by TT Kove
I jerked my foot away.
Why was he here? How dared he come after me in a hospital?
What if no one came to look in on me? Grandma had gone home to sleep. She wouldn’t be back for hours. Mum… she’d walked out. She hadn’t said a word. She might not have known, but there was also the possibility that she did know.
What if she does?
What am I going to do then?
Die…
That was all I wanted to do. But I wanted to die in peace, without Andrew around to hurt me some more.
‘You don’t look so great.’
Probably had a lot to do with the fact I’d tried to kill myself. Didn’t he feel any regret? It was all his fault…
He sat down in the chair Mum had abandoned earlier. He rested his hands on his stomach, spread his legs, gaze firmly locked on me.
I didn’t want to meet his gaze. I couldn’t stand to look and see the cold, hard truth. How he didn’t care. He didn’t care at all about me, except for what I did for him. All that mattered for him was him. No one else were as important as his happiness, his needs. Even if he had to ruin someone’s life, as long as he got what he needed, he didn’t give a damn.
What had made him like this? I’d asked myself that hundreds—maybe even thousands—of times throughout the years. Something must’ve happened to him when he was younger to make him into the monster he was now…
He couldn’t have simply been born like this, could he? Like the sick, sadistic, cruel, paedophilic pervert that he was?
Maybe what he’d been doing to me had been happening to him when he was young? I’d never liked that possible explanation. I didn’t want to think for even a second that having experienced what I did could make a person do the exact same thing to someone else.
A ruined life ruins another one, and so the circle continues.
I would never do to anyone else what had happened to me. No one should have to live in fear their whole childhood, of being used in ways a child should never be used, of hurting themselves just to dull the emotional pain, where the only way out was suicide.
‘Are you going to keep giving me the silent treatment?’ His voice washed over me, cool, cold, non-caring. There was no emotion in it. I didn’t matter, I wasn’t even worth a single emotion. ‘Crying again, are we?’
I didn’t even realise I was until he commented on it. All that mattered to me was the monster he was. Even if he had some sad, tragic backstory, it would never make me sympathise with him. Not ever. Not after everything he’d done to me, after all these years…
‘What do you want?’ The words came out shaky.
‘You’re in hospital. I’m here to visit, as is the rest of your family.’
Hardly.
Only Mum and Grandma.
The rest of them were back in Bristol.
‘Oh, they’re all here.’ He leant forward, eyes narrowing. ‘They all came rushing down to be with you once your mum told them what happened.’ His hand gripped my wrist and I tried to jerk away because it hurt, it was just stitched up, but he only tightened his grip. ‘Don’t you dare tell them anything. I swear—’
I didn’t get to know what he’d swear, because he broke off as the door opened. All I could do was stare at him in terror, tears streaming because he was hurting me. And it was too late! I’d already told. I’d told Mum. And he’d find out… and then he’d punish me. He’d punish me so bad. And I couldn’t take it, I just couldn’t. Not him, not again, not ever.
As soon as I got out of here, I was going to die. I was going to succeed at it. There was no other choice!
Waking up drenched in sweat and with a heart beating a mile a minute wasn’t exactly an uncommon thing.
In fact, it was quite common. But it was usually from worse memories than the one I’d been dreaming about. Memories where he’d hurt me properly. Now he’d just been sitting there, staring at me, intimidating me. He did that so well. Always had.
Even though I was drenched in sweat, I was cold. So cold I shook, teeth chattering. My tee and joggers clung to me, the duvet tangled in my legs.
‘Hey… Come on.’ Damian was at my side, arm sliding around my waist, boosting me up. I followed him blindly, still seeing those eyes flash before my mind. All I heard was the sound of my teeth chattering together.
‘He d-didn’t even d-do anything.’
‘What?’ We were out of the bedroom, in the even colder hallway, then Damian led me into the warm bathroom.
‘It was the hospital. He didn’t do anything to me there… but he was just sitting there. Staring at me. Being all intimidating. Telling me I’d regret it if I told anyone—’
Why couldn’t those cold eyes go away, it was like they were burned onto my retinas.
‘Come on, lets get these clothes off you.’
I did as he directed, still not able to get over the look in those eyes. It was the last time he’d been that close to me, and even if he hadn’t hurt me, it’d been terrifying.
The hot water hit me in the face, and it shocked me enough to snap me out of what had still kept me locked in the terror of the nightmare.
‘It’s okay.’ Damian’s hands slid over my shoulders, caressing and kneading lightly as the hot water washed down over me.
I bent my head under the spray. It felt good to have the hot water beating down, washing away the sweat and the terror along with it.
‘It’s okay. It’s just me here. Me and you.’ There was a squirt of a bottle, then his hands were on my skin again, rubbing soap over me.
That was the moment I realised he was actually in the shower with me. I glanced over my shoulder to see his bare torso, just to see if it was true. We hardly ever showered together. I could count on my hands the times I’d seen him naked—not counting when he indulged me with sex—in the last three years.
I turned abruptly, then slowly leant in to rest my cheek against his.
‘I’m so lucky.’
