Cassie Frugelli Wants To Go Far, Far Away

Cassie Frugelli Wants To Go Far, Far Away
by,
William Morgan

The fine hairs on her arms seemed sentient for they hated, and punished her. They felt like white hot needles stabbed viciously into deep tissue. The sweat poured out of her, a torrent of foul smelling contempt. In her mind her body was attempting to dehydrate her. Her stomach gurgled with rage, and spasmed wave, after wave of nausea. She felt hot, cold, hot, cold, body temperature going haywire. Out of control. The sickness made her kneel, made her bow to the god of the away powder. If it didn’t get worship, it punished severely.

If she didn’t get a hit soon…

She remembered the party all those years ago. Well, some of it. She had gotten pretty drunk. Tina, who had just turned eighteen and now was eligible to die in a land she didn’t give a shit about, invited just about all of Lorain county. So many people. All young. All full of energy. All not expecting to die anytime soon. Many drinking their livers into submission. Some snorting coke, some smoking crack, some injecting the far away powder.

Tina’s boyfriend, one of three actually, Brian was his name, she couldn’t remember his last name, all she could remember was that he was a leather boy. A metal head. Banging his head, mainlining to Iron Maiden. Glazed eyes, slack mouth, drool. Far away somewhere. Far away with not a care in the world. Want a try? asked Tina. C’mon, Cassie, try it. See where it takes you.

Back then she was Cassie Frugelli, 17, a fresh faced, gullible, beguiled, drunk girl with an unbroken hymen. If she wasn’t so drunk…, so pliable…, so fucking stupid. When Brian came back from heavy metal heaven, him, Tina, and, Cassie had sneaked off to the attic, the only place where there were no other bodies. Tina, damn her, had found the vein while Brian, damn him, had gotten the far away powder, spoon, and lighter ready. Tina gently held Cassie’s head in her lap and caressed Cassies’s long brunette hair. Cassie distinctly remembered Tina smelt of blood. Tina cooed, and whispered sweet lies in her ear as Brian injected liquid nirvana.

That feeling! That indescribable feeling was something she had never experienced before, or since. The high was so euphoric, so godly for she had left her earthly body, traveled the universe, alone, but, not lonely, floating in between the stars, flying through deep, deep space, impenetrable blackness, the vastness, the nothingness, a vision to behold, a wonder, she sees 5 lanes, roads of the future, her futures, all possible, the universe letting her decide, choose her life ahead and it was all hers, all Cassie’s, her body alive, alive, alive, aware of every inch, every molecule, every atom, her skin tight, pores open wide, black sludge oozing, cleansing, releasing every toxic thought, poisonous dream, noxious nightmare, her organs working in perfect synchronicity, her sex afire, dripping, swollen, wanting release, her mind filling with all the data of the world, the galaxy, the universe, open to a whirlwind of all the true meanings of life, knowing the reason she was here in the universe, she spreads her arms, tries to hug the world, love the world, love everyone, I love you, love you, I love you all, look at the universe, see how perfect, how mathematical, how-, then she was harshly brought back to reality, and found herself laying on her back, the musty mattress spotted with blood, her hymen no longer unbroken, and through dull eyes sees Brian wiping his cock on her panties, smiling, Scorpions’ Another Piece Of Meat playing in the background.

Now, 20 years later, she still thinks back to that first high, that amazing vision, tasting the universe, experiencing all of creation. When she told Tina, and Brian, (after screaming, and running to the bathroom to cry, and lament, and rage, and finally to clean), of her experience, Brian had laughed, looked puzzled. Wasn’t LSD, darlin’. Don’t know what happened to you. Maybe a little crazy? She crazy, Tina? Loopey? Get dropped on your head?

Tina had tried, unsuccessfully, to wrap her arms around Cassie. Sorry, Cass, I’m on my period. Otherwise. Y’know.

Like she was excusing rape. Like it was okay. She was just a back up fuck thing. No worries. The horror of the realization that Tina was a monster, scared Cassie even more than the defilement by Brian. Tina wasn’t even embarrassed, or felt any shame. She thought Brian did nothing wrong. It enraged Cassie enough to slap Tina hard. Tina stepped back, shocked. Brian pushed Cassie back. What the hell, cunt? Cassie kicked him as hard as she could between his legs, smiling as he doubled over, his eyes crossed, his face a comical farce of pursed lips, blown out cheeks, knotted eyebrows. Brian groaned, then yelled as she kicked him in the face. Bitch! Here came Tina, claws out, lips curled. Fucking bitch! Cassie stood her ground, waited until Tina got close enough, then, with her own claws, she made trenches, and grooves, scratching deep, scarring, blood pooling, Tina screeching, Cassie laughing, Brian sobbing. She left, making sure she grabbed Brian’s far away powder, and kit, then walked home. Sad, angry, ashamed. When she got home, she showered, scrubbed, cried, scrubbed, raged, scrubbed, until the water became too cold to bear, until she had the cleanest vagina in the world. Violated, yet spotless.

