You Only Want Me For My Body

CW: Suicide, self-harm, gore, sexual themes, language

The phone buzzes. 

Pamela Martin’s eyes shift from the sci-fi flick on TV to the phone, which sits by its lonesome a few feet away on the couch. As she grabs her phone to scrutinize the notification, Pamela’s heart rate increases. 

“You have a match!” the message cheerily tells her. 

Pamela taps the notification. Theodore Price, 31, male. 12 miles away. Preferred method: Sharp and messy. The bio reads, “I want to take your breath away,” followed by a purple devil emoji. 

The pictures show a ravishingly handsome man, all chiseled features and bulky biceps. The first photo depicts Theodore in a short sleeve button-up that can hardly contain his pectoral muscles. He’s holding a large, bloodstained chainsaw and giving the camera a dashing smile. 

The other photos are similar, only with different outfits and weapons. A lumberjack outfit and an axe. A chef’s outfit and a kitchen knife. Overalls and gardening shears. 

She wants to spend the rest of her life with him.

Pamela spends the better part of an hour brainstorming how to initiate conversation. Theodore beats her to the punch. 

“Heyy” arrives in her messages, with a winky face emoji as its companion. 

Pamela isn’t sure how to respond, but she doesn’t want to keep him hanging. “Hi,” she sends. 

“You looking for someone to spread your guts out on the pavement?” This time, an emoji with its tongue sticking out. 

A foreign thrill stirs inside her. The conversation continues. 

Before long, they’ve scheduled a first date. They both have dogs, so they decide to meet at the dog park. 11:15, Sunday. Pamela can hardly wait.

*****

At long last, Sunday arrives. Pamela gathers her little Shih Tzu, Charlie, and leaves her apartment. On the way out, she catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Staring back at her is a very tired woman wearing yoga pants and a gray sweatshirt. Not a lot of effort for a first date, but it’ll do.

After a short drive, Pamela arrives at the dog park. She puts Charlie on his leash and locks her car. She soon spots Theodore.

He’s almost as handsome as he was in the photos. In place of a battleaxe, he holds the leash of a noble Doberman Pinscher. A bit of a downgrade, in Pamela’s opinion. 

“Hello,” Pamela greets as she approaches him. He looks up from his phone and smiles with a flash of recognition. “I'm Pamela. We met on Kira. You must be Theodore?”

All 32 of his dazzling teeth still on display, he replies, “Please, call me Teddy.”

They start walking their dogs, who get along wonderfully despite their vast difference in size. Pamela and Theodore - no, Teddy - make some casual conversation. They talk about their professions (Pamela’s a cashier and Teddy’s a model), their favorite TV shows (hers is Star Trek, his is Love Island), and the recent weather (partly cloudy). It’s so natural that Pamela is caught off-guard when Teddy asks her why she wants to die. 

Pamela stops walking, mulling over the question. “It’s the right time,” she eventually says. “I always thought I’d be dead by now. It feels like I’ve outstayed my welcome.” 

Charlie and Teddy’s Doberman, Reese (“After my favorite chocolate,” Teddy had explained), playfully paw at each other and run in circles. Their impish growls and the jingling tug of their leashes fill the void of silence. 

“If you’ve always thought you were meant to die, why haven’t you done it yourself?” It’s asked without malice. Only curiosity. 

Pamela laughs awkwardly. “I’m squeamish,” she explains. “I guess I never had the guts to do it myself.”

But Teddy keeps poking and prodding, tearing away at the wrapping paper concealing her past. Before she knows it, Pamela is talking about her parents - how her dad passed when she was three and how her mom kicked her out at sixteen. How her girlfriend got in a car wreck and slowly wilted away in a hospital room. How it’s difficult to stay afloat, alone in the city.

Eventually, Pamela stops talking. She’s anxious, but glad it’s out in the open. 

Desperate to not lapse into silence again, Pamela asks, “So, what about you? How did you get into the whole killing business?”

Teddy grins. “I’ve always had a passion for murder, actually. As a kid, I used to torture baby birds.” He laughs nostalgically. “I’d snatch them from their nests and drill holes in their fragile little bodies.

“Unfortunately, my hobby got me into trouble,” he continues. “At ten years old, I stabbed my piece-of-shit grandpa. It was planned, of course, but my parents hired a good lawyer. Plus, I swore it was an accident.

“I spent some time in juvy. When I got out, I found out about Kira. That app changed my life,” he says with a twinkle in his eye. “It satiates my urges and ends people’s suffering. Gives a whole new meaning to killing two birds with one stone.” They both chuckle at the witticism. 

The odd couple walk and talk some more before planning a second - and final - date. Friday works best for both of them. There’s this glamorous Italian restaurant Pamela has always wanted to try out. Might as well go all out for her last supper. 

