Scarred Souls: The First Collection

by TT Kove

  They were both worried.

  ‘Josh’s in hospital.’

  ‘Hospital?’ Kian frowned. ‘He left a few hours ago to go to the cinema.’

  ‘And now he’s in hospital.’ I dropped my shoulder bag without a care to what might happen to it, then I sat down on the other sofa. ‘The one he went to the cinema with—he killed himself.’ At least I assumed Mal had gone with him to the cinema. I couldn’t imagine Josh going alone.

  ‘Shit.’ Silver scooted out from under Kian, closer to me. ‘Is Josh all right? Have you been to see him?’

  I shook my head. I could see the horror on both their faces at it, and realised they might take that as an answer to the first question.

  ‘Angelina said Josh was all right physically, but they had to sedate him because he wouldn’t stop screaming. He’s not doing well mentally, and I’m scared for tomorrow.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I don’t know what it’ll be like when I go to see him. He hasn’t been hospitalised since we met, so I don’t know how bad it’s going to be.’

  I wanted to see him, I really did, but at the same time I dreaded it. If they’d had to sedate him… it must’ve been real bad.

  I stood from the sofa again.

  ‘I’m going to bed.’ The quicker I could sleep, the quicker the morning would come, with whatever it would bring.

  I arrived at the hospital bright and early.

  When I met up with Angelina, I instantly knew something was wrong. She stood with her head in her hands, and she nodded ferociously at something a doctor said to her.

  I stayed back until she’d finished speaking to him, since it wasn’t a conversation I was privy too.

  But the moment the doctor walked off, I was besides her.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Something was. I could tell. My chest squeezed, my stomach churned.

  Her hands fell away from her face and when she turned to me, she’d pulled herself together.

  ‘They had to sedate him again. He woke up and started hurting himself. There’s no doubt he’s being sectioned now, but they can’t start a treatment plan until he’s awake and calm.’

  Something squeezed tighter around my chest.

  ‘I can’t see him?’

  He was sedated. Of course I couldn’t see him. Or if I could, I wouldn’t be able to talk to him.

  She shook her head sadly.

  ‘All we can do is wait until he’s calm enough for them to get anywhere with him.’

  ‘Do they have an estimated timeline or something?’

  ‘No. He might be just as distraught when he wakes up the next time. They didn’t even get to tell him why they’d sedated him in the first place. The doctor said he’d been so set on hurting himself. All they could do was sedate him again.’ She smoothed her hair down. It struck me as a nervous gesture and not one of vanity. ‘This is bad. He hasn’t been this bad in two years. He was after he woke up from his suicide attempt. But he got help then.’

  ‘How long was he sectioned for then?’ Josh hadn’t told me much about his hospitalisation. Most of our conversation about his past and disorder were about his stepfather.

  ‘Three months.’

  Three months?

  ‘In a locked ward. People on the locked wards are sicker than the people admitted to the open ones. They need more vigorous help. He’s going to be admitted to a locked ward this time too.’

  A bloody locked ward.

  ‘Does that mean I don’t get to see him?’

  ‘Family and friends are involved in the treatment, if the patient wishes it. I’m sure he’ll want you involved. You are very important to him.’

  Hearing that warmed.

  ‘There’s nothing I can do here now. I was going to meet Harriet at the Café. Do you want to come?’

  ‘Yeah, okay.’ It wasn’t like I had anything else to do now I couldn’t see Josh. All I’d wanted was to see him—and I wouldn’t be able to. And I had no idea when I would be able to see him again.

  * * *

  I didn’t know why I stood hesitantly outside the door.

  Just inside it, he waited for me. And I was outside, not daring to open the bloody door.

  Man up. You haven’t seen him in a week.

  I went inside, but stopped again once I was over the threshold.

  Josh sat on the bed, legs crossed. His head lifted slowly to look at me. His eyes were sad, dejected almost. It was uncanny how well I could read Josh, whereas with most other people I didn’t have a clue what they were thinking or feeling.

