“Clay?”
Her voice is an echo I can barely catch through the raging ringing in my ears, my vision blurring. A hand reaches out and touches my rib “Clay, are you okay?” I flinch as I step back and spill some water on my legs. She takes her hand back, panicking. “Oh I’m so sorry, let me help you.” She wipes the water awaywith the sleeve of her sweater. “Did I hurt you?” I shake my head as my lips tremble. Her eyes fall to my mouth and her gaze softens as she inches closer slowly and holds my hand. “It’s okay to cry sometimes.”
A tear slips down my cheek as it trails down to my lips and I taste its bitterness. My hands shake in hers but I don’t cry.
“Can I show you something?”
She nods slowly.
“Promise me you won’t be scared or disgusted.” I plead as I hold my pinky finger for her. A second passed and she locked her finger with mine. “I promise.”
I let go of her hand and reached to the hem of my sweater, raising it. My bruised rib appears and I soak in her face for the reaction. Her eyes widen when she realizes and her vision fills with tears.
“You didn’t hurt me, Elsie. I’m already broken.”
She hugs me, burying her face in my neck as I cling to her back. “Everything broken can be fixed, even you.” Her words are supposed to soothe me but I can’t find it in myself to believe her.
I keep getting worse and I have to accept it. The darkness is the only thing that protects me.
She pulls away after a while and asks “Your parents are bad people?”
I shrug. I don’t think they’re bad people. I think they have a twisted fate and they chose to be tormented by it instead of taking responsibility for their actions and dealing with it.
The one who is taking responsibility for their faults is me and they make sure I pay for something I never had a hand in.
Every. Single. Day.
I have to be worthy to breathe , eat and bathe.
Instead of explaining my thoughts, I nod. “Yes Elsie, they’re bad people. They have friends who are bad and they use them. They are bad parents and they don’t like me.” I hold her hand.“But don’t worry, I won’t ever let them see you or get close to you.” My lips tremble. “I wish I was a better friend and we ride bicycles, play games together.”
she smiles. “We are already doing that, camping together, we played with dolls and we robbed a grocery store.” She finished her sentence with a giggle, tears forgotten as I smiled.
We keep our hands holding each other as she rests her head on my shoulder.
We stand before her home as the sun shines on the horizon. The foggy air still surrounds us as she lets go of my hand and heads towards her door. I wait for her to walk inside safely, her hand reaching up to the door handle but she stops, I frown.
She looks back at me over her shoulder and waves with a smile. “Merci d'être mon tout premier ami” She whispers as my frown deepens in confusion. I’m pretty sure she said thank you in French but I don’t understand the rest and I made a mental note to get into the language.
I shrug. “Sure, anytime.” Even though I have no idea what she said, she chuckles and gets inside her home quietly.
I walk away with my hands in my pocket and when I look back I see her waving at me from her bedroom window. She breathes onto the glass and draws with her pointer finger.
A smiley face wearing glasses.
And I can’t help but smile back.
Chapter Six
The Present
Clayton
The constant flickering of the fire burning through my candles cast shadows across my basement, the wax already reaching its limits. The nights pass by as I keep attempting to bring the soul that haunted my every waking breath through the years back.
Elsie Beaumont.
The girl who made life survivable.