*****

Pamela has jitters for the next five days. She can’t stop thinking of what Teddy's going to do to her. One last crescendo of pain before the orchestra goes silent. 

On Monday, she considers cutting herself. Just the idea of incisions across her skin makes her nauseous. Instead, she wears a rubber band around her wrist. She repeatedly pulls it back and lets it go. The elasticity does its work, and red marks form on her wrist. An appetizer before the main course.

On Wednesday, she asks her neighbor, Mark, if he can dog-sit Charlie. Mark says yes; he could use the company. Garbage and dirty laundry litter Mark’s apartment. Pamela doesn’t question it.

On Friday morning, Pamela finds herself standing in front of an open closet. What to wear, what to wear. She considers a flowery dress, then glimpses a black suit. She tries it on and looks in the mirror. They say to wear black at funerals. 

Pamela makes instant ramen for lunch. It was Hope’s favorite before she died.

Pamela leaves the apartment at four. She drops off Charlie next door before exiting the building. Pamela decides to walk. The restaurant is close enough. She might as well enjoy nature one last time before becoming one with it.

Pamela arrives early. That’s okay. She’s waited for 28 years; she can wait another couple of hours. A waiter leads her to her table. She asks for wine while she waits.

Eventually, Teddy sits down across from her. He’s wearing a suit, too, only his is red. The waiter takes their orders. The couple starts talking.

“So,” Teddy begins. “Are you ready for tonight?”

“Oh god, yes,” Pamela says, before taking a gulp of wine. As she holds up her glass, the sleeves of her suit ride up a little, revealing the rubber band still around her wrist.

Teddy reaches across the table and grabs Pamela’s arm. He pulls the rubber band back and inspects the red marks on her wrist. 

“My eyes are up here,” Pamela giggles. When Teddy looks up at her, all she sees is desire. He lets go of the rubber band and it snaps against Pamela’s skin, making her wince with pain.

“You want me so bad, don’t you?” Teddy’s practically drooling on the tablecloth. 

Pamela feels excitement course through her body before coming out of her mouth in the form of a half-moaned “yes.” It’s been so long since anyone needed her like this. She blushes. It’s probably because of the wine.

Teddy notices the waiter returning to the table with their food, and puts an end to the dirty talk. There’ll be more of that later. 

They eat their meals, making merry conversation in the meantime.

As Pamela takes her last bite of lasagna, Teddy hisses, “What toy do you want me to use tonight?”

“Anything you like,” Pamela responds in a half-whisper. Teddy smiles wickedly. 

*****

Teddy drives Pamela to his place. “You’re too drunk to drive,” Teddy had explained. “I wouldn’t want a car crash to spoil my fun.” 

That had reminded Pamela of Hope. She sits in silence the entire ride. 

Then, Teddy is unlocking the door to his apartment. He ushers Pamela inside. He tells her to sit down and make herself comfortable. He leaves the room to prepare. 

Pamela sits on the couch in a daze. She attempts to familiarize herself with the blur of colors and shapes surrounding her. It’s a fruitless endeavor.

Pamela hears someone step into the room. It’s Teddy, holding something. She hears a mechanical whir, and Teddy saying, “Hey, baby bird.”

He’s leaning over her, his hot breath on her cold cheeks. There’s an itch in the back of her mind that she just can’t reach. The continuous, mechanical whirring doesn’t help her concentration. Teddy slowly pushes the drill toward her stomach. 

Pamela realizes. “Stop, stop,” she blurts out. Teddy steps away from the couch, confused. 

“I think I left the stove on,” Pamela says in a panicked tone. She gets up and grabs her coat.

“What does it matter?” Teddy replies, a hint of frustration in his voice. “You’ll be dead in a minute.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to take the rest of the apartment building with me!” Pamela throws open the front door and runs straight for the elevator, ignoring the calls from behind her.

*****

Pamela rushes inside her apartment, making a beeline for the kitchen. 

She checks, double-checks, and triple-checks for good measure.

The stove is off. Of course it is. 

In the chaos, she hadn’t even considered asking Teddy to drive her home. Luckily, she'd been able to hail a passing cab. 

It’s just like me to ruin the night with an intrusive thought, she thinks.

She pulls the phone from her pocket. One message from Teddy. 

“You okay?”

She sends a response. “Teddy im so sorry the stove wasnt on. i totally fucked up tonight.”

After five minutes with no reply, she sends another message. “can we start over?”

To her surprise, Teddy says yes. 

*****

They decide to see a movie the next day. Pamela asks Mark to dog-sit Charlie again. He agrees. 

Pamela meets Teddy in front of the theater. She’s mortified. 

