The Forlorn Lovers

After taking a deep breath, she walked over to the side of the building, where the stranger was still searching for food in the trashcan. He hadn't noticed her, but even with his face hidden under matted hair, she knew it was him. It wasn't until he began coughing into his hand and leaving splatters of blood on his palm that she was sure.

"It really is you."

Carter turned to her and his eyes widened at the sight of her beautiful face, the face that had been haunting him for days. Her beauty brought waves of relief to his cold soul, like sunlight after weeks of a cloudy weather, but so too did the sight and existence of this woman fill him with more pain than he could endure. He staggered back, coughing into his hand with his eyes projecting his agony, just like last time. The man who had just gone on a killing spree looked no more dangerous than a warzone orphan. Eleanor's fear of him was gone, replaced by sympathy, regardless of what she had seen him do.

"No, wait!" Eleanor called out as he turned around and ran into the woods.

Desperate for answers, she chased after him, sprinting through the forest. Carter's steps were clumsy and erratic as he tried to run and bloody cough was making it next to impossible to breath. Even with this handicap, he managed to elude his pursuer. Soon alone, Carter fell to his knees, coughing up so much blood that a crimson puddle was forming beneath his face.

"Why... Why? Why! WHY!" he snarled, slamming his fists on the ground.

'Kill her...' a voice whispered.

"No, shut up."

'She is no different than the others, no less guilty.'

"I said shut up!"

'She must die,' a third yelled, so loudly that Carter winced.

With his hands over his ears, he looked up at the sky. "LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Eleanor was finally forced to stop and catch her breath, swearing in frustration. She was so close to figuring out who the killer was and why he spared her life, but now he was gone. Reluctantly, she turned around to walk back to her car. After only a few steps, she heard his voice call out like an animal stepping into a bear trap. As his tormented voice echoed through the forest, Eleanor followed the noise and finally found him, but kept her distance.

Carter was on his knees in a small clearing, gripping his head as if his scalp was on fire. With the agony in his voice and how loud he was shouting, it seemed like that's what he was really experiencing.

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP AND LEAVE ME ALONE!" he howled, clawing at his ears while tears poured from his eyes.

Eleanor was breathless, finally being able to see the pain that the man she had been obsessing over was dealing with. He wasn't evil, just sick and in agony.

"BE QUIET! I DON'T WANT TO SUFFER ANYMORE, JUST LET ME BE IN PEACE!"

He then ran over to the nearest tree and began slamming his head against it, trying to beat the voices into submission, but only leaving a bloody gash on his forehead. Carter finally fell to the ground, his face wet with blood and tears. Eleanor stepped into the clearing and walked over to him, no longer feeling any fear. She crouched down and placed her hand on his cheek, causing his eyes to bolt open and him to stare at her.

"Who are you?" she whispered.

Carter did not reply, but his whole body was trembling.

"Who are you? I have to know!"

When Carter didn't say anything, tears began to fall from her own eyes and pelt his face, just like when his blood pelted hers.

"I saw what you did, I saw all the people you killed. I want to be afraid of you, I want to hate you, and I want to see you as the monster that has murdered so many innocent people. But whenever I think of you, in my heart, I want to help you. Please, I have to know why I am feeling this way."

"I don't know. I don't want you to hate me, but I don't want you to be kind, either. I don't deserve anything from you. Just forget about me."

"Why did you spare my life?"

"I couldn't bear to hurt you."

"But why? Why me? Why couldn't you just end my life? Why couldn't you just kill me so that I wouldn't have to be alone anymore?" she begged, unable to maintain her composure.

Carter and Eleanor stared at each other, both trying to think of something to say. Carter's heart ached to hear her say those words and Eleanor couldn't believe how honest she was being with a total stranger.

"I don't know what you have experienced, but it seems like you have been through pain as well," Carter said.

"I just don't know what to do to be happy. I don't want to be miserable anymore, but I don't know anything else."

Carter slowly reached up and placed his trembling hand on her cheek, just as she had her hand on his.

"What's your name? I'm Eleanor."

"Carter."

