by Evie Harper
She calms and looks over at me. “And the times you were?”
My stomach rolls and my heartbeat feels suddenly heavy. “It was unpleasant, but it’s over. I’m home now. Can we please focus on that and stop delving into the past. I understand you need to know, but look at me. I’m fine.” I extend my arms out to show her my physical appearance is unharmed. “I’m healthy and I am home.”
“Your eyes, Em, they’re blank and that scares me so much. Every expression that has graced your face since the airport has been fake. Don’t think I don’t know. I’m your mother. You may think you are hiding your pain and misery well, but you aren’t. It screams off you like a volcano about to erupt.”
My head jerks back and my heart races. I’m not expecting her reply at all. She can see straight through me. I can’t even protect my family from that fucking collection.
“I’m not going to push you, Em. I just need you to know I am here for you. I’m here to take the burden from your shoulders. Give it to me, baby girl, so you can get some rest,” she says on trembling lips.
“I can’t,” I whisper in a shaky breath.
Doesn’t she understand if I tell her, the burden will only grow heavier? I can’t bring this pain to my family. I need to save them from it.
As much as I can’t go back to that girl from five years ago, I’m desperate for them to go back to the place in time when they were happy, knowing their daughter was okay.
I will make them believe that. I will give them the relief they deserve.
I will find myself or die pretending I’m okay.
CHAPTER FOUR
I open my eyes and look around the room. Straight away, I clench my eyes closed tightly. Not this dream again. Tears pool behind my closed eyes and I will myself to wake up. The knock comes on the door like it always does, and then I hear my mother’s sweet voice tell me to wake up for school.
“Em, are you awake? Your father and I are having breakfast. Will you come down and join us.”
My wet eyes fly open and I sit up ramrod straight in bed. I look around wildly. They aren’t the words my mother always says in this dream.
“Em, honey, are you okay?” Mom asks as she walks into the room toward me. I look up at her and then I remember. Jake. Kanye. I was rescued.
I curl my fingers into the comforter at my chest and lower my chin. A guttural sob rips from my chest as I realize this isn’t the ill-fated dream I’ve had for the last five years. This is real. My mother places her hands on my shoulder and I scream out a cry at having another piece of reality prove to me that I am safe.
“Emily.” My mother whispers my name in a tortured voice.
I hear my dad before I see him, his heavy footsteps enter my room.
“Kenny, I don’t know what’s wrong. She’s shaking badly,” my mom says in a panicked voice. I’m shaking?
My dad picks me up and puts me in his arms. I heave in and out trying to calm myself, failing miserably as the feel of my father’s arms sends me spiraling into another sob. They’re comforting, loving arms. I’ve dreamt of these moments for so long yet they never came. Nobody saved me in the moments that took the most from my heart and soul. I want to scream at them and ask where they were. I want to demand they explain why they didn’t find me in time to save Emily. She needed them. She needed someone. And now she’s gone. They looked. They tried. They did eventually find you. Not soon enough.
Please, God, don’t take this away from me again. Don’t let them see me for who I have become.
While trying to calm my breathing, I hear the doorbell and my mother races from the room to answer. A moment later, thundering footsteps are running through my parents’ house. I look up and watch Kanye race into my room. His eyes find mine immediately. My heart squeezes tightly when I see the agony cross his features. Why won’t he stay away? I’m only going to keep hurting him.
My body relaxes and I calm as my father gently whispers, “Breathe, Em, Breathe,” in my ear.
I hiccup once and whisper to my father, “I’m sorry, Dad. I thought I was dreaming. When I realized it wasn’t a dream...”
I’m not able to finish. My father’s chest expands and a broken sob erupts from his mouth. He squeezes me painfully tight and then places me on the bed, leaving the room without another word or look in my direction.
My mother comes to me, sweeps my dark brown hair behind my ear, and kisses my temple.
“This will get better, Em. I promise.”
