“Elliot?” she says, her eyes wide.
I look at them. “You know each other?”
“Yes,” he smiles. “We go a long way. I’ve even met you when you were but a small child.”
I don’t understand. What does this mean?
“But enough about the past. First,” his upper lip curls when he looks at Hayden. “Would you mind leaving?”
My hand automatically grasps the end of his gown. He looks down at me. I don’t want him to leave. But… if I say that, I’m sure he would call me a nuisance. However, he doesn’t shake my hand off.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
They stare at each other. After a couple of minutes, he tips his hat down. “Just don’t blame me if something happens.”
My dad walks into the room, surprising all of us. His black hair is tousled as if he just got out of bed, his eyes are red and bloodshot, and his clothes is messy. He’s wearing a business suit that should make him look refined, but all it does is make him look like a hot mess. He stumbles over to me.
“What’s wrong with him?” This isn’t the man I saw three months ago—it’s the shell of him.
“Money…” he falls to the ground and clings to my sheets. “Give me more money…”
Hayden looks like he’s about to tackle him at any moment. It’s only been three months since I’ve last seen him. How can a person be this unraveled? My mom stands, shocked to see him.
“What are you doing here?” she places a hand over her mouth. “I thought you left.”
He doesn’t hear her. All he’s repeating is “money” with the same lifeless expression.
“Why did you bring him here?” Hayden yells, grabbing his grandfather by the collar. He looks unfazed by his glower, opting to look at me.
“A family reunion should have all members,” he smiles. “Isn’t that right?”
In one moment, everything changes.
I hear clicking before I slowly turn my eyes to my dad. He’s holding something. It’s not a knife and it’s not a toy—it’s something that can take anyone’s life with a single tap of a finger. It’s a gun.
“This isn’t a joke!” his bloodshot eyes dart around the room. “Give me your goddamn money!”
I don’t dare move, and neither does my mom or Mr. DiMaggio. The only one remaining who does is who I least expected. Pushing away Mr. DiMaggio, Hayden steps in-between us.
“Hey,” he growls, his voice low. “What do you think you’re doing?”
The gun shakes as he points the barrel at him. I can feel my heartbeat in my ears as I watch him cock back the gun. I’ve seen enough on TV to know when a gun is loaded, and this is no joke.
“I need it…” he says, as if in a trance. He places a hand on his head. “The whole reason my life went to shit is because she was born!”
“You’re the real piece of shit here.”
“You don’t know anything!” he screams. “Everything… yes, everything… it’s all her fault!”
“I don’t have any parents, so I don’t know if what I’m saying is right,” he lifts his head, “but I do know that you’re wrong. Your problems aren’t from her. Your problems are defined by what you did in the past, and what you didn’t do to fix them.”
“Shut up, shut up!” his finger slowly draws back on the trigger. “Don’t lecture me!”
“What’s wrong?” he asks, stepping forward. The gun shakes in his hand as he inches closer, opening his arms. “If you want to shoot, shoot.”
Finally, a gunshot rings out, and everything slows to a crawl. I watch as his body falls to the ground, lifeless. I’m in shock as I stare at his eyes, the color in them lost. My mom runs to my bed and hugs me, but I don’t hear anything she’s saying. I don’t want to hear anything she’s saying. He’s dead.
When I realize that, I scream.
“Letting go isn’t easy, but it’s necessary.”
— Anonymous
11
Two Heart’s Trauma
December 21st, 20XX
9:34 AM
The winter cold nips at my face as I stuff my gloved hands in my pocket. It’s December 21st—the first day of winter, otherwise known as the winter solstice. My black fur jacket feels heavy on my body, and my breaths are released as white puffs of air as I stare down at the tombstone. I’ve read “rest in peace” so many times, never once cried.
I wonder if I’m broken.
“How long are you going to stand there?”
“I said I didn’t want to see you.”
“I ignored you.”
“Just like when you ignored me back then?” I turn to face him, the cold whipping my face. Hayden stands there, a white jacket drooped over his gown, so he can’t be chilled by the winter blast. “Why don’t you ever listen to me?”
It was three months ago. Before my dad could pull the trigger, another gunshot rang out instead. I was focused on Hayden, so I didn’t notice Mr. DiMaggio press the emergency button on the wall. The security guard shot him. He died instantly, so he they said he didn’t suffer.
In my mind I should feel sad, but in my heart, I can’t. It was either him or Hayden. My dad abandoned me. He never once showed remorse for what he’s done to me or my mother, but he was still my dad. I feel empty once I realize I lost him.
I’m confused, and looking at him makes me even more lost. “I never want to see you again.”
“Do you really mean that?” he asks. “Or are you saying that because your confused?”
How is it that he knows me more than I know myself? It’s unfair. “I don’t want to—”
My words are swallowed by his lips. When he pulls away, he stares at me. “I love you.”
I’m blindsided by his sudden confession, but before I can reply, he kisses me again. Every time I open my mouth, he seals it. When I begin to grow dizzy, he stops. While I try to collect my breath, he stares at me. Those brown eyes I saw on the first day of spring look nothing like they were before—they’re honest and unclouded.
