It's My Party
a short story
It’s My Party
by Ophelia Everfall
Danielle left work in a rush. She wasn’t feeling well. It had been planned for, a best night and weekend to come.
Birthdays didn’t come often, and this one was special. Danielle was going to see someone they wanted the most. They had been controlling her with their cruelest manipulation of her love; Jennifer was a devil for churning people’s minds into her pets.
Danielle knew this. Danielle loved this.
At least, she thought that.
Times past were gone to her mind. Danielle moved on quickly. She didn’t look back and believed there virtue within the notions mentally. Her body fought her every day. It wasn’t ever lacking for soreness, stiffness, or discomfort in joints which never seemed to be cozy in any position.
She needed distractions and one would be her favorite.
Her conceptualizations would love to let themselves loosen, and reset, at the hands of some other’s force bearing upon her libido, adoring nothing more than to be freed from the worry of her many anxieties. Danielle hadn’t ever been loved properly.
Running home proved a need to shower she would detest. Jennifer was going to rape her again and tonight she wasn’t going to like it. They had some sort of agreement sexually. It worked for a while, both finding it exciting and passionate, for one to hold dominance over the other proved towards release.
Danielle didn’t realize the power of Jennifer’s emotional manipulation would overrun her own will completely. They had worked her over so thoroughly though layers of blind opposition to truth, worked back towards some happy medium they wanted for, where Danielle would be paralyzed to remain Jennifer’s toy. They knew to have her heart in a perpetual state of wanting.
She didn’t realize it even, how many times her inner-will was wishing to resist. Danielle thought it her own fault. She didn’t realize Jennifer understood that part of the psychological dominance — how they were aware.
It made Jennifer feel good to twist someone against themself as thoroughly as imaginable. Danielle had taken an agreement to do it playfully with Jennifer, and then twisted her heart in knots of longing, for taking only and exactly what they wanted. Jennifer wanted to consume Danielle’s spirit into the void of darkness their own had become.
Washing down — cleaning up — getting ready for Jennifer to arrive was of great worry. Something magical was happening that had been hidden from all by Danielle’s own boldest assertions of lie. She had been waging warfare at another, someone from her past, who had tried to encroach and enflamed Jennifer to spin Danielle into the most self-betraying person of their time and place.
Jennifer was getting off on watching Johnny die.
Some boy had thought he could claim Jennifer’s property. It was a foolish thing for him to have done, for it had Jennifer punish Danielle to destroy them, and constantly, herself going into the blackness of evil as well.
They had fucked thinking about it. The two of them really got off on it for a while.
Jennifer still did. They believed they still had Danielle completely beneath their thumb. She wasn’t in whole. And Johnny was dying because of her. Jennifer had been making her to enjoy it. They were reveling in the evil, bathing in it, and Danielle had begun getting raped with it.
She had wanted to help for so long. Johnny’s whole life fell apart after they stopped being friends.
He never understood. It was because Danielle loved him for keeps. She wanted all and none of Johnny at once. She had decided to be with women, and it was her mind that told of boundaries which were right — she’d emplaced them on him for how he was male.
Johnny only ever wanted to see her again once. He wanted to give Danielle a hug and talk. She had ripped his guts out when he realized they were falling apart cruelly and wanted to readjust for holding onto their precious friendship. Johnny never even knew that Danielle loved him like he did her.
She simply wouldn’t have been able to handle it. His reflection in her life would be too brightly lit by her own heart.
When he lost his mind, he had been trying to re-connect for some time. He was getting abused by women in relationship and everything about his life had shredded to pieces while hoping Danielle might come back and just be his friend like he always hoped.
Danielle told him he had been wrong to love her and taught of destain for how he expressed when trying to be honest about feelings shared between them in need of readjustment.
Nothing Danielle had done since making that decision was of any rightness. Only with Johnny had she found that step towards paths of correctness in her life. Something about the two of them was reflective and powerfully synchronistic. They were never happier than beside each other, being exactly who they were.
Danielle was drying off. Getting dressed. And thinking about one thing.
How was she going to face Jennifer?
They didn’t ever turn it down. They only went harder on finding problems with Johnny to placate into Danielle’s mind by being blatantly wrong in ways that confused resolution. Johnny was just some obsessive, ugly, idiot boy who was full of lies.