The withdrawal was something horrifying. Fire, Ice, Pain, Misery. She thought she was going to die. Wanted to die. The far away soothed, comforted, relaxed. She always had a thrill of anticipation before she plunged in the far away, hoping for a repeat of the the first one. It never came. She wondered if it was a mixture of the alcohol, and drug, but she could never remember what she drank. There was so much beer, and hard liquor at the party. She remembered vodka, rum, Bud, Miller, Jack, moonshine, even. She tried drinking before injecting, various mixtures of beer, and liquor, but, there were so many combinations, so many variables, it just made her more miserable after, made the pain more intense, the depression darker. She tried, and tried, but, she never had the vision again. Just a high, just a normal fucking high. She did go somewhere, but, it was like going on vacation to Gettysburg, or Niagara Falls. Everyone did that. It was nothing special. Bland, vanilla, been there, done that. Still, she needed the far away. The punishment was too much to bear without it. Life was nothing without it. She would do things for it. Degrade herself. Whore herself. Steal. Rape Peter to pay Paul. Her body was a temple for the far away. Those movies. They are out there. She thinks of them a lot. Has any of her family seen them? Her Mother, Brothers, Billy, and Jim? She thanks God every night that her Father died before she ran out of money, out of hope, out of far away. That’s one burden she doesn’t have to carry.

Now here she was, with another creep, damning herself to go far away.

Cassie watched the creep. Studied him. His excitement unnerved her. His anticipation shocked her. He smelt of garlic, rosemary, and fear. His tall, thin frame shook, his gray eyes were shining, the lips wet from constant licking. He looked so ordinary, so human. He could be a neighbor, a co-worker, a fast food manager.

“Money up front, alright?”

He took out his wallet. It looked ordinary, as well. Not made of human skin. He took out a wad of notes.

“A thousand? Yes? That’s what we agreed on.” He didn’t look her in the eyes.

His profile stated he lived in California. That’s a long way to travel to Ohio. Then again, it was the internet. A liar’s domain. Full of small, weak men typing their impotent rage in ALL CAPS.

She counted slowly, making sure it all was there, and none of it was funny. Plus she was putting off what was agreed on.

Was there another way?

She wished. She prayed every night. Got on her knees, implored, begged, beseeched God for help, for assistance.

Assistance. Ha! What a joke! Couldn’t get that from welfare. Basically told her to go fuck herself. Her family had disowned her. Her husband had divorced her. Didn’t they realize that she needed the money? Couldn’t they show a little compassion? She hated stealing from them. Hated it. But, she had no choice.

No choice. Well, there was one, but that involved a lot of pain, and sickness, and strength. She knew she was weak, hell, she was born weak. Weak of mind, of self, of spirit. No. There was no choice.

She sighed.

“Ready?”

The man hesitated for a sec, then undid his belt, unbuttoned his pants, dropped them to his black, shiny shoes, took them off. Next came his underwear. He kept his shirt and tie on.

His penis was rock hard, the glans glistening.

“I’m ready.”

“I can see that.” A lame joke got a lame smile.

“Over here.” She walked him to the corner of the bedroom.

Oh, God, oh, God, where are you?

Eyes brimming with tears, hands shaking with shame, she reached down into the second hand blue crib, and undid her little boys diaper, exposed him, avoiding his year old baby blues, trying to block out his laughter. He wasn’t wet.

“No touching,” she said, firmly.

“No, no, I won’t. I swear.”

“Because if you do…” Showed him the baseball bat.

His hands came up. “Swear to Christ. I won’t, I won’t.”

She stepped back.

“Get it over with.”

The man looked into the crib, and began to stroke himself.

When he was finished, he asked if he could use the bathroom to clean himself up. He apologized for the carpet. His face was red. From the act, or shame, she couldn’t tell.

He stopped at the door, kept his back to her, said, “you could make more if you-”

“No. Never. Understand?”

He nodded, went into the bathroom. Shut the door. She heard the water running.

She quickly fixed her boy’s diaper. Wiped her tears off his little face. So sorry. So sorry. So sorry.

She looked at the money. Imagined the escape, the bliss. Need to get to Nick’s, get some bliss, some far away. Far, far away powder. How much can I buy with this? How much will I need? How pure? Far away and lax do not mix. Shitting the dream is not what I want. I want my universe, I want that vision. It was so pure. One more time, then I’ll quit. Swear. On my father’s-no-don’t-don’t-

She wondered fleetingly whether she even had a soul anymore.

The man came out of the bathroom, nodded, put on his underwear, pants, coat, and hat. “I have friends. Lots of friends. We could set up a timetable of sorts. On your time, of course. Lots of money to be made. I could help weed out the, ah, more aggressive types. No fee, maybe a discount. You have my private number. I suggest you get a landline. I can help you secure it. You won’t want for anything. Until he gets too old, of course. Just let me know.”

She couldn’t speak, because she knew she’d just scream. She nodded instead.

“Goodbye, then.”

She waved, then he left.

Then she looked down at her little boy again and questioned if she ever loved him at all for there was a tiny voice speaking behind her collapsed soul, a voice that desired, demanded the far, far away powder, uncut, pure, euphoric, a voice horrific in it’s insistence, chilling in it’s influence, frightening for she was listening, that chanted over, and over, and over. Never say never.

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