27 Olivia
October 28th, 2022
I stood in the bathroom staring at the mirror, still fully clothed, the steam filling up the room, the scent of berries surrounding me.
Emily wore her scars with such pride. Ones she caused. And since finding out about them, did I see her as anything less than beautiful?
No.
No, I didn’t. I had heard her story, I knew what she went through, I knew Rae had scars too. Scars of torture just like mine, so why couldn’t I be as proud of my wounds as they were of theirs?
Lucy pushed her head under my hand as Merlin continued to play in the puddle of water I had left in the sink for him.
I glanced down, scratching her head. Was this how it would always be? My silence and her worry.
I didn’t want her to be like this forever. I wanted her to be a normal dog again. I didn’t want her suffering because of me, but I also knew that she would never get better if I didn’t.
I needed her to get better. I needed her scars to be worth something.
I swallowed, scratching her head before turning back to the full-length mirror.
I stared at myself for a long time before lifting the bottle I held in my left hand and taking a long, deep drink.
When the warm buzz finally hit my veins, I set it down and slowly began taking off my clothes. The sweater first and then the sweats. Not much of anything, I suppose.
I dropped them to the floor and stared at myself again, letting my eyes drift over the body that didn’t feel like mine anymore. There were long scars from the whip. Small ones from when they had punched me so hard, they split my skin in two. Burn marks from the electrocution, knife cuts from the knives they had put against me to keep me quiet while they—
I shut my eyes, my hands slamming over them. I pressed them into my eye sockets so hard, I started seeing spots. No. No!
I felt every muscle in my body tense, my hands shaking as that feeling came over me again. The feeling I had felt right before I tore each one of them to shreds.
I couldn’t feel that. I wouldn’t. It felt dark and uncontrollable, and I didn’t want to feel it anymore.
I grabbed the bottle and gulped down the wine, my mind buzzing, thrumming, my body becoming floaty and untethered.
Where was my tether?
I had lost it. Somewhere between Todd and shooting opening that door, I had lost it.
When the bottle was empty, I simply dropped it on the ground and headed for the shower as it rolled towards the door.
The hot water caused me to shiver as it poured over my skin, and for a while, I just stood there, absorbing the heat, grateful for it. I still had no idea how they kept that room so cold when it was the middle of summer. I hated it. I had missed the warmth. I had missed the want to wear dresses and sneakers. I had missed the Summer.
In the last two weeks, all I had done was wake up, walk to the couch, drink, eat what they gave me, watch mindless television, and wake up the next morning in my room.
I still had no recollection of how I even got to my room, but it wasn’t important enough to ask about, so I just didn’t.
I hadn’t said another word since the night Emily showed me her scars, but I knew they wanted me too. Their questions were more pointed, and they waited longer for me to answer before moving on. Still, I didn’t say a word.
But this would be a good step in their eyes, I suppose. Taking a shower meant something. At least, I hoped it did.
I hadn’t seen Everett since that night either and if I had any other nightmares, I didn’t remember them.
Today was the first time I had stepped into a shower since July Fourth. I should’ve taken one sooner, but I just didn’t have the want to do it. Evelyn said she had given me a ‘sexy’ sponge bath the day before we left that hospital, but I didn’t remember that. I seemed to have trouble remembering anything from my stay in that hospital, other than the stories, but I did remember every detail of my time in that room.
I needed to get back to my chapters, but everyone was already dead, and that was one thing I hadn’t accounted for when drafting the end of my story.
After a while, I looked over all of the care products Rae had brought over. Her way off showing her love, I suppose. Everything was so expensive. All of the best products for every inch of my body, and honestly, I used all of it.
I spent so much time going through the process each of the products wanted me to go through that, by the time I was finally rinsing my hair out for the last time, the water was cold.
I finally stepped out of the shower, my skin soft, shining, my hair as soft as it ever had been, and I began the process of doing the same thing with all of the things she had left me for after the shower. The lotions and serums and hair stuff.
I poured it all on me, drowning in the beautiful scents, trying to erase everything about who I was and become something new. Something… something better.
But when I was done, my hair dried, another one of Everett’s hoodies on, along with a fresh pair of his sweats, I still felt the same. Merlin sat on my shoulder as I walked down the hall, bringing with me all the different smells of that room. Fruits and flowers and spices. I smelled like I should belong in an expensive magazine or maybe in a movie.
But the thing was, I could change everything about my outsides, but the insides would still remain the same.
It was worth a shot though.
I walked into the kitchen, glancing at my computer that sat, still closed, on my table. Emily and Evelyn were talking as Evie cooked lunch.
She beamed brightly. “Holy shit, girl, you look like you should be taking me right back into that bedroom and reminding me why I pushed Everett into letting me fuck you.”