‘Why?’ His hands kept rubbing, slowly sliding down to my waist, and then to rub soap over my hips.
‘Because I’ve got you. You’ve been here for me, no matter what a mess I’ve been.’
‘I think I’m lucky to have you.’
I couldn’t help the derisive snort that left me.
‘Yeah, because I’m such a great catch.’
‘You’re the only one I’ve ever been interested in catching.’ A laugh escaped him as he belatedly realised the cheesiness of that sentence.
But it was enough. It had me laughing along with him. It felt so good to laugh again, it felt like it was a lifetime ago since I’d done it last.
He gave up trying to wash me and instead wrapped his arms around me in a hug. I pulled my head back slightly so I could look at him, and the laughter died in my throat as his gaze met mine.
I was still so in love with him. It washed over me in that moment, like a calming blanket. It bolstered, it strengthened, and my chest tightened almost painfully good at it.
I kissed him. Or he kissed me. It didn’t matter which of us took the initiative. All that mattered was that we were kissing and that it was good and great.
Kissing wasn’t sexual for him, and it wasn’t really for me either. Not to say I didn’t feel it further down, but kissing was more a comfort. It was intimacy, the most intimate we could ever be.
Sure, he indulged sex sometimes, but he didn’t like it much. But kissing… that I knew he liked. Now. It was comforting to know that he, who hadn’t even liked kissing in the beginning, now enjoyed it as much as I did. It was exhilarating.
Is it possible to love someone so much?
He was everything to me.
As much as I hated Andrew, I loved Damian just as much. But sometimes, the hatred and the terrors overwhelmed the love and I did stupid stuff. Like trying to kill myself.
I wanted to be with Damian more than anything else. But the impulsiveness… it could be fatal, especially when I was so far down the black hole I couldn’t even see a glimpse o
f light in the far distance. When everything was bad, so all-consuming bad, all that mattered was to make it stop.
He could make it stop, what we had together could make it stop, but he wasn’t always there. I couldn’t expect him to be. But he was here now and the horrid memories fell away as we pressed together, as we kept kissing. The water still washed down on us, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was him, this, us.
When we were like this, nothing else could penetrate our own little bubble. It was only us, and it was good, so wonderful, and I never wanted the bubble to burst. It always did, whenever the spell broke, but for the time we spent like this, it was definitely worth it.
‘Put whatever you want in the trolley, Josh.’
Claire smiled at me as she breezed through the aisles. She’d dragged me to the supermarket with her, saying that I couldn’t stay cooped up in the house all day, that I needed to get out. I agreed—so I went with.
It was safe going out with someone else. Andrew would never do anything to me when other people were around. Still, I was wary of going out in public alone. That was why I still hadn’t met up with any of my friends, even if they’d all messages me asking if we could.
Someone had to come with me, someone I knew. And Damian had been busy with uni Thursday and Friday.
Today he wasn’t, but…
It was Claire and I who went out.
Damian and Ray was back home preparing dinner till we came back, with help from Matilda.
Matt was… I didn’t know what Matt was. Probably cooped up in his room. He was even more moody than I was nowadays. I wouldn’t have thought that possible, but it was.
‘Don’t you want anything?’ Claire stared into the trolley. It only contained items she herself had put there.
I shrugged. I didn’t have much of an appetite lately, but I ate whatever they made for dinner. Since they were so kind and let me stay with them, it was the least I could do. But I didn’t want her to pay for anything else on my behalf.
‘Come on.’ She nudged me. ‘What about crisps? What do you like? We’re having a film night tonight and everyone likes different kinds of snacks.’
I looked over the assortment, and grabbed a bag of salted crisps.
‘This one, maybe.’
‘Great.’ She took it from me and put it in the trolley. Then she grabbed several other bags of crisps as well.
I smiled slightly and pushed the trolley after her as she continued along the aisle. Claire was so happy, so kind, so down-to-earth.
I wish I could be like that.
‘Josh, could you grab me some toilet paper over there?’ Claire motioned to the other side of the aisle.
I left the trolley with her, where she was perusing women’s toiletries, and headed back to the paper section. I didn’t know what brand she preferred, and she hadn’t said, so I took one that wasn’t too expensive.
As I turned to head back to her, someone walked right into me. Our shoulders crashed together and I staggered back.
A man, taller than me, blond hair—
I couldn’t breathe.
‘Hey, sorry, mate.’ Blue eyes looked at me through black-rimmed glasses, before the man hurried on his way.
I let out the breath I’d been holding, relief flooding me.
It wasn’t Andrew.
‘Josh?’ Claire called, a worried tinge to her voice.
I clutched the toilet paper to my chest and ambled back over to the trolley.
‘I’m sorry.’
Her eyebrows drew together in a frown.
‘Did he hurt you? Your arm?’
‘No, I was just surprised, that’s all.’ I didn’t want to admit out loud I’d thought for a moment he was Andrew. They’d all made it perfectly clear he wasn’t out there to get me, that there wasn’t anyone out there watching. That it was my paranoia, set off by my borderline personality.
But it’s not. It isn’t.
He is out there.