For the first time in a long time, she smiled. He was about to smile as well, but his bloody coughing returned.

"Let me take you to the hospital, a doctor should look at that cough."

"I already know my disease and there is no cure for what I have."

"Do you know how long you have?"

"A month, maybe more, maybe less. But that is only how I feel. For all I know, this cough could just be a minor inconvenience and I could live a long and full lifetime."

"Well how do you plan on spending that time?"

"By killing."

Eleanor lost her smile. "Why? Why do you have to kill?"

"For vengeance, for punishment."

"But the people you killed at that party have done nothing to you."

"They are all guilty, but not for any crimes against me."

"But you don't need to kill. I know your mind is sick, but if you can get the right medicine, you won't be tormented by those voices anymore. You don't have to live and die this way."

"Yes I do, it is my only path."

"You say your only path is one that you kill, but you didn't kill me. Tell me, why did you spare my life?" Carter was silent and could not meet her gaze. "If I can help you so that you no longer need to kill, will you answer my question?"

"No."

"Are you saying that because you want to continue killing or because you can't imagine your fate as anything different?" Again, Carter did not respond. "Please, let me help you."

"I don't deserve help. I don't deserve kindness or happiness, I only deserve pain, and that is all my life is and will be."

"Let me show you different. Please, for me."

Carter looked back into her eyes, trying to come up with an argument so that he could resume his miserable existence the way it was.

"For you."

"We'll spend the night here," Eleanor said as she unlocked the door of the motel room.

Carter was silent and had an unsure look on his face. They stepped inside and turned on the lights, looking around the subpar room. The motel dwelling was pretty standard, and could actually be considered comfortable (as long as you ignored all of the nearly invisible stains and germs).

"Where would you normally sleep?" Eleanor asked, noting that Carter almost seemed lost in the motel room.

"Anywhere warm enough to stay alive."

"What do you mean 'enough to say alive'?"

Carter crouched down and pressed down on the bed with his hand. "I would look for a place that would at least keep me alive, but I would do everything I could to avoid being comfortable."

"Why didn't you want to be comfortable?"

"Because I don't deserve it."

"Well what did you eat?"

Carter finally looked at her. "Anything I could find, but only enough to keep me alive. I don't deserve to be healthy. This body is worthless; it serves no purpose other than to take people's lives and fill my own life with agony. If I bleed, I let it stop on its own. If I'm cold, I just ignore it and keep moving. If I'm hungry, I find whatever is even slightly edible and eat just enough to keep me from starving."

"You're punishing yourself."

"It's what I deserve."

"No, it's not. You're sick, mentally and physically. I don't know why you kill, but you don't need to do it. If you can get the help you need, then you will no longer be a danger to society. You should be in a hospital, not a prison and certainly not in the woods. You spared my life, so now I want to save yours."

"There is no peace for me, I can never be happy or content. Why on Earth would someone like you want to help someone like me? How do you expect me to believe that you won't call the police are haven't already?"

"Give me the chance to show you that there is still hope. I don't believe you are a monster, just someone with a broken heart and an unstable mind. I won't hand you over to the police, not until I'm sure I can help you first. Right now, I think getting cleaned up will do you the most good right now."

Carter still couldn't believe what was happening. For weeks, his mind had been occupied solely by pain and misery. Now, this beautiful woman was being more kind to him than he thought possible. He looked around the motel room, almost expecting it to shatter as nothing but a dream and to wake up in a ditch. Barely aware of what he was doing, Carter began limping to the bathroom, but Eleanor stopped him. She stepped behind him and removed his coat.

"Thank you," he murmured, confused by her actions.

Once Carter stepped into the bathroom, Eleanor set the dirty overcoat down on one of the chairs. As it left her hand, his handmade sword fell out of the mediocre sheath hidden inside, bouncing on the shag carpet. Eleanor froze as she gazed at the weapon, still covered in blood. She slowly crouched down and picked up the blade, holding it with shaky hands.

