off to sleep without hesitation, completely disregarding her request. It seemed that, only shortly after doing so, I found myself snatched from my world of wonders and hurled back into reality. My phone would not cease to ring. I rolled over and picked it up, without first reviewing who so desperately sought my attention.

“Yeah?” I growled.

“Brian? Were you sleeping? It’s me.”

I moved the phone away from my mouth and grumbled to myself,

“Oh, fuck,” I whispered before replying to her, “yeah, I was asleep. What’s going on?”

“You never called. Just wanted to make sure everything was okay. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for two days.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Do you want me to let you sleep?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“Well, will you please call me when you get up? Please?”

“Yeah, I’ll call.”

“It’s just, you know, it’s Friday night and I was hoping we could get together.”

“I’ll call you in a little bit,” I said, groggily, doing whatever I could to get her to leave me in peace.

“Okay, I’ll be waiting,” she said, much too cheerfully.

I hung up and turned my phone off, giving my best attempt to fall back into sleep’s sweet embrace. An hour later, after failing to do so, I rose from my nest on the couch to attend to the dog. I let her run wild and free by the waterside, allowing her to do her business in peace as my mind wandered. I reached into my pocket, in search of my cell phone, and turned it back on, curiously. I had anticipated a slew of voicemail notifications, missed calls, and text messages, but surprisingly, found none. I raised a brow, perplexed, and ushered the dog back inside of the apartment building. I flopped down on the couch once I’d made my way inside and allowed my eyes to glaze over as I stared, blankly, at the television screen before me. My eyes fluttered, once again, and I settled into my resting place on the sofa.

I mused on calling Calpurnia and convincing her to come over, but something about loafing around seemed far more appealing than her aggravating and sickeningly affectionate company. I curled beneath the blanket and debated sleeping or feeling her warm skin next to mine. Within the next restless hour, and against my better judgment, I placed the call, requesting her to join me in my nest. Promptly and ever-willingly, she agreed to arrive within thirty minutes. I sighed and buried myself below the blanket, wondering what I was doing and why I seemed so drawn to her now, all of a sudden.

I fell into a dreamless sleep shortly thereafter, but it didn’t last nearly long enough. In truth, I’m not sure which I’d have preferred less, not dreaming in sleep, or being with her. She rang the bell, forcing me to rise again from my haven. I went to answer the door, hair matted and clothing wrinkled. There she stood, crisply dressed and fresh faced, still glowing, still gorgeous, still spiting me without her knowledge of it.

“Hey,” I said, lethargically, before producing a tremendous yawn. I opened the door, wider, granting her permission to enter. She smiled much too sweetly, batting her eyelids with attempted girlish charm that only made me even more livid. I closed the door behind her and watched her as she walked around the apartment.

“It’s been so long since I was here,” she said, as though a child visiting Disney World for the first time. I flopped back down on the couch and shook my head,

“Nothing’s changed,” I said. She looked at me and smiled again,

“I missed it.”

I snorted,

“God, whatever for? I can’t even stand being here.”

She sat down beside me on the sofa and sighed softly,

“How’s your mom?” she asked.

“Working. Can we not talk about her, please?”

“Oh, sure, sorry,” she said, quietly, abashed.

“It’s fine, I just, I don’t feel like bringing her up. You know?”

She nodded like a simpleton, crossed her legs and folded her hands on her lap.

“So, what do you wanna do?” she asked.

“Oh, I don’t know. We could watch a movie or something, I guess,” I said, defeated, bored, and incapable of upholding my callousness.

“Okay,” she said, smiling in that same nerve-wracking manner of hers.

I grabbed the remote and flipped through the available options, choosing what I felt to be the least insipid and mind-numbing. She wouldn’t have cared what I’d chosen, anyway. The girl could have been pleased as pie sitting in a dirt road with me, for crying out loud. I’d never witnessed anything as sad as how spineless she was. I leaned back on the sofa to relax and watch the film. She continued to sit straight up, still posed in her proper position. I sighed and touched her arm, causing her to look back at me with her wide blue eyes.