Facts were feelings to them both. Until Johnny finally got through to Danielle.
Danielle had been feeling differently in secret.
What her and Jennifer were doing to him felt wrong on account of the way he was a traumatized, schizophrenic person that had only really been reaching out for help. The horror of that, along with Danielle’s knowing understood by Jennifer — she loved Johnny more — would be actively used by them both to fuck extra hard and cool-like. Once that stopped being fun for Danielle things changed. She was starting to realize the relationship she was in had been abusive.
That only happened when Johnny sent the text.
ROLL YOUR EYES BACK — GO TO HELL
Stretches went passed, neither too fast nor too slow, the time itself a joy of presence. Johnny just loved Danielle’s smile and the way it eked out when she knew he was looking at her. She didn’t look back at him very often, but each glance made his heart feel full.
He just wanted as much time with her as possible and didn’t care how. She was a complicated woman and it made his dreams come true to finally have a friend like her. Nobody else had ever seen how sweet Johnny was.
It was because Danielle had grown up rough, facing abusing, and choosing to take a life which would prove challenging to anyone. She was a warrior to his estimation, some hero unseen, and he knew it wouldn’t be possible to fail at forgiving her for the many ways she would constantly gouge his feelings.
Johnny liked it when people did that to him just being themselves.
Everyone was too attached by his estimation. People needed to be more free with their love and truths. He felt it some heartful gift of sacrifice to offer his love so freely to Danielle when they had both understood it wouldn’t be him.
At least, Danielle had made Johnny feel that was certain.
That would prove Johnny’s greatest mistake sometimes. He didn’t know he was being groomed. Danielle would only want someone who could run her gauntlet constructed for each uniquely. Johnny’s was impossible.
Trying to hold out for her friendship, lost in the haze of a life full of people who saw him mad for how he had become so heart stricken for a woman he hadn’t seen for a longer and longer period of time, nobody told Johnny he was schizophrenic. Many of them thought it often. They believed it was nice to lie for his feelings. All Johnny wanted was for Danielle to see him again.
Johnny knew he could trust her heart to speak the truth about what he was facing. Something inside him admitted forward, a few times, that he just needed Danielle to tell him what he already knew; he was definitely schizophrenic.
No matter how lost he got, and the way everyone came to see him as a psychopath through the disability which trapped him into trauma cycles of mental and emotional anguish, or when he’d lay alone at night on birthdays and holidays without the ability to hold back from thinking about where Danielle was and who she was with, Johnny always trusted his heart and that he would one day be okay.
He tried everywhere. High to low, far and wide, across the seas, in the cracks of his extended family tree, looking only for a single helping hand who might treat him appropriately.
When it failed. He would remember, or have a dream, and feel again what Danielle meant to him. Everything, because she could make it better, for the way he had gone. Her return would make his heart feel healed for the way he would never love the same again with his broken mind. Just a friend, or a pen pal would do, is what he always told himself.
So, he kept trying when that part of the cycle came around. He was always alone. There was lots of time to think on others for Johnny. Nobody was really thinking of him. It was okay to Johnny. Everything was really sad for a long time and he had forgiven everyone for ruining his life. Nobody forgave him though, and he knew he needed a hero.
Danielle felt like a hero always in his heart and that was something he chose to trust over again, even in delusion, often within, but very often out as well. He would think every time he cleared enough to simply say he needed help, it would work. Then he became highly suicidal and tried being honest about it. Next it was the homelessness looming, all that Danielle had made possible by abandoning their friendship and sending him into a spiral which never ended.
Johnny was depressed from the moment they stopped talking until his mind died. His mental end was a direct consequence of Danielle but he forgave her. She didn’t fully understand.
He endeavored to help her get it. For herself, and him, because Johnny knew one day Danielle would see, and remember, then want to kill herself if he hadn’t made it. He imagined her laughing at those messages, joking with others, taunting him with silence for his foolishness to presume her feelings.
Johnny had really figured out schizophrenia. He had become a great writer of fiction. Danielle has always loved a good book most. There was awareness within him that she probably didn’t want to be his friend because he had been too much her type, and it might reflect the presence of lesser people around Danielle to know him again.