I found her eyes on the way to the wine cupboard.
Emily laughed lightly, glancing at that cupboard and back. “You look good,”
she told me, straightening. “And you smell good. Rae has the best taste in all of that stuff, don’t you think? I thought I had good taste, but she proved me wrong. I’ll forever be grateful for the bath salts.”
I paused, finding her eyes. Bath salts? Maybe I would take a bath tonight and do it all again just to use them.
I started for the cupboard again, reaching up to open it, only to pause when the sweater came away from those angry, dark pink scars around my wrist.
I quickly pulled a wine bottle out and jerked my sleeves back down. Out of all of the scars I had, I hated those ones the most.
“You okay?”
Evelyn asked as I turned for the table.
I tugged at my sleeves and nodded. I was fine, why wouldn’t I be fine? If they could live with their scars, I would learn to live with mine.
I took a seat in front of my computer and pushed it open, my heart thudding.
I didn’t feel like writing, but before that room, when I didn’t feel like writing, I would just write about my surroundings. What was around me now? Two women trying their best to connect. A suffering dog and a pet mouse. A house that wasn’t my own.
I leaned back in my chair, gripping that bottle in my hand, staring at the screen. I took a long drink and shook my head. I shouldn’t even have tried.
I shut the laptop and stood, heading back for the living room, that feeling brewing under my skin. I needed television. I needed something to drown out the thoughts, to make this less than it was. I needed something to get rid of that thing inside of me. The thing they had bred in that room.
I needed it gone, whatever it took. Whatever I had to sacrifice, I needed it gone.
I tipped the bottle back and started to drink again, everything fading into a nice, warm buzz. This worked better than writing. It worked better than mindless television, than anything. If this was how it had to be, then so be it.
After dinner, I could feel a tension in the air, and I hated it. I hated feeling like something was about to happen, it just made me want to break something.
I was on my second bottle of wine, my hand gripped tightly around the neck, my face pulled down in an irritated expression when they finally walked in.
The leash on the anger was growing tighter as the days went by. Fraying and unraveling. The only way to fix it was another drink. If I could mimic the numbness I had felt in the hospital, that black fog wouldn’t come back, I was sure of it.
But just as soon, Evelyn put the television on mute, and they both stepped in front of the television as if I were a teenager they were about to lecture. “Liv, there’s someone who wants to see you,”
Evelyn finally said, folding her hands in front of her. “They’re on their way, we thought it might be good that you guys reunite.”
I looked between them, my eyes narrowing. Who would want to meet me?
Everett?
I didn’t want to see him. I couldn’t. Yes, I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to feel his touch, I wanted to see his eyes staring right back into mine. I wanted to smell him more than just what was on his clothes.
But I also didn’t want him anywhere near me. I didn’t want him that close. I didn’t need him to be right next to me. He hadn’t replaced the one I had lost yet. He hadn’t tethered me down to this world. Maybe Emily was wrong. Maybe I was too broken for him to love, which was fine.
It had to be fine.
It would be fine.
Even so, I adjusted myself on the couch, Lucy looking up to make sure that I was okay before she relaxed back next to me, her head on my lap. Contradictions of the heart and mind hurt more than life itself. I just wanted it to end.
Evelyn gave me a warm smile and gestured for the bottle. “It’d be best if we didn’t have this in your hand with this guest.”
I watched her for a long time before setting the bottle on the coffee table. I didn’t need it. I was fine without it. I was.
Evie’s smile widened. “Be right back,”
she said and headed for the door.
Emily gave me a supportive look on her way to one of the chairs. I really liked her. I hoped, one day, we could become friends.
They weren’t acting like it was going to be Everett, and I was as relieved as I was nervous about who would walk into this room. I didn’t have it in me to have company. I barely had it in me to have Emily and Evelyn around all the time, although I was grateful for their presence, but other company? It seemed like too much all at once.
A few moments later, Evelyn reappeared, her eyes drifting back towards the door.
Seconds passed before another woman walked into view, her big, beautiful blue eyes red with tears. “Hey, darling,”
Stella greeted, walking around the couch to face me completely. “I just wanted to say something before she comes in.”
And whatever power it was that had forced my emotions into a box in my chest, cracked. Tears immediately burned the back of my eyes, my throat closing. No, no, not her. Anyone but her.
I couldn’t help but look at that bottle as Stella took a seat in the chair adjacent to mine. Just a few more drinks and I would be fine. I’d be fine.
She cleared her throat and adjusted her purse, pulling my attention back. “Evelyn told me that I wasn’t supposed to know this information, but that she felt that for me to fully understand the gravity of the situation, I needed to. I signed a contract of secrecy with her. I probably shouldn’t have, but this is my daughter, and I needed to understand what happened to her so I could help her the right way, no matter the cost to me.”