“I don’t understand,” I look down. “Why me? I’m weak. I cut myself to escape reality.”
“Nobody wants to be hurting alone,” he tilts my head up. “That’s why people find each other. If someone is going through something, they lean on someone else to lessen the pain. It’s not just you.”
“Cutting yourself isn’t normal!” I yell, hitting his chest. “Hurting yourself until you go into a coma isn’t normal! I’m not normal!”
“When did I say normal?” He pulls me into a tight embrace. “Look at me. Is having multiple personalities normal? Is forgetting everything so much that you have to write it down normal?”
My arms lay limp at my side. That’s the first I’ve ever heard him sound so pained while speaking about his problems. Hot tears roll down my frigid cheeks, and I raise my arms and hug him.
“We’re not normal. But is that a bad thing?”
His words break the lock. On my mind, on my emotions—on everything. I cling to him and wail like a child. Without caring about other’s gazes or opinions, I’m finally able to release all the feelings that I have been holding on to for too long.
I sit on a couch. After I calmed down and stopped crying, he brought me here. I look around the house as Hayden walks out the kitchen with two mugs. He hands me the polka-dot green and holds the blue one in his hand. When I take a sip, the cinnamon flavor of chai tea tingles my tongue.
“Where are we?” I ask, enjoying another sip of the delightful tea. He smiles, watching me.
“This is my house.”
I almost choke on my tea.
“You,” I place the mug in between my lap, my grasp on it tight. “You live here? With Mr. DiMaggio?”
“Yes,” he peers at my face, lifting the mug to his lips. “Why do you sound so nervous?”
I can’t help it. Every time I look at his face, I remember that kiss, that confession—everything.
“Because…” I mutter. “You might do something like that again…
”
“Like what?”
“You know what!”
“I won’t know if you don’t say it.”
“...You know, kiss me… or something,” I take a large gulp. I can’t think straight when he’s staring at me. He sits next to me. I flinch, but he laughs.
“Relax. I won’t do anything,” he stares into his cup. “I brought you here to talk.”
“Couldn’t we have just talked at the hospital?” I ask, enjoying the warmth of the mug.
“I wanted to talk to you in private.”
“About what?” I ask, taking another sip.
“Me,” he says, surprising me. He knows a lot about me, yet I know so little about him. “I give you permission to ask me anything.”
“Really?” he nods. “Do you remember June 1st? You told me,” I stop, “one of you said he remembered everything you don’t want to.”
“Each of my personalities remember events the other doesn’t. So even if that did happen, I can’t answer you,” he says. “Sorry. That wasn’t helpful.”
“No, it’s okay!” It’s true that I’m sad I can’t get an answer, but I don’t want to force him to answer me. “Then, how do you switch?”
He averts his eyes. “It depends on how I’m feeling. The doctors say… if I don’t want to deal with something, I push it on another me.”
“I would cut myself to be rid of the pain, so I don’t think I have the right to call you out on that.”
“…This is a weird conversation,” he sighs.
“But I’m happy. I thought I’d never have the chance to talk to you like this again,” my grip tightens around my mug. “I was unable to do anything when he pointed the gun at me, but you stood in front of me... all so that I wouldn’t die.”
“…I didn’t do it for you,” he mutters.
“Liar,” I look up, smiling. “No matter what personality you have, you’re still a terrible liar.”
“I’ll heat this up,” he takes the mug from my hand along with his and walks to the kitchen.
“It was painful to look at you. Not because I blamed you, but because of my own feelings,” I follow after him. “But after today, I’m sure.”
Placing our mugs on the counter, he opens the microwave. “What are you talking about?”
“I think,” I shake my head. No more low self-esteem Eliana. If I’m going to do this, I’m going to do it right. He walks to me, holding both mugs.
“It’s hot now,” he hands me mine. “Here.”
Without staring at either of the mugs, I look at him instead. A mischievous smile curling up my lips, I reach out my hands—but not for the mug. Standing on my tiptoes, I close my eyes and pull him towards me. My first kiss with him was gentle. It was the average peck on the lips. My second was sweet, sticky, and warm. It tasted like caramel.
And our third?
It’s a perfect mix. With the spicy taste of chai remaining on our tongues, they entwine and entwine again until we’re satisfied. My hands still firmly placed on his cheeks, I lower my feet. The nerves I was feeling before are now long-gone. I stare at his bashful face and take a deep breath.
I want my feelings to reach you.
“I love you.”
“When you choose to love someone who is damaged, you take on the weight of their past, their pain, their guilt. You must be strong, you must be patient. You can stop the bleeding and help them scar over, but they will always, always be a little broken. If you can handle that, if you can accept the dents and the cracks, if you can get them to trust you, you will never find a better ally than one who is damaged. More than anything else, they know about survival.”
— Anonymous
Epilogue
December 31st, 20XX
11:30 PM
“Thank you for shopping at Elle’s!”
I wave to the woman leaving the store with a large smile. I wait until she’s out of sight before dropping my hand and sighing.
“That’s the fifth sigh today,” I look over at Jared, my co-worker. He’s a year younger than me.
