Contempt of a Great Man (Part 3)

The hours following that fateful drink, are just a blur to me. I cannot remember what I did, said, or heard. The moment I can remember and undoubtedly never forget is being woken up the next morning by a prodding foot. The foot belonged to a fully dressed John, a steep contrast from me at that moment.

“Get up,” he scowled as he kept nudging my body with his foot, “I have to leave in fifteen minutes and you can’t stay here.”

I slowly got out of the bed and found my clothes lying on a chair a few feet away. I couldn’t speak a word, nor could I look at John. My whole body hurt and I had difficulty keeping my balance. John kept nagging me to hurry up and pushing me towards the door.

John grasped my wrist and led me down a long hallway. I could tell that we were still in my cousin’s apartment complex by the mesmerizing yellow color of the walls. I looked back at John’s apartment and saw a giant yellow lion imprinted on the door. It looked similar to the lions I noticed on the other doors except that this lion was ten times as large and had fierce red eyes.

John pulled my arm and I turned around to see a huge man standing in front of me. The man must have been seven feet tall and weighed at least three hundred pounds. He had very tan skin and a completely bald head. He was wearing khaki pants and a black collared shirt. The most distinguishable quality of this man was a deep scar running from his left ear to the crease of his mouth.

“Listen,” John said as he clutched my jaw and turned my head towards him, “you can tell whoever you want about what you think happened last night, but the fact of the matter is, no one will believe you. You are just a foolish girl and I am a great man. Whatever you may say will never disgrace the name John Holden.”

He turned around and I noticed that we were at an elevator. He gingerly pushed the down-pointed arrow and looked back at me.

“Now, listen very carefully,” he told me as he reached into his pocket to pull out a gold watch, “my friend Steven and I are going to take the elevator down to the lobby. You are going to wait here until the elevator panel says “1”. When you see that, you will then push the down button and wait for the elevator. You will go down to the lobby and then out the big doors in which you came through last night. From that point on, do whatever you wish to do, whether it’s writing a bestselling book about your romantic exploits with the great John Holden or throwing yourself in front of a bus.”

He smiled as he stepped into the elevator with the large man closely behind. The large man pushed a button and stepped back behind John. John put the gold watch on his wrist and checked the time.

“Do you do this often?” I asked as I looked down at my feet.

John chuckled and replied, “Yes, so don’t think you’re anything special.”

As soon as I heard the elevator doors close, I sunk to my knees and began to sob. All the emotion that I didn’t dare to express while in the presence of John, suddenly rushed out. I didn’t know how to deal with such an ordeal as I was going through. I wanted revenge, yet I was terrified of what would happen if I even attempted to harm John. His “friend” Steven could kill me just by sitting on me. I didn’t dare to think what he could do if he had an actual weapon.

I remembered John’s orders and looked up at the elevator panel. The elevator panel showed the number two. I stood up and kept looking at the panel. When it finally showed one, I slowly pushed the down button. I watched the elevator panel change from one to two to three and continue until it showed twelve. The doors opened and I cautiously stepped into the elevator.

I looked down the hallway towards John’s apartment. As I glared, I began to get angrier and I could feel my blood boiling inside of me and my heart pounding against my chest. I suddenly couldn’t contain myself and I let out a loud scream. The scream let out all the rage I had inside me that I could not say in words. I wanted to destroy John and make everything he had seem like nothing. I wanted for him to remember me as the woman who turned the name John Holden from a hero’s to a villain’s. John took something I could never regain back and for that, I wanted revenge.

I looked at the elevator floor numbers and I tentatively pressed the number one button. I stood in the elevator and contemplated what I should do next. I didn’t have any really good friends who I completely trusted. The last thing I wanted was for John to get any pleasure out of hearing me talking about him. I didn’t know John well, but I knew that he loved hearing about how great he was. I knew that I needed to tell someone who wouldn’t tell anyone else. The only person who I had ever completely trusted was my cousin. I realized it was risky to tell someone who was seemingly friends with John, but my cousin was all I had.

I looked at the elevator numbers again and quickly pushed the number eight. The elevator suddenly halted and the doors opened. I hastily stepped out of the elevator and tried desperately to remember my cousin’s apartment number. I remembered that his door was between two doors that were marked with a little lion. I took a guess and began knocking on an apartment door.

I must have been knocking hard because my cousin opened the door with a worried look on his face. When he saw me, his expression became even more worried. At that point, I could have only guessed the sorry shape I was in. If I looked half as bad as I felt, I would have scared even the bravest of children.

“Meg,” he stammered as he looked me up and down, “what happen to you? Have you been crying?”

I attempted to speak, but all I could do was open my mouth and sigh. My cousin cocked his head and hugged me as I began to cry again. For that moment, I felt like I was back in Iowa, safe and away from John Holden.

“Come on,” he said after a few minutes, “let’s go inside.”

He put his arm around my shoulders and led me into his apartment. Once inside, he led me to his couch and I slowly sat down.

“Are you ok?” he asked as I stared off into space, “Do you need to lie down?”

“No,” I stuttered noticing that my throat had become severely dry, “Can I have some water?”

He nodded and ran to the kitchen. I heard the water running and realized that I had to use the restroom. I stood up from the couch and walked towards a door that I assumed was the bathroom.

Behind the door was my cousin’s office. The office had a computer, a desk, and two chairs (one facing me and the other facing the desk). The room was nothing extraordinary; it was just an average office. However, sitting in the chair facing me was John Holden, with a sly smile still implanted on his face.



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