35
ST. ANNABEL
I consider myself an excellent swimmer, seeing how I was taught to as soon as I could walk. Yet, there was a day when I nearly drowned when I was eleven.
It was the summer before secondary school started and I had a pool party for my birthday. Everyone showed up, even my dad who was even busier these days and stricter. He smiled less at me.
Before any of us even entered the pool, we were warned to be careful and even from a very young age that was the kind of girl I was; I put a second and third thought into everything I did, like my father. But that day, the excitement buzzing in the air had caught up to me.
Devon and I were playing a game, we wanted to see who could hold our breaths the longest underwater. There was nothing we knew better to do than compete with one another. It was fun, we fought a lot but she was my best friend. At least when Arden was away and he was away so often.
I hated it.
Every party that happened in this home was never really about me, I got to pick what I wanted but the parents were always here for each other. Like the garden parties, if we were absent even for a little they never really noticed.
The game was whoever stayed under longer would do whatever the other wanted for a week and when you were eleven, a week was a really long time. We snatched a timer from one of the lifeguards that had been hired and timed it.
Devon went first, she only managed to stay under for a minute before coming back up. Then it was my turn, what Devon didn't know was that I liked to keep myself underwater whenever I took a bath. Feeling the rush of water enter my lungs and come up for air.
I went underneath, closing my eyes with a smile on my face, letting the water consume me but I overestimated just how much my lungs could take.
Everything went black and the next time I opened my eyes, I saw Arden.
He stood next to a weeping Devon, which was the last time I’d ever seen her cry, looking scared out of his mind.
His eyes were so wide and bloodshot, it was probably the most afraid I had ever seen him at the time.
Maybe more than when a spider had crawled on him a couple years before, he has arachnophobia. Which was silly, spiders are cute.
“Did I win?” I coughed out, my throat ragged and unable to speak.
“Don’t talk. You shouldn’t,” he said, vibrating with anger. I finally noticed that everyone was watching me and I wanted to crawl into him, their faces were too much. The disappointment and worry on my parents’ face was seared into my brain forever.
That day seems to pop into my head as I submerge in the bath. I know how to hold my breath for longer now, I have a personal record of eight minutes. Swimming is a perfect exercise for ballet and I like being underwater despite what happened that day.
There is something wrong. I can feel myself crumbling and losing pieces of myself day by day.
Somehow, it feels worse than back in secondary school.
The weight of the world feels like it’ll drop on my shoulders and I struggle to repeat the words to anyone.
Bass’ don’t crumble. We aren’t weak. We are the best.
Yet, everyday I want to peel my skin apart, to stop the emptiness cinched to my chest. It is there like a reminder every time. I can’t tell exactly what triggered it; my father? MJ? Or is it just me?
I had once seen the quote ‘A mermaid has no tears and therefore she suffers more.’ Maybe it explained why I liked being underwater so much, I think I cried everyday but the tears weren’t visible to anyone. Destined to live a life of internal suffering that no one would ever fix.
In the midst of my wallowing, I had closed my eyes.