As she examined the blade, she could hear Carter in the shower. The single-edged sword was by no means master-crafted. It seemed more like a strip of heavy metal that had just been beaten into a sword form using rocks and a trashcan fire. Like Carter's lifestyle, the blade offered no comfort to the user. The thin fabric handle did not protect the user from the rough edges of the metal. It only served to keep the sword from falling out of the user's hand. Eleanor couldn't imagine using it without her hand being torn up.

In the bathroom, Carter was scrubbing off so much blood and grime that the water on the shower floor was dark brown. In all honesty, he was only using the shower because Eleanor suggested it. Now that he finally had the opportunity, he had to admit that he welcomed the relief. Once all the dirt that could be removed without a hammer and chisel was washed off, Carter put down the bar of soap (which was now half its original size and looked like a chiseled brick), stepped out of the shower, and looked down at the sink counter, where a small personal hygiene set had been laid out by the motel staff.

While the motel was maybe only one star (at most), the complimentary gifts were surprisingly thorough. There was a set of shaving razors, a small can of shaving cream, two packaged toothbrushes, a small tube of toothpaste, tampons, cologne, deodorant, and just about anything else that someone spending the night would need. Someone at this motel was definitely taking their pride in their work.

He picked up the razor, once again only doing it because Eleanor suggested it. Ever since they had first spoken, something within him became loyally bound to her, like an old hunting dog following its owner.

As the sound of the door handle shaking rang through the motel room, Eleanor stashed the sword back in the sheath in Carter's overcoat. Carter stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. The man and woman stared at each other and each gained a very small but very warm smile. Today was the first day either of them had smiled in a very long time. With his hair combed back and his face shaved, Eleanor had to admit that Carter was much more handsome than before. By taking a shower, Carter felt like his senses had been cleaned as well as his body. His hearing was much sharper, his eyesight didn't blur everything he saw (something that had happened without him even noticing), and with it, his view of Eleanor had been enhanced. She was even more beautiful than before, with every facial feature clearer than glass. Radiant was an understatement. But soon, Carter's smile faded.

"For your sake, I should get going. Your life would be better if I wasn't around."

"Please, don't go."

"Why... Why are you trying to help me? Why are you being so kind to me? Why in the world would you care about someone like me?" he asked, taking a few steps towards her.

"Because you need help, you need someone to be kind to you," she said softly, taking a few steps towards him.

"But why you? Why don't you just hand me off to the police? Why is it so important that you are the one to help me?"

They were standing less than a foot apart. Carter's face was stricken with sadness and Eleanor was silent as she tried to come up with a response. Finally, she reached up and placed her hand on Carter's cheek. "Because maybe you can help me."

Just as Carter was about to respond, he began coughing uncontrollably, falling to his knees and trying to keep blood from splattering on Eleanor. Eleanor crouched down, and before she knew what she was doing, she had her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Once Carter finally stopped coughing, Eleanor smelled the air and smiled. "Thanks for brushing your teeth," she said, almost making Carter laugh.

A sudden knock on the door sent him sprawling back to the bathroom, fearing the police. "Don't worry, I just ordered takeout!" Eleanor said, trying to calm him down.

As she paid for the food with the door only half open, Carter kept his eyes focused on his coat on the nearby chair, trying to figure out how quickly he could grab his sword if he needed it. He gave a sigh of relief when a bag of Chinese takeout came into view.

"Don't worry, you're safe with me. I won't just hand you over to the police." Carter gained a sad smile as she set the food down on the table. "I'm not sure what you like, so I just got a lot of simple stuff."

"Don't worry, you can have it all. I ate yesterday, so I don't need anything for today."

Eleanor lost her smile. "Please, Carter, eat with me. You can eat more than just the absolute minimum. Just this once, try and be happy instead of torturing yourself."

They both sat down at the table and began eating. Before he even knew what he was doing, Carter was devouring every last bit of food he could get his hands on. For the first time in her life, Eleanor was struggling not to laugh as she watched him become a human garbage disposal. She was almost afraid to reach out past her own food on the chance that she could lose her hand. She had to match his speed so that he wouldn't take all the food for himself. After twenty minutes, Carter and Eleanor both sat back and sighed in bliss, holding their full stomachs.

