The song of an angel sounds in the room as he snickers under his breath.
“If you want to tell me more about–you know–you can,” I assure, caressing the back of his hand hoping to soothe his bleeding heart.
“It’s harder than I thought it’d be,” he admits. “But it’s the first time I say it out loud and it feels…freeing.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, holding myself back from hugging him. I want to reassure him, but I don’t want to put him through unnecessary discomfort.
The acidic tingling in my stomach doesn’t subside as I scan his features one by one. The nausea lurching in me feels like a needle poking my flesh repetitively and blood crowding the space until the need to puke it all out becomes unstoppable. Yet my mouth is empty, and the nausea remains in my stomach, rotting my insides.
“That’s why therapists are so well paid,” I joke. “Talking to someone helps.”
Visha laughs, nodding in agreement. “But they’re overpriced.”
“My God, they really are!”
We settle in a comfortable silence for a while, giving him time to rearrange his thoughts before continuing. I can’t begin to imagine what he’s thinking about right now. The intensity of thedisgust I feel can’t compare with the terror and unease he must be feeling.
God, I feelsick.
I feel like my insides are being torn upside down after hearing what he went through and for being so fucking helpless as he tells me his story.
I remain pathetically distraught by the physically painful sympathy I feel as my skin itches to comfort him.
19
Visha
“The first time it happened, I went crying for help to Mrs. Keyton. But she blamed me for her husband’s behavior. She kept saying that I seduced him and that it was my fault. She had no intention of ever helping me. All she cared to do was underfeed me and insult me daily.
“The kids constantly bullied me. They’d destroy the little amount of clothes I owned. They’d put insects in my food. They’d turn our classmates against me and influence them into bullying me too.” I shift my gaze toward the window.
This crap went on for a year and yet now that I think about it, isn’t there more I could’ve done? I basically laid down and took the abuse like a coward. I was complacent at most.
I hate how stupid I am and how I get angry so late rather than, I don’t know, having defended myself when I needed it.
But it wasn’t my fault! I know it wasn’t my fault and that in the end no matter what I say I wouldn’t have been able to change anything. So, why do I keep telling myself the contrary?
“No one cared. No one tried to help me. No one saw what was happening to me. If they had in fact seen, then they simply didn’t bother reacting. On Christmas Eve, I understood that I would die there if I stayed. I didn’t especially want to live but I didn’t want to die likethat. So, I ran away and waited on that sidewalk. I didn’t have a plan, really. I just waited for something, anything, and nothing.”
“And I showed up?” he asks, blinking away the unshed tears.
I nod. “You were warm and bright. It made me uncomfortable how you’re always smiling but you were the first toseeme. You saw me and reached for me. Twice. You gave me a chance to be more than I was at that moment. A victim, ruined goods, dead meat.”
Suddenly, Aoi grabs my shoulders and furiously shouts, “You’re not ruined goods! You’re not dead meat! Visha, do you hear me? You’re a beautiful and sweet kid. You’re smart and funny. No matter what, you’re amazing, and you deserve to be treated as such!”
His gaze brims with anger at the injustice I faced. His lashes stick together as he holds me firmly. There’s not an ounce of violence or aggression in his grip.
What’s this feeling bubbling in my chest?
“I’m sorry and thank you.”
“I care for you, Visha. I will never hurt you the way they did.Never. I know it will take time for you to trust me. And I don’t expect you to instantly rely on me but,” he sniffles, “know that you can. I decided that I would help you the moment I saw you and I intend to keep my word.”
I believe him. No matter what he says I know that he’s worthy of my trust, and I’ll believe his every word.
He takes a deep breath and reluctantly says, “There’s a simple way for you to live with me but I need you to trust me.”
The sapphire blue of his eyes shines with unease, his shoulders slumping, and our hands remain interlaced. I smile and nod. He exhales and looks down at our hands for a momentbefore bringing his gaze back to me. The unease completely vanishes and turns into resolve as he straightens his back.