  ‘Hey,’ I said.

  ‘Hey.’ His voice was low. His eyes searched mine.

  It was good to see him again. He was alive, he seemed to be well, and it was just so bloody good.

  I strode over the floor to him and he met me at the edge of the bed. His arms went around my neck, while mine wrapped around his torso.

  ‘You’re here,’ he muttered against my neck. ‘You’re really here.’

  ‘I’ve missed you.’ He was all warm, hard, male body. I’d never thought I’d ever miss feeling someone like this, but I’d missed him like mad. ‘I’ve missed you so much.’

  He was in a T-shirt and his arms were free of gauze. I could feel the rough texture of his scars against the skin on my neck.

  We didn’t have anything to say to each other just then. Instead we held on tight, like we were both afraid to let go.

  I was; I was afraid to let him go. What if next time I did I wouldn’t get him back?

  ‘I brought your journal.’ I handed the leather-bound book to him once we took a step back from each other. ‘You’ve been without it for a week. Figured you’d go mad without it.’ I didn’t realise before the words were out that it was a poor choice of them. He was sectioned in a psychiatric ward, after all.

  He didn’t seem to take notice of my words though. All he had eyes for was the journal. He stroked the leather lovingly and unbound the string to look through the pages within.

  ‘Thank you.’ He smiled up at me once he’d closed it again. ‘I’ve been itching to write. I don’t feel right writing on random paper. I need the journal for it.’

  We sat down on the edge of his bed. I slid one arm around his waist. It seemed I couldn’t keep my hands off him. He didn’t mind though, since he leant into me willingly.

  ‘How are things?’

  ‘The same. You know, busy with course-work, working a few night a week.’ Life had moved on even if he hadn’t been there. ‘I walked in on Silver and Kian in an extremely compromising position the other day. It was beyond mortifying.’

  That made him chuckle. It was a fine sound.

  ‘Were they naked?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Were they shagging?’

  ‘Yeah.’ My cheeks burned. I must’ve been even redder when I’d actually walked in on them. It truly had been mortifying. I couldn’t even begin to explain how it felt.

  ‘They’re very… passionate.’

  ‘If that’s what you want to call it.’ They shared a flat with someone else. They should be more careful.

  ‘What would you call it?’

  ‘Them being slags?’

  Another chuckled escaped him.

  ‘They’re in an exclusive, committed relationship. I don’t think that qualifies them as slags.’

  Maybe so. It didn’t really matter. Unless I got an eyeful again.

  ‘They miss you. They wanted me to tell you that.’

  ‘I miss them too.’ He put his head on my shoulder.

  ‘Spencer and Leslie say hi too.’ Ever since Josh had befriended them, and I still wasn’t quite clear on just how he’d managed that, they’d started talking more to me too.

  ‘That’s nice. Tell them I’m good.’ He hung his head.

  ‘Are you though?’ I eyed him wryly.

  ‘Hmm?’

  ‘Doing good?’

  I instantly regretted asking, because his whole demeanour changed. His shoulders hunched and the smal
l smile he’d had fell away. But at the same time I needed to know.

  ‘Right now, when you’re here, I am.’

  ‘But when I’m not here, you’re not?’

  He shook his head slowly.

  ‘I can’t stop seeing it. Seeing Mal, jumping in front of that car. It wasn’t just random, you know. He pushed me first, hard enough I fell. So I couldn’t stop him. Then he did it. I can’t stop hearing the sound when the car hit him. It was a horrendous sound. And then he was just lying there in the street.’

  I wrapped my arm around his shoulders.

  He leant into me.

  ‘His funeral’s today. I can’t go, because I’m in here.’

  ‘Can’t they let you go to it? I mean, it’s a funeral. You’re only going to have one chance at going to it.’

  ‘I don’t think I can anyway. Like, mentally I don’t think I can handle it.’

  I squeezed him tight.