If she had gotten over that enough to not let him suffer for months after consciously knowing herself wrong. If she hadn’t been about to have a birthday, again, without him even having heard a word, seeing the smiles and laughs, feeling the presence of loved ones, he might not have cursed her.
Johnny felt other people thinking about him in a focused way. He knew that but didn’t say it often because people didn’t like it.
Danielle rolled her eyes up into her head when she had orgasms, every time, and thinking about it made Johnny wonder if she kind of went brain-dead when she did. He used to think it was hot. Now he felt really bad for her about that.
Still, he knew it automatic. He knew she wouldn’t stop. Johnny knew she liked that part best. When he told her about rolling her eyes to go to hell. He knew it the worst curse ever spoken, and the best, for it would bring Danielle home.
It was pure magick.
She wouldn’t help but feel him back then on, when ejaculating with a partner or herself, mind innately drawn to what could not be forgotten.
ROLL YOUR EYES BACK - GO TO HELL
He would be laughing as she connected with him unwillingly, those core memories of trauma he created in delivering the message were with her to stay. Johnny liked to think of it as taking her lifeforce. She would be crying a lot and he knew it. Danielle would be cursed for her whole life if she didn’t get over what she had been doing, and how bad it felt that he knew, and how he forgave her. How much she loved him wasn’t seeming the chore anymore. It was only the impossibility of some situation she was undergoing which would prove to need a gentle push.
It didn’t need to be said. Danielle had read his writing.
Jennifer was getting into a car accident soon and Danielle would lose her legs if she was with them. He was really smart with feeling things in time. Also, if he died, her orgasms would literally take her to the hell of what she’d done for the rest of her life.
Johnny hoped that was enough motivation.
Jennifer was going hard on Danielle. Her friends were coming soon.
Each thrust took her away. She needed the release. It was everything to her. Those many little deaths would add up to peace one day, she swore.
There wasn’t really a Jennifer.
Danielle was of two and one at once. She had a demon inside which controlled her. Long had she been in belief of a life debt curse to this spirit. Danielle had always believed her soul in their possession.
It was her unconscious but that would not be understood.
Not until that one more time, when it happened. She had been using her favorite toy, forcing herself not to think of Johnny, and trying so hard not to pull back her eyes for the release she sought.
I can just do it this way. I don’t have to do that.
When she ejaculated without rolling her eyes back, she saw, and everything, it all came back, each time. It was all Danielle had betrayed for pleasure, the self she’d been which never was, her demon steed that drove her a force of unwitnessed and hated for all she’d ever done since; since she was an ultimate victim of society which everyone, each last person, until Johnny, had made to feel as if that was her own fault.
From the moment her rapes happened it was told of as a lie by all.
Those men deserved to die and people blamed Danielle.
Truths of the body would speak, whisper and shout, the way Danielle held them down kept everything out. Naughtiest thoughts were seen as her sin, nothing felt good when people would win, everything left had been of a tale, that weekend she spent—her life’s great regale.
Danielle missed Johnny a lot. Nobody else had been blocked out like him before. Even those men who raped her had some place for conversation with Danielle. Her subconscious was making her kill her own heart. It was working until she finally accepted it, forgave herself, and saved the one person who treated her properly.
Danielle’s rapes had not been her fault. Not ever. Not one. Not for one moment. And all of those men should have been killed by her father.
Somebody had finally done it.
Danielle knew it was the thing that would tear her in two. One of her friends had made a joke about Johnny. They called him a name she had many times.
She was realizing it then. Everything around her was a lie. She had been running from an ultimate sin for years.
Johnny needed her help. He needed a hug. Nobody had ever deserved anything more. But she was about to go get raped by Danielle all weekend in a cabin, by her friend Carla. They were the worst about Johnny.
It was like Carla knew they were an ingenious writer, did the math on Danielle’s obsession with being cruel to herself about him, and let the insecurity turn her into a complete idiot. Carla thought she was smarter, and that had never been true. Johnny’s proving it would break Carla into a dog.
She would crash her own car with Danielle in it or not. She knew they would leave her after the weekend.
They both read Johnny’s story before they were to leave.
Ophelia Everfall’s story.
Daphne’s story.