“Teddy, I’m so sorry about last night. I was drunk and being an idiot and-”

He cuts her off. “Let’s just pretend last night never happened, okay?” He says it with a weary smile that tells Pamela she’d better get it right this time. 

The movie is a space opera with a corny message about loving yourself. It’s childish, but Pamela has some fun with it. She makes fun of the bad CGI, which eases the tension between her and Teddy. Or at least, she thinks it does. Teddy laughs at her jokes, but she can’t tell if he’s being genuine. 

After the credits roll, the couple leaves the building. Pamela’s eyes take a moment to adjust from the darkness of the movie theater to the bright sun. Its warmth feels wonderful on her skin.

“You ready?” Teddy says apprehensively. 

Pamela turns to face him. Oh god, this is it. The moment she’s been anticipating all these years. 

A flurry of anxiety wells up inside her. It’s not the good kind from yesterday. It’s the emotion she felt when she got caught kissing Hope twelve years ago. The anxiety of knowing your life is about to change.

She wonders if it’s her squeamishness. Do it already! she tells herself. 

She remembers standing on the edge of the roof. Standing, staring at the ground, until her legs gave out and she sat and vomited. The embrace of the sun had woken her in the early hours of the morning, lying on the roof, covered in puke.

She’s such a coward.

“I don’t know if I’m ready,” she admits. 

Teddy’s face clouds. That’s when she realizes he had been laughing at her jokes out of common courtesy.

“Is this relationship going anywhere?” He doesn’t bother to disguise his contempt. 

“Teddy, I’m sorry, I-”

He explodes.

He’s yelling at her, but Pamela can’t make out the words. “Coward” ricochets in her brain like a ball in a pinball machine. Somewhere in the back of her mind, the crew of the Enterprise are jeering. Data and Kirk, Hope and her mother. Wait, she thinks, That’s not right. Data and Kirk never met.

She feels pain of asphalt digging into her skin and realizes she’s on her knees. Her head is in her hands and she’s crying. When she looks up, Teddy is gone. He must have gotten in his car and left. She should probably do the same. People buying tickets are throwing concerned glances at her. She’ll go once the tears stop. 

*****

The tears don’t stop. Not permanently, at least. 

Pamela spends the rest of the day locked in her apartment. In between crying sessions, she lies on her bed and stares at the wall. She squandered her last chance. Coward, coward, coward. 

Eventually, she passes out.

*****

Knocking at the door. Pamela wakes with a start. 

What time is it? Only 9 P.M. 

Could it be Teddy? Her own personal Grim Reaper, giving her a second chance? 

She can’t fuck it up this time.

Pamela wipes her face in a weak attempt to look presentable. She unlocks the door and opens it. 

It’s Mark. He’s standing awkwardly at her doorstep, cradling Charlie like a baby in his arms. 

“Hey, Pam,” he says, avoiding eye contact. “I heard you come home a couple hours ago.”

God, that’s embarrassing. Mark must have heard her sobbing. 

“Anyways, I brought Charlie. You aren’t paying me that much to watch him, and I don’t like the idea of working overtime, so…” 

Pamela stares at him. Mark slaps his forehead and lets out a forced chuckle. “Sorry, that probably sounded mean. I was trying to be funny. I’m not very good at that, obviously.”

Pamela forces herself to speak. “No, no, it’s okay. Sorry for the trouble.” She grabs Charlie. The door closes.

*****

Life goes on, despite Pamela’s protests. She tries using the rubber band again, but it reminds her of Teddy. She throws it away. 

The days blend into each other. Wake up, work, sleep, repeat. She rewatches old Star Trek episodes in her spare time. Same old, same old. 

Pamela thinks about Hope and her father. She was so close to seeing them again. Maybe they’re punishing her, and living is her cross to bear. 

Perhaps God bioengineered spinelessness into her so she could serve as a cog in some grand machine. Manipulative bastard. 

Pamela keeps breathing, for whatever purpose that may be. 

*****

One day, Pamela looks around her apartment and realizes how filthy it is. She gathers all the stray bottles and packaging and other miscellaneous trash and stuffs it in a garbage bag. 

Half an hour later, Pamela holds the drawstrings of the bag in one hand, her keys in the other. She’s locking the door - the dumpster is located in an alleyway outside, so the trip will take a few minutes. She hears voices sounding down the hall, and looks to see who it is. 

It’s Mark, and someone else she can’t make out. They’re chatting - must be coming home from a date. The pair is some distance away, but still heading in her direction. Pamela finishes locking the door in a hurry, not wanting to get caught in uncomfortable conversation. 

She turns to walk away, but a familiar voice brings her to a halt. It isn’t Mark’s.

Pamela whirls around and recognizes Mark’s companion. Theodore Price.