She leaves the room and I know she’s going to find my father. They need each other right now. More hurt to the ones I love and it’s all my fault.
After I watch my mom leave, I find Kanye standing at the window. Bent forward with his shoulders slumped, he’s holding himself up by his clenched fists. Head down, he looks defeated.
God, I love him. He’s here again, the next day, early in the morning. Touch him. With these filthy hands? No.
He sighs and then turns his body toward me. “You need to come home. We both need to be at home. I want to take care of you. I want to be the one who holds you when you need it.”
My breath quickens and my heart double beats at the thought of waking up in Kanye’s arms. Heaven. Until he sees what you have become. Used. Worthless.
“Kanye,” I say and shake my head.
“I don’t want to push you, Emmy. But fuck, I need you.” My heart breaks at his words. “Going to bed last night, knowing you are in the same fucking town as me. Not being able to see you, have you at home with me, in bed with me. It killed me, Emily. How am I supposed to survive that every night?”
My chest collapses in. How much more can I take?
My pulse speeds up as anger bubbles inside me. Rage at Marco and the men who did this to me. They turned me into this person. Someone who can’t have what she wants.
I move out of the bed and run my hands roughly through my hair.
“Why are you doing this to me?” My chin trembles and I inhale deeply and continue. “It’s been five years since you’ve seen me. I’ve been touched a million times in that time. Is that what you want? A whore for a girlfriend, because that’s what I am, Kanye. A whore!” I end with a shout.
Kanye’s eyes widen and his head jerks back as if he was just struck.
“What. The. Fuck,” he angrily whispers. “Why the hell would you call yourself that, Emily?”
Is he blind? No. He just sees the old Emily. “Wake up, Kanye. The Emily you knew is gone. I’m used, worthless, pathetic, defiled. You will see in time how tainted and revolting I truly am now.”
I ramble off every name I’ve ever been called. Do I believe I am these things? I don’t know. But what if they are right? What if I am those things? Those names are always there, in my head, banging on an invisible door. Never ending knocking and reminding me it’s possible.
I flinch as Kanye roars, “Stop!” He punches a hole straight through my faded lilac-colored bedroom wall.
My parents race into the room.
“What the hell is going on?” My dad shouts at both Kanye and I.
My head shoots to Kanye and with my eyes, I beg him not to tell my parents my true feelings about myself. I know he understands when he shakes his head, removes his hand from inside the wall, and says, “I need to go.” He sighs heavily and looks to the hole and then to my parents. “I’m sorry. I’ll come round later on and fix it up, Ken.”
My dad gives Kanye a sharp nod.
Kanye shakes his wrist and begins rubbing his knuckles. “I moved my stuff to Dom’s. The house is free for you to move into now.” He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a black square device. He throws it on the bed, points to it and says, “Keep this on you. When I call, pick up. I mean it, Emmy. Pick. It. Up. I went five years without hearing your voice. I won’t do another day. Do you understand?” His eyes pierce mine. His face shows determination, but his eyes display just how devastated he is at my words.
I press my lips together and nod in agreement. Kanye leaves the room, an
d a few seconds later, we all hear the front door slam closed.
“Emmy, what was that about?” Mom asks.
“Kanye wants us to be together again. I said no. He didn’t take it well. It’s done. We are done. I’m going to change and then can you please drive me home? I want to settle in and start moving on with my life.” My voice is devoid of any emotion. Setting my feelings to numb right now is the only way I will stop myself from running after Kanye and begging him to love me anyway. Promise never to leave me when he sees how vile I really am.
“Oh, okay, sweetie, have some breakfast first and then I will drive you over.” With that, my parents leave the room and I wipe the memory of their concerned looks from my mind.
Day two and I’m failing already. I have to do better.
CHAPTER FIVE
After breakfast, I say goodbye to Dad and he tells me he’ll be over tomorrow to check up on me. I give him a kiss on the cheek and squeeze him with a big hug. He’s a good Dad, the best.