  ‘I can’t believe he did it. Like that. He just threw himself out into the street. He didn’t even hesitate.’ He huddled against me. ‘He asked me to please don’t hate him. Said he couldn’t do it anymore. Then he pushed me and jumped right in front of an oncoming car.’

  I’d read that about one in ten people with borderline personality disorder committed suicide. Josh had said Mal shared the same diagnosis as him, and he’d been part of those statistics. Josh had tried to kill himself before, and he cut himself, but I could only hope he wouldn’t be part of the statistics as well.

  I didn’t know what to say to make him feel better. Quoting statistics sure wouldn’t do him any good. It would likely make him feel worse, considering he had the disorder too. I didn’t want to say anything that could compromise his rather frail mood right now.

  ‘How’s the last week been for you?’ I hadn’t seen or spoken to him all week. I’d hardly even talked to Angelina. I hadn’t seen the point. I didn’t want updates from her. I wanted them from Josh directly.

  ‘Chaotic,’ was all he said, and I could imagine that that was exactly what it had been like. ‘It’s all so chaotic. People don’t like me here, I know it. I’m calm one moment, then suddenly I’m raging and I don’t even know why.’ He wrung his hands together. ‘I think I’ve been doing well for the past half a year. Before I met you, too, except when it came to the trial and all that. And after we met… I think I’ve been good. But now I’m back to how I used to be before and it’s just… it’s chaos.’

  ‘That’s why you’re here. So they can help you. And I’m sure they like you. Everyone’s who’s in here is here to get help or they’re here to give help.’

  He pulled away from me, eyes dark and hooded when he lifted his head.

  ‘I keep doubting you.’

  ‘Me? Why?’

  ‘Because you’re not here.’

  ‘I haven’t been allowed to be here.’ It hurt to hear. I knew it was all part of being him though, of being borderline. I knew he couldn’t help it. But it chafed.

  ‘I want you to from now on. I told them I wanted my mum involved—and you.’

  ‘I want to be.’ Being involved with his treatment wouldn’t just be good for him, but also for me and for us. It would make me understand him better, instead of relying on everything I’d read.

  I knew not all of it would be relevant to Josh and there was more to him than what was written on sites with general information about being borderline.

  He scooted back in close to me.

  ‘I love you so much.’

  I stared into his eyes. They were big and sincere.

  ‘I do too.’ I still couldn’t say the words. I leant in to kiss him, to hopefully make up for the fact that I hadn’t.

  He returned it. He even cupped his hands around my neck.

  I liked it when he did that.

  He pulled back when I ran my fingers over both of his forearms. He licked his lips and cast his eyes down.

  ‘Ugly, right?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘Nothing about you is ugly.’

  He snorted.

  He didn’t believe it.

  But it was true.

  Yes, his arms were all scars, and I would’ve preferred for him not to have that reminder for the rest of his life. But at the same time, the cutting was what had helped him through all the years of abuse. They were a part of him, they’d been of help to him, they were his history.

  I couldn’t find anything ugly about that.

  ‘I have to go to group therapy soon.’ He leant his forehead against my temple. ‘It’s all about being active here. Group therapy, group activities, single therapy, single activities. I’ve started working out. Apparently that can help. As well as proper sleep, a healthy diet, and they say I should stop drinking.’

  ‘That’s probably wise.’ I didn’t drink myself, but I’d seen enough to know that people did stupid shit when they were drunk. And with him being borderline and the impulsiveness that came with that… drinking wasn’t such a good idea. ‘I have to get to work soon, too.’

  ‘Will you come back tomorrow?’

  ‘Of course I will.’ I stroked his back, feeling the ridges in his spine. I hoped his new healthy diet and exercise would help him gain some weight, because he was definitely too thin. ‘I’ll miss you.’

  That brought forth a smile.

  ‘I’ll miss you too.’ He wrapped both arms around my neck in a tight hug. ‘Please don’t give up on me,’ he whispered.