"You know, I can't remember the last time I ate with someone like this; enjoying a mean with someone," Eleanor said with a sad smile.

"What do you mean?"

The bright mood was dampened.

"My parents never cared about me, they never gave me anything. When they weren't screaming at each other, they were completely ignoring me. I was always terrified that my father would molest me or my mother would beat me. I learned early on to make my own meals and avoid them. Outside of my house, I was always too scared to make friends, but I was so lonely that I was actually physically sick from my depression. I can't even remember ever having a real conversation with anyone at school.

When I first came to college, I met Anna. She personally assigned herself the position of my life-coach. She is probably the only friend I've ever had, but I was too scared to leave my dorm room, and she often had to drag me out to help me develop social skills. My whole life, I've been lonely, but too scared to go out and talk to people. I guess I'm lucky to have Anna to pull me out of my shell."

Several silent moments passed by.

"I used to know someone like that," Carter said softly.

Carter was in the bathroom, washing his clothes in the sink and hanging them up on the shower curtain rod to dry. He set up the hairdryer with them, blowing on full blast. They would be dry enough for him to sleep in after just an hour. However, he wasn't sure where he was going to sleep, and he wasn't the only one wondering,

"Ok... Ok, thank you," Eleanor nervously said, putting down the motel phone.

She was sitting on the bed and had just been talking to the motel manager, asking if an extra cot could be sent to her room for Carter to use. Unfortunately, there weren't any. Carter stepped out of the bathroom and Eleanor spun around. From just looking into her eyes for a single moment, Carter knew what she was thinking.

"My clothes should be dry in about an hour, then I can just sleep outside. I'm used to sleeping on the ground, I'll be fine," he said, trying to avoid her gaze.

"You don't have to sleep outside, don't feel like you have to punish yourself. Besides, I want to keep you close by."

"All right, I'll just sleep on the floor."

"Carter..."

He looked up and stared into her eyes.

"The bed is big enough for us to share," she said nervously, placing her hand on the other side of the mattress.

"Why are you so unafraid of me? Why are you willing to be so close and open with me? You're saying that you're ok with sharing a bed with me. Eleanor, I'm a total stranger to you, I'm a stranger that has killed more people than I can even count. Why are you so desperate to help me?"

Eleanor looked away, trying to come up with an answer. In all honesty, she had no idea why she was acting this way. She had never been this friendly, this open, and this charitable with anyone in her entire life.

"I'll only answer your question if you answer mine first: Why do you kill? Why are you so desperate to punish innocent people and punish yourself? I know you're sick, probably schizophrenic, but there has to be more."

"The answer to that question ties into why I spared your life," Carter said, making Eleanor's eyes widen. He sat down on the bed and turned to her. "I was put into foster care the second I was born, cast aside by parents who wanted nothing to do with me. Both my body and my mind have always been a train wreck. I was often bedridden, swallowing pills to help deal with each new health condition and my dementia. I don't have schizophrenia. That doesn't manifest until adolescence. I'd heard these voices since I was born. Throughout my life, I received barely any attention or help as I suffered from my diseases. The voices in my mind were so intense that I did not have the will to disobey them, making people hate me for the things I did. I was adopted countless times, but no idealist couple with the dreams of rescuing an orphan could withstand the results of my insanity and the crimes that the voices made me commit, not to mention my constant medical bills were a deal-breaker alone.

Halfway through high school, when I was at the peak of my suicidal desires, I fell in love with a beautiful and sweet girl. Her name was Claire, and she alone was able to make the voices in my head be silent, when all medication and therapy had failed. We were so in love; she was my whole reason for living and the keystone for any sanity I could achieve, and she saw herself as my guardian angel and wanted to spend her life with me. We went to the same college because we couldn't bear to be in a long-distance relationship. She even stayed with me after I was diagnosed with cancer. I thought that I would spend the rest of my life with her."

Carter spoke with tears pouring down his face and Eleanor was shaking with her eyes wide.

"What kind of cancer do you have?"

"I'm not sure where it started first, but it spread like wildfire. As you can probably tell, my lungs took a heavy hit.