“Lay down,” I insisted. Slowly, she leaned back onto me and I awkwardly wrapped an arm around her. She rested her head upon my chest as we watched the film. Some moments later, she lifted it and looked at me.

“You heart is beating so fast,” she said, “are you all right?”

“It happens,” I said, urging her to shut up.

She laid her head back down and kept quiet. It almost felt normal, laying with her, cuddling, stroking her back as she listened to my rapid heartbeat, our eyes firmly fixed on the television screen. For a short time, I seemed almost content with the situation, but I knew that that feeling couldn’t last. Near the end of the film, I began to grow increasingly uncomfortable as a slight wave of panic washed over me. I tapped her on the arm several times and she looked at me, startled and confused.

“My arm’s getting numb,” I lied.

“Do you want to lay on me?” she asked. Too tired to argue the idea, I nodded and we switched positions. I rested my head on her chest and listened to her heart beating as she stroked my hair. I closed my eyes and drifted away, too relaxed and comfortable to deny.

“Brian? Brian? Are you asleep?”

She shook my gently, waking me. I sat up, instantly, and moved off of her.

“I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have disturbed you,” she said. I closed my eyes briefly and shook my head.

“Don’t worry about it.”

She frowned and rubbed my arm before I got off of the sofa to get a drink. Like a lost puppy, she followed me into the kitchen.

“Do you want a root beer?” I asked, “One week out of the year, I seem to go through a phase of it.”

I poured myself a glass and turned to her.

“Sure,” she said.

I got out another glass and poured her some. We drank in silence standing in the kitchen, eyes averted from one another. I opened the fridge and peered inside, taking note of the baked ziti my mother had mentioned prior to her departure. I sneered and picked up a package of chuck roast I’d picked up at the grocery store earlier that day. Calpurnia looked at me, perplexed, as I examined it.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“Oh, I was going to cook this earlier, but I fell asleep,” I said, “want some?”

“No, that’s okay,” she replied.

I wrinkled my nose, shrugged, and threw the package back into the fridge before slamming the door shut. I placed my empty glass in the sink and walked back to the sofa.

“Just leave it in there,” I said, before she’d even had a chance to inquire.

I heard her place her glass beside mine before padding across the carpet to join me again. I picked up the remote and flipped channels, ultimately ending where I’d started earlier that evening. She sat down beside me and watched, silently and attentively. I looked over at her and examined her features to great and excessive detail, making note of every blemish in her skin and every red crack in seemingly flawless blue eyes. Somehow, regardless of her imperfections, I felt profoundly drawn to her. I leaned closer to her, causing her to turn and face me.

“What?” she asked.

“Oh, nothing.”

I found myself staring at her lips, sensing my own beginning to quake and tremble, aching for a taste of them. I leaned in and pressed my mouth to hers without any inhibition. She reciprocated with such an exquisite fervor that I simply could not control myself. My entire body quivered with lust and with nervousness and with delight. I pulled her onto my lap and she entangled her legs around my midsection, our lips still locked together. I allowed my hands to roam the contours of her slim, shapely frame as she ran her fingers through my hair. I could feel myself growing increasingly aroused as our foreplay continued. I pulled away from her and moved her off of me, laying her down onto the carpet below us. I lay down on top of her and continued to kiss her, furiously. She wouldn’t get a say in what I was determined to do next. I wanted her – no, I needed her, and I’d stop at nothing to have her. I unbuttoned my shirt, leaving it on, but wide open. She slid her tiny hands across my chest, raking her nails against my skin. I inhaled sharply and leaned down to kiss her again. Unfortunately, I’d been beaten to her mouth.

She started giggling, nervously, and I pulled back to find that the dog had come over and started slobbering on her face. I sighed, having lost my capacity to seduce her, and pulled away.

“Come on,” I snapped at the dog.

Calpurnia laughed and rolled around on the carpet, pushing the dog’s wet nose and tongue out of her face, playfully. I rose from the floor and grabbed one of the dog’s toys, throwing it across the room so she’d chase after it and let the girl loose. Calpurnia sat up and wiped off her face.