  ‘I won’t. I won’t ever do that.’ Maybe that wasn’t the best promise to make, considering everything, but I knew it was true. He was it for me. He was the only person who’d ever drawn my interest. He was the only person who’d ever got close to me. ‘Just come back.’

  ‘I will. I just have to get better first.’

  Josh

  Someone tried to kill themselves today.

  There were threats, yelling, people running this way and that. It was chaos. And chaos in my surroundings definitely didn’t help the chaos in my mind.

  So I went to my room and curled up on my bed. It’s a nice coping mechanism when I haven’t got a razor nearby. It’s even a healthy one, I’d say.

  My therapist here thought so anyway. Because when things had calmed, they came around to talk to everyone. Ask us if we were okay after what had happened, if we needed something, anything.

  I think the people here are real nice. My psychologist here isn’t Vincent, but I feel like they can help me anyway. I’m calmer than I was when I came here.

  I want to make sense of the chaos in my head. I think they’re fully equipped to help with that.

  * * *

  I messed up. The thought of spending Christmas away from everyone is unbearable. I messed up so bad.

  Why do I always do this? Why do I ruin everything? Why do I have to be me? I don’t want to be me. I don’t want to be anyone.

  I want to be dead.

  15

  I Love You Too

  Josh

  When I got out after being hospitalised the first time, it only took a couple of days until I slipped up. And I didn’t just slip up, I threatened Mum with suicide. I stood in the kitchen, with the sharpest knife I’d been able to find and I held it to my arm.

  I remember her crying, begging me not to do it.

  I did. Not the suicide, but I did cut myself on that knife.

  We had a therapy session together today, and she mentioned that incident. How it crushed her, how it destroyed her, to see me so broken up. Over something that had been going on under her roof for all those years, and she hadn’t noticed. How she just wanted to be able to help me.

  I don’t blame her.

  Maybe I did, when Andrew was still a part of my life. But I don’t anymore. She thought I was safe in his care. That I was being taken care of. No one thinks their husband’s capable of what he was capable of. He was my stepfather. Of course she would think he loved me like a son. She couldn’t know how sick he really was.

  But that incident… I
don’t want that to repeat itself. Not with Mum, and not with Damian. But I’m a ticking bomb. I can’t say it won’t happen, because it’s very likely that it will.

  Volatile. Mum used that word. That’s what I am. She says she loves me despite of it. Damian says so too, even if he hasn’t actually said the word itself yet. I don’t know what’s keeping him back.

  But I have to get better. Because I can’t let myself fall that deep again. I don’t want to die, not really. When things are dark and difficult, I might want it for a while. But it passes and then I want to be alive. I’ve got things to live for. People to live for. It would break them if I died.

  That can’t happen. I know what it’s like to be broken. I can’t do that to another person.

  It’s horrible—and it ruins your life.

  Damian

  I was changing out of my shirt and into my jumper when Spencer came into the back room.

  ‘Thanks for covering for me,’ I told him as I hung my shirt up.

  ‘No problem.’ Spencer smiled. ‘Josh’s getting out today?’

  I couldn’t help the brief smile that flitted over my lips.

  ‘Yeah.’

  About time.

  ‘Have a good day.’

  I grabbed my shoulder bag, nodded to Spencer and headed out.

  Leslie was at the counter when I walked past.

  ‘Enjoy the rest of your day.’ He waggled his eyebrows at me, and I frowned in confusion until it dawned on me exactly what he meant.

  Then I quickly turned away so he wouldn’t see my face flush.

  Josh was getting out, and I was getting off work early to be home when he was discharged, as we hadn’t been together in over a month. Of course Leslie would think we’d be up to something dirty. How could he know we weren’t? That we probably wouldn’t ever be?

  Silver and Kian were on the sofa when I got home.

  ‘You’re back.’ I stated the obvious.

  Silver smirked at me.

  ‘Home sweet home.’