Maybe he wasn’t here in the shop. But he had been watching me when I sat on the stairs, keeping an eye on Storm. And he had been stalking me before my two-weeks stay in hospital and a week and a half in Bristol. I knew it. I wasn’t wrong.
I can’t be wrong.
They all said I was wrong—so I had to be right? But I couldn’t shake it. And I had no idea if this conviction of mine he was out to get me really was founded in reality, or if it truly was paranoia because of my diagnosis. I’d never had paranoia about anything before, not like this.
I hate this.
I hate myself.
Hate my mind.
I hate being borderline.
I hated not being able to trust myself.
I wasn’t aware he’d stopped talking because of the door opening before I heard voices.
‘Step away from the bed, sir.’
My head turned slowly to find not just one, but two uniformed officers.
What?
What was going on?
Andrew rose.
‘What’s going on?’
Like he read my mind.
Voices drowned out. All I could see, all I could register, was how there was a pair of handcuffs out in the open all of a sudden. A pair of handcuffs that wasn’t used on me, but on him.
He threw me a look, a furious one that never boded well for me… but now he was in handcuffs.
Two officers were there to take him away.
They would, wouldn’t they?
They had to!
Lock him up, lock him away, far, far away from me.
My ears were ringing. Andrew’s lips were moving but I didn’t hear what he was saying. My gaze zeroed in on his lips, on their movement, but no sound reached me. Nothing but the ringing and the sound of my own heart beating wildly.
He didn’t fight them. He walked out calm as ever.
One moment he was there, the next he was gone. Led out, in handcuffs, arrested.
Joshua…
Joshua?
Joshua!
I blinked, dazed.
‘Joshua?’
It was Mum. She was there, next to my bed.
She took a step closer, then stopped. She put her hands behind her back, looked away.
I swallowed the lump that was stuck in my throat.
‘You b-believe me?’
She still didn’t look at me, but her nod was terse.
‘Of course I do.’
Of course…
There was no of course.
I’d always believed she wouldn’t. And here she was, telling me that of course she did. How was I supposed to know that she’d believe me? She’d always been too busy to bother with me. She’d left me in Andrew’s care while her career soared.
‘Where’s Grandma?’ It was weird that she wasn’t here by my side.
‘Still at home. I haven’t told her yet.’
The lump was back, so big I couldn’t even swallow it.
‘Wh-why?’ Did she want me to keep this quiet? Didn’t she want anyone else to know? But she’d had Andrew arrested… of course the rest of the family would find out.
She sank onto the chair next to my bed. Her head turned to face me, green eyes staring at me. I couldn’t face that stare, so I turned my head away.
‘I’m so sorry.’
I tilted my head in her direction.
‘What’re you sorry for?’
‘For not seeing the signs.’ She turned her head away so I couldn’t look at her anymore. ‘I should’ve seen the signs of what was going on, of what he was doing to you.’
‘He was very careful not to let you know.’ My lap had become very interesting all of a sudden.
‘I still should’ve seen them. I should’ve seen the signs better than anyone.’ Her hands were balled into fists, gripping the fabric of her trousers in-between them.
Those words held meaning, I could feel it.
‘What do you mean?’ My voice shook.
She hesitated with her answer, and I could see her internal stru
ggle due to the rapid changes in her expression. Even in profile they were obvious.
‘I’ve never told anyone this before, and now I’m sitting here, telling you. I know I haven’t been a good mum to you, that I’ve left you to your own devices—to him—and that I’ve been largely absent. I am so sorry about that. I never meant to be absent from your life, to not even know you. For fifteen years I ignored my own son, leaving him in the care of my husband while I focused on my career. It’s no excuse though to ignore you, it really isn’t. I am so ashamed, and all I can do is tell you how sorry I am and how much I want to make it up to you. If that’s even possible at this point.’
I heard what she was saying, every word of it, but my mind had stuck on her first sentence and I couldn’t let it go.
‘What’d you mean? What’ve you never told anyone?’ My voice still shook, but it also demanded answers. I needed to know.
She glanced up at me, but when our eyes met, she quickly turned away again.
‘I should’ve seen the signs because—’ She took a shaky breath. ‘Because I’ve been exactly where you are, Joshua.’
My eyes widened.
‘Wh-what?’
‘I’ve been a victim of sexual abuse too.’ She closed her eyes as if she was in pain. She probably was. I knew better than anyone just how much the inside could hurt. I bet talking about it had her remembering all over again and I shuddered at the thought.
I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I was frozen in place.
‘You? But—Who? Who did that to you?’
She pressed her lips together into a small line.
‘My father.’ It came out as a bitter snarl, like the word was the worst of curses. ‘For four very long years he did things to me. Then he was diagnosed with cancer and died. Months of pain were what he got, because the cancer had already spread and there was nothing they could do. I didn’t feel sorry for him. I was happy he was suffering. Karma had come back and properly bitch-slapped him in the face. He got what he deserved, and when he died, I was happy then too. I would never have to see his face again, I would never have him crawling into my bed.’
My throat had gone dry.
‘How old were you?’
‘From I was ten till I was fourteen.’