Evelyn and Emily headed for the kitchen, leaving us alone.
Stella inhaled sharply, and I had to swallow to keep back the tears. “Thank you for saving my baby girl,”
she said, tears streaming down her cheeks, her voice cracking. “None of it, not one second of it, was your fault, you need to understand that, Olivia. You have to understand that.”
I felt a tear slide down my cheek as she shook her head. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t do this. My eyes found the bottle again before finding hers.
“I don’t blame you for any of it, and I am glad, I am glad that those people are dead.”
She pressed her lips together and nodded before pushing herself to a stand. “Thank you, I will never be able to repay you for what you did. Ever.”
“Wait,”
I said as she made a step for the other room.
She looked back, clearly trying her best to keep herself together, just as I was.
“Did they…”
I whispered, the tears blurring the world. I clutched my hands to my chest, squeezing them together so tightly, I felt them pulse under my grip. “Did they, um…did they touch her?”
it was something I had tried hard not to think about, but I still did. Every single time they hurt me, I prayed, prayed, that they never touched that poor little girl. I prayed, begged God to have at least done that much.
Horror and such pain filled Stella’s eyes, and I felt that black fog start to crawl over my eyes, the world dropping from around me.
“No,”
she replied on a breath, shaking her head. “They didn’t touch a hair on her head.”
I closed my eyes, the world coming back, the fog slowly retreating, as a wave of relief washed over me. At least He got that right. At least He had answered one prayer.
A few seconds later, Stella’s voice sounded again, this time from a couple yards away. “Listen to me, okay?”
she started quietly. “She is hurt in her brain, so you have to be kind, the kindest you’ve ever been, and you have to be forgiving and gracious, remember? Patience. She is tired, more tired than your mama has ever been, but this is important, and we believe that this might make her feel better, okay?”
My eyes opened, locking onto that bottle. Just a few drinks. A few good gulps before she walked in. Just a few.
But before I could reach for it, a little girl walked into view.
And she was perfectly fine.
Not a single scratch on her, not one scar, not a hair out of place.
Baily was okay. Alive and well and healthy.
She was safe.
Tears streamed down my face, my bottom lip trembling as she slowly walked up to me, her motions a little hesitant. She was clasping her hands around a giraffe. About the size of her torso, very clearly old and well-loved.
She gave me a small smile and placed the giraffe right beside me, her eyes, my eyes, shining. “His name is Rover, mama said it’s a dog’s name, but I think it fits him.”
She stepped back, inspecting him, considering her words like children did when things became a little awkward.
“He’s been there through all the times I got scared,”
she explained, her eyes still trained on the animal. “When daddy yelled and thrown stuff, when the thunder got loud, or when I thought a monster might be under my bed. I didn’t have him when the mean lady took me away, but it was okay because I turned out just fine.”
Her eyes found mine, her expression turning to confusion when she saw the tears. She stepped up to me and carefully wiped my cheek, but that only made it worse. “Why are you crying, Aunty? You’re a hero, you should be proud of yourself. Mama says that’s where real pride starts, from your own heart because nobody can be as proud of you as you can be.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, my shaking hand finding my mouth. I couldn’t do this. I needed a drink. I needed the television. I needed something.
“Oh, um…”
Baily was quiet a moment. “Oh! I know what can help,”
Baily said, my eyes opening purely out of curiosity.
She started to climb onto the couch right where she had just put the giraffe, Lucy’s head lifting in curiosity. “Mama always said I got healing hugs.”
And without a second of hesitation, she crawled into my lap, straddling me, and threw her arms around my neck, forcing my dog back.
That wide chasm of a crack widened then, but it wasn’t the black fog that came out this time, it was something worse. It just…it shattered, and I wrapped myself tightly around her, holding her small frame against my heart, my entire body shaking as the tears streamed relentlessly down my face.
And all I felt was one emotion. One emotion so fully, I couldn’t even think about anything else. All I could do was feel it.
Feel the pain, the sorrow, the loss. Because I had lost so much. I had lost everything.
All of it.
I had lost my sense of time, of reality, of self. I had lost Lucy and Everett and my family. I had lost my security, my innocence. I had lost all of it.
They had ripped it away from me without care, without remorse. And all they wanted was information.
They had ruined me for information that I never had.
My grip around her tightened, my entire body curling around her, sore and exhausted. I never wanted to let her go. I never wanted this world to rip her apart like it had me. I wanted to protect her from everything. I wanted to shatter Lillian for almost destroying this beautiful little girl.
I needed the world to burn for what had happened to us, and I wanted to pour the gasoline and light that match with my people by my side.
But how could I do that if I couldn’t even manage to fix myself?