When I was eighteen and Kanye was twenty-one, my father found out we were dating and tried to separate us. For a moment in time, I honestly thought I hated him. Now I realize he’s just a really good dad. He was wrong to try to keep us apart, but I understand so much more now. My dad hated Kanye’s parents and everything they stood for. They were drug dealers and drug addicts. Dad was always very protective of me, and when it came to Kanye’s parents, Dad always made sure Kanye’s friendship with Jake and I wasn’t leading us into his life.
But as much time as Kanye spent at our house growing up, my dad didn’t know him at all if he thought Kanye would ever lead me and Jake down a dangerous path. If Dad had looked hard enough, he would have seen a boy desperate for the approval of a man who wasn’t even his own father and a family he so desperately wished was his own.
That’s the only time my father and I have been at war, and it didn’t last long. Three months and he finally saw how much Kanye loved me. And I think he realized he had missed Kanye’s attempts at looking to him as a father figure. When he realized Kanye was looking to him for his approval in almost everything in life, he released his grip on me and we were all happier for it. I also think he started seeing me for the woman I had become and not as his princess anymore, not that he would have ever admitted it though.
I wish I could protect my father the way he protected me.
“Em, one more thing, do me a favor?” I narrow my eyes slightly, waiting for his next words. “Give some more thought about Kanye. He adores you more than the ground loves the rain and sunshine. It might be too early for you to decide on what you want, but don’t just throw away the relationship. Think about starting again as friends. I have no doubt your feelings will grow for Kanye again.”
I drop my eyes to the ground and say, “Okay, I’ll think about it.” Not wanting to look at my dad while I lie to him.
He will see in time. I’m doing what’s best for Kanye.
Dad gives my mom a quick peck while I climb into her car. Before I know it, she’s in the car and we are driving silently through the streets to my old house.
The driveway comes into view and my heart palpitates. I hold my breath as we turn into the driveway, and there it is. The two-story, light blue timber house with the same beautiful white porch.
My mom drives up the brown, stamped-concrete driveway. We pass the white fence that reaches all the way around the house and the many tall trees around the property. The grass is bright green and looks freshly cut.
Mom stops the car right in front of the house. There is no garage here. Kanye and I thought we could add it later on.
I stay seated in the car while Mom gets out and walks to the first potted plant and pulls the key out from its hiding place. I watch as she enters the house, but I still don’t move. I just stare at the house. It looks exactly the same, as if no rain or wind has touched it since I was last here.
I open the car door and slowly step out. My heart beats harder with each step I take up the stairs to the porch and then into the house. My house.
I look around and it’s exactly the same. Just as though five years haven’t passed. As if my dark memories are only nightmares I had the night before.
I’m in the entry hall. To my left is the living room, and in front of me are the white railed, wooden stairs to the second level. I look to my right and find the dining room, still with the same round wooden table with blue seat cushions. Kanye and I picked out that table together. He wanted black cushions I wanted blue.
“Black will go with the leather lounges, Emmy,” Kanye informs me.
“But black won’t go with the rug we are going to buy for the dining room floor. Plus the placemats and the tea towels, which will all be in blue as well,” I reply.
Kanye’s eyes widen.
I quickly explain my reasoning. “We need something other than black, big man. Blue will lighten the feel of the house. And it’s still a boy color and it’s my favorite color as well.” I hold Kanye’s eyes and lift my chin to show my determined face.
Kanye blows out a long breath. Then suddenly he grins at me, picks me up and a surprised squeal comes from my mouth.
“Well, if its your favorite color, we’ll paint the whole house blue.”
I look into his sparkling eyes and smile. This right here is heaven. In the arms of the man who would do anything for me. Even paint our house blue.
“Em.” My mom’s voice pulls me from my memories. I tear my eyes from the table to her. “You all right, honey.”