“Ugh! So sloppy,” she said, still giggling slightly. I took my place back on the sofa and folded my arms, scowling. She slinked across my lap and reached for me, but I moved from her grasp.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, the glee dissipating from her face.

“Nothing,” I said, stoic and cold.

She sighed and regained her proper and posed position, legs crossed, hands folded. The two of us stared blankly at the blinding box in front of us, not sharing a single word.

She began fidgeting with her thumbs and playing with her hair, and tapping her foot rapidly and repeatedly out of boredom. I looked down and watched her moving it up and down, faster, faster, faster.

“Could you stop that?” I asked.

She froze and turned to me.

“Stop what, Brian?”

“That foot. You’re, you’re tapping.”

“Oh, yes.”

She ceased at my request, but I could perceive the intense boredom in her eyes. She leaned back on the couch, stretching and arching her back. I gawked at her curved, slight frame as she did so, almost capable of counting each of her ribs one by one. She yawned, stretching her arms over her head.

“Did you want to go out at all or anything?” she asked. I shook my head.

“I’m hermitting tonight,” I replied. She smirked and shook her head.

“That’s a classic,” she remarked.

“What?”

“You, being a hermit. Don’t you want to go out and live life, Brian? I mean, what’s so great about sitting inside in front of the TV all night? It’s all you ever do. There’s a whole world waiting out there.”

I made no response, simply stared at her briefly before yawning and reclining back on the sofa. I closed my eyes and rested my head on her shoulder. She sighed heavily and massaged my scalp. I opened my eyes, groaning with pleasure and stretched myself across her lap. I gazed up at her as she continued to run her fingers through my hair. She possessed a kind of glow in her eyes that I couldn’t quite place, something warm and fervent and true reflecting my dead gray eyes. I reached a finger up and ran it across her lower lip, tracing its shape. Slowly, I ran my fingers along her jaw line and up around her cheek, resting them gently at the nape of her neck. With her free hand, she stroked mine, keeping her bright eyes locked onto my dull ones.

A violent wave of anxiety coursed through my being. I felt as though I’d burst into a panic attack within the next few seconds as a myriad of feeling took hold of me. What was this foreign and unnatural sentiment she had aroused in me? She laid her hand delicately across my forehead, caressing it momentarily, and then rested her hand upon my cheek. My entire body grew warm and placid. I closed my eyes and allowed sleep to take me. I don’t know how long I lay there, entwined in her arms, strewn across her lap, but as much as I’d never willingly admit to it, it felt divine.

I woke some time later and found her still beneath me, her pleasant eyes closed, and clearly entranced in her very own world of wonders. My cheeks began to burn as I allowed a smile to take hold of my face. I looked at the clock and realized that my mother would be on her way home from work shortly. I poked and prodded Calpurnia, stirring her from her slumber, as she’d so often done to me.

“Hey,” I said as her eyes fluttered open, now cracked and red from fatigue, “come on, you should get up.”

She produced a sleepy and disheartened grunt as she slid out from underneath me.

“I’m so tired, Brian,” she said.

“Yeah, I know, so, come on.”

She yawned and stretched, half-heartedly.

“Into your room?”

“No. No. You should go home.”

“I don’t think I can drive that far right now.”

“Well, just,” I paused, frustrated, and bit my lip, fighting the anger and the panic welling within me, “you have to go.”

She groaned and slumped back down on the sofa, closing her eyes again.

“No, get up. I mean, really, you have to go,” I said, grabbing a hold of her arm and shaking it vigorously.

“Stop,” she whined, still unmoved.

A vicious rush of panic spread through me, and it seemed as though a thick layer of ice had developed on the skin of my back. My pulse raced so high and so hard that I could hear every booming beat of my heart and feel the very organ jumping into my throat. I started to lose my breath, and the hyperventilation commenced. I sank to the floor and writhed, hugging my knees to my chest, begging the brutal ride to stop.