“It’s nothing,” I say, leaning on the counter.
“Someone doesn’t sigh that much unless they’ve got plans or their just plain depressed,” he leans next to me. “So, which is it?”
That’s right, I’ve got plans. I wanted to ring in the new year with Hayden at the hospital. But here I am, elven o’clock, still working. I don’t want to lose it, but I still want to spend time with him.
“You’ve got a hot date,” Jared says, smiling his signature Cheshire grin.
“I didn’t even say anything!” I blush.
“It’s written all over your face,” he leans his elbows on the counter. “Hmm. A boyfriend, huh.”
He falls silent. That’ weird. He usually talks my ear off every chance he gets. I hear the bell on the door, and the store manager walks in.
“Huh?” he stops. “Why are you two here?”
“We were scheduled today, sir,” Jared says.
“You two are still young,” he smiles. “Enjoy yourselves and go have a happy new year.”
“Really?” he nods. When he leaves the store, I can’t help but grin. “Isn’t the manager nice?”
“No,” he places his hand on his cheek. “Too bad. I wanted to spend New Year’s here with you.”
“You and your jokes,” I take off my apron and hang it on the rack, and he does the same.
“You have the amazing skill of denial,” he slides his backpack over his shoulder. “Well, I’m off. Don’t screw up your date.”
After waving goodbye, I run out the store. There aren’t any cars on the street, but the sidewalks are filled with people. I push through the crowd until I finally spot DiMaggio Hospital.
“Please don’t lock up yet!” I yell, stopping near the door. “I have someone I need to see!”
“Good evening, Miss Eliana.”
“That voice…” I gasp. “Mr. DiMaggio?”
I haven’t seen him since my dad’s funeral.
He still blames Hayden for his sister and brother-in-law’s death, and because of that, he locks him up in the hospital. He still holds a lot of mysterious about him, but I swear I’ll expose him one day.
“Happy new year,” I say.
“Happy new year, Miss Eliana,” he smiles.
“Excuse me,” I walk past him.
“I hope you two find happiness.” That’s the last thing he says before leaving. They’re nothing but empty words. Smiling, I walk inside.
“I’m sorry I’m late!” I turn on the light to see him reading a book. “Are you mad?”
He doesn’t answer.
“Stop sulking,” I sit down in the visitor chair. “I couldn’t help it. I had to stay late at work.”
“Work?” he doesn’t look at me, but at least he said something. He turns a page.
“The manager didn’t know we were scheduled that day, so he let Jared and I go.”
“Jared?” he looks up, disregarding the book completely. “You weren’t alone?”
“I keep telling you,” I sigh. “Listen. Jared is—”
He grabs my wrist and pushes me onto the bed. Suddenly, he’s straddling me while both of his hands are on each side of my head. I look up at him.
“Did he touch you?”
I blink. “What?”
“You work with him all day. You would have had to touch hands at least once.”
“Hayden,” I drawl. “Are you jealous?”
“…Wipe that stupid grin off your face.”
“Relax,” I place my hands on his cheeks. “I already told you how I feel, didn’t I?”
“You don’t regret it?” he asks.
“What would I regret?”
“You never,” he averts his eyes. “You never thought you wanted to date a normal person?”
“What about you?” I throw his question back at him. “We’re both not normal. But is that really a bad thing?”
Surprised, he laughs. The sound is new to
my ears. Smiling, he looks at me. “I’m glad we met.”
Fireworks exploding echoes inside the small hospital room. It’s the start of a new year. But instead of ringing it in with drinks, I’m kissing the one I love on a hospital bed. Yes, it’s not normal.
But who was the one who decided that everyone had to be “normal” in the first place?
We still have a lot to talk about. Our families, our relationship, his condition, the dandelion boy—but that’s a story for another day. For now, I’ll immerse myself in the moment.
Spring, the season of new beginnings. Summer, the season of warmth. Fall, the season of thankfulness. Winter, the season of cheer. And when the seasons pass, what awaits me next is…
Hope.
To Be Continued
Thank you for reading!
Hello, I am B.A. Gabrielle! First, thank you for taking the time to read Irregular Heartbeat. I really appreciate it. I’m a new author that debuted on December 10, 2016—my precious mother’s birthday. I’m an author who receives all her ideas from my dreams. I was overjoyed when I had the chance to bring this story to life. Eliana and Hayden’s stories aren’t over, it’s just beginning!
…Or something like that.
Anyhow, thank you for reading! If you enjoyed it—or even if you didn’t—I would be ecstatic if you wrote a review! Any feedback is good feedback. I also want to learn about my readers and what they like. Again, thank you for reading and I hope you continue to read about Eliana and Hayden!
There might be more trouble brewing…
Love, B.A.
About the Author
B.A. Gabrielle writes young adult and new adult romance, fantasy, and paranormal books. She loves Japanese manga, anime, and reading. All her book covers are illustrated by her. When she’s not writing, she’s found studying Japanese, drawing a certain unidentified dessert, or spending time with her family. You can find all her books at www.bagabrielle.com.
Irregular Heartbeat Page 5