Dim “Friend” Zohn: An episode


She skipped over the tall, wet weeds and trash along the walkway and guided me to the side of the bar. Pressed against the aluminum siding, my back could feel the ridges. I landed with a thud, for the first time not excited to be there. Her look was direct and her breath was marijuana and Burt’s Beeswax with a sour touch of jungle juice.

“I know it’s what you want, Dim,” her small hands gripping my shirt pocket.

I couldn’t do much but listen to the muffled music coming from the bar speakers. I desired her for so long, but now… I looked beyond her ponytail, past the white florescent light of the convenient store on the corner. I felt helpless, lost. In my hand, half a bottle of beer. In her’s, my pocket still gripped tight. I tried to pull away but the aluminum only dug into my shoulder blades.

“Kiss me.” she leaned in forcing her lips to mine.

Warm beer accidentally splashed her top while my hands jumped up causing space.

“Magda, no. I don’t want you,” is all I could choke out. My emotions were fireworks inside my canister of a chest. Where a warm heart once was for her, only a cold thin shell. At least, that’s what I wanted it to be. I didn’t know if I could contain the love, the arousal. She leaned in again, this time touching the front of my pants.

“I can give you what you want. I already have, I know you enjoyed me- all of me.” Magda was inches from my face with her lips barely skimming my cheek.

“Not anymore. Get off me. Get away.  It’s done.” The knot in my throat so tight I sucked down the piss warm beer grateful to not have spilled it all.

“You’re an asshole. You know that. You can’t just screw people and act like there’s nothing there.” Her direct look was more of a scorn than a desire now. Was she finally understanding?

“I’m not an asshole. You knew what it was when we started this whole thing. I thought we could leave feelings out of it. You said you wanted that.” She was shaking her head.

“Guess I was wrong…” Magda yanked my beer away and swallowed back the rest of it.

“Say it,” she screamed while poking the bottle into my chest, “say you want me. I know you do otherwise why else would you be hard right now?”

She was right. Her other hand never left my pants while I was trying my damnest to get her out of my head and away from me I couldn’t stop my feelings. The same damn feelings that we swore against.

“I’m fucking scared, ok!” I couldn’t believe I said it. It was true.

“Oh please, scared? Of what?” she said.

My jaw could’ve slammed to the floor. I replied, “You don’t think he was serious? He’s going to freaking kill me!” my voice a shudder.

“Dim, stop it. No he won’t, he can’t. He’s put away.” Magda was wrong.

“People following me is just a hallucination? My apartment getting broken into is an exaggeration?”

“No, it’s not, but-”

“But nothing, Magda. He’s probably got some damn goon watching us now.”

She was still holding the beer bottle. Slowly she began licking the tip of it.

“Dim,” she whispered, “stop worrying. No one’s watching us.”

The cold night air made me feel like she was more wrong than she could imagine. I looked around to see if anyone had followed us out from the house. The only cars on the street were parked and off, except one. It was an old Buick, brown or black-ish grey. I couldn’t make it out. Fog lights dimming the curb along side it but one seemed to flicker, almost like it was warning me. But had it always been there, I wondered? I didn’t notice it when we first came out.

“Magda, maybe we should go inside. Get off me.”

I grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand from my pants.

“No, Dim. I want to, let me just…” she held out the glass bottle, opened her mouth and mimicked fellatio. I cracked a smile.

“Stop goofing, seriously.” My eyes bounced from her lips and tongue on the bottle to the Buick.

She held my wrists up next to my head, glass bottle still clenched and began kissing my neck. My eyes shifted left toward the Buick, then straight at Magda and we kissed, God how we kissed. Then left again at the Buick.

“See, it’s not so bad is it. Stop worrying. We can go back to your pla  

A flash and pop came from the car.

Crashing next to my head were brown shards of the beer bottle. A ringing in my left ear, Magda screaming, car tires screeching, and a deafening pulse sound with a slow leaking tickle streaking down the left side of my face. Next thing I know the Buick pulled up in front of the house, doors were slamming closed, a punch to my stomach, and Magda’s scream stifled to a moan as two figures in black clothes and ski masks threw her into the backseat. A third stood above me and continued kicks to my body.

As everything went black, the slow bump of music from the bar continued as an engine roared and the Buick zoomed away.


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