Calpurnia rose from her sleeping place and rushed to my aid.

“Brian! Brian! Come back to me. Come back. Look at me. Come back to me.”

She wrapped her arms around me, but I flung her off faster than I’d imagined possible.

“You make it worse,” I managed to spit out through heavy breaths, “you are the problem. Get out. Get the fuck out!”

With all of my strength, I lifted my quaking hand and pointed, with a trembling finger, to the door. She looked at me as though I were a wounded puppy.

“You aren’t well,” she insisted, “let me help you.”

“I don’t need help. You need to go.”

She reached for me and I squirmed away from her grasp.

“I’m serious,” I warned, the anger brimming from inside of me.

“Just let me put you to bed, then I’ll go.”

“I don’t need you to put me to bed. Just get out.”

She didn’t stop. She advanced on me, reaching out with her tiny, malformed hands to latch onto me in some way, in any way that she could. I couldn’t win. The panic had conquered, and all of the rationality and logic I once possessed had faded entirely. I succumbed to her aid and allowed her to assist me into my bedroom. She turned to go, but I seized her from behind and bit her hard on the neck, running my hands over her. The panic began to dissipate, but awkwardness still lingered inside of me. She shrieked and collapsed against me, melting like putty beneath my fingers. I kissed her neck violently, almost animalistic in fashion, no inhibition, no fear of hurting her, no remorse. She wailed and sank to her knees, slipping away from me. I went after her on the floor to pull her close again, to take her, but I heard the front door unlock and creak open. I froze in the middle of my stance, listening. Calpurnia opened her wide eyes and did the same.

“Brian, what’s—”

I slapped my hand across her mouth to silence her, shooting her a cautionary glance. I heard my mother drop her keys on the table by the door and pad across the carpet into the kitchen. She turned on the water for a moment, and then turned it off, again. I heard her pad further away and close her bedroom door. I waited several minutes after she’d done so before releasing my hand from Calpurnia’s mouth. I wiped it against my pants as she shook her head.

“We’re adults, you know,” she remarked.

“Thanks, I don’t think I was aware,” I snapped, “do you really want my mother to walk in to hear us fucking?”

“We weren’t, and judging by the looks of things, we wouldn’t probably have been. Your meds, Brian.”

I scoffed and opened the drawer beside my bed to procure several bottles and numerous pills from each. She handed me a bottle of water from the stack I had sitting in the corner of my room by the window.

“Here,” she said, as I took it from her, rolling my eyes.

“Oh, my God, you’re not my mother,” I snarled.

“Yeah, and thank God for that,” she shot back.

Admittedly, I found myself thoroughly impressed with her emerging backbone. I swallowed the pills, one, two, three, then downed the rest of the sizeable handful in a fourth and final swig. I put the bottle down on my nightstand and sighed, looking out the window.

“It’s snowing,” I said, opening the blinds a bit more to watch the heavy flakes fall.

Calpurnia crawled across the floor behind me and poked her head over my shoulder to take a look for herself.


“Wow, it’s really coming down,” she said, eyes widened and gazing at the sea of white just outside of us.

I sighed once more and stretched out on the carpet, closing my eyes, exhausted. I reached out for her and felt her warm, soft skin against my fingertips. I opened my eyes and gazed at her. She sat there watching the snow, entranced by it, as though she’d never seen it before. I examined her doing so, finding some kind of simple wonder in how she could appreciate the most intricate and minute details of life that most would take for granted. I stroked her forearm, breaking her gaze on the world outside and forcing her to return to the one she shared only with me. I coaxed her to lay down with me and wrapped an arm around her as she rested herself upon my chest. I stroked her hair and closed my eyes.

“Perhaps you and I really aren’t so unlike,” I said.

“What do you mean?” she asked, but I hushed her.

“Sleep,” I insisted.

She fell silent and, soon, we fell into Morpheus’s sweet embrace. The snow fell silently outside, enveloping the world and purity and life anew. And though I lay in slumber, something new and unfamiliar inside of me had awakened.