“Yeah, Mom, I’m okay,” I say softly with a nod.
I walk into the living room and glance over the wooden floor to the two black leather sofas and a wooden TV unit with the same TV and a wooden coffee table.
The framed photographs on the wall haven’t changed.
Kanye’s party when he finished his time in the Marines.
Kanye and I dressed for my prom.
Our first date. Kanye took me to the local golf course at night. He set up a picnic under a tree with fairy lights. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
My high school graduation.
Me in a bikini. One of the many times we went with friends swimming in Valley Creek.
Kanye and I standing in front of this house on the day we signed the papers and bought our first home. The house we were going to bring our family up in.
A ringing sounds in my ears and I feel light headed. I’m going to fall apart. I grab on to the sofa to hold myself up.
I need to be alone.
I breathe deeply and pull myself somewhat together. Enough to be able to ask my mother to leave.
I turn to her and see she is watching me intently. “Thank you. I might have a nap. I’ll call you tonight, Mom, okay?”
I’m not sure what my mother sees, but she doesn’t argue about staying. Thank God.
“Okay, honey, I will leave you to settle in. Talk to you tonight.” She hugs me tightly, walks to the door, and closes it behind her.
I just stare at the door. It’s painted light blue with glass in the center of the top half. Thick glass is used so you can’t see in or out of it.
Suddenly, tasting salt on my lips, I’m brought out of my stare down with the door. I turn into the living room and examine every single photograph again. Why am I doing this to myself?
I slap my hand over my mouth to try and stop the onslaught of cries trying to escape through my mouth.
I head for the stairs. I want to break down. I need the shower. If I cry in the water, then they aren’t real tears. They will mix with the spray and then they won’t count.
I remember everything like it was yesterday. Up the stairs, turn right, pass the spare room with a double bed and white curtains. The toilet straight ahead at the end of the hall and the bathroom to the right. The next room on the left was mine and Kanye’s and it has an ensuite, I choose the ensuite, I want to close as many doors behind me to shield myself from the outside world.
I enter the room and close the do
or. My breathing accelerates as again I feel like I’ve gone back in time; it’s exactly the same.
White ceiling, pale blue walls, two small glass windows above the king-size bed. Two white bedside tables with a glass lamp on each side. A large bay window to the right of the bed with a window seat. The white lace curtains still pushed to the side. I search my mind for the last moment I had in this room to remember if they were open on that day. I can’t find the memory; there’re too many bad ones clouding the few precious memories I have left.
My eyes swing to the left and they catch on something on the bed. I inhale sharply. It’s my old Romeo and Juliet. I step toward the bed slowly and with shaking hands I pick up the play. Something falls out of it. Picking it up, I find a pressed rose, my pressed rose. My rose. Kanye gave me this rose at my prom. He placed it on my wrist and whispered, “I love you, Emmy. One day I’m going to put a ring on your finger instead of a rose on your wrist.”
I wore my rose all night. Through our slow dances and stolen kisses hiding from the teachers. I wore it when we made love for the first time, out under the stars alongside the Mississippi. I pressed the rose the very next day, knowing I wanted to keep it forever.
Ecstasy, that’s the only way I can explain it. Ecstasy travels through my body at a rapid speed. All my friends told me the first time would hurt, but I feel no pain. All I feel is alive. As if I’ve never lived a day in my life, until I felt this beautiful, rare, delicious feeling running through my body.
“You okay, beautiful?”
I open my eyes to find the love of my life starring down at me. Kanye. I give him a grin and he swoops down and attacks my lips. This type of kiss is one of my favorites. I love it when he kisses me as if I’m his reason for living.
He breaks our kiss and pulls out of me. We dress and he scoops me up into a bone-crunching hug. “I love you, Emmy. Only you. Forever.”
I sigh into his arms. He’s perfect.
“I love you, too, Kanye. Nothing will ever come between us. It’s you and me against the world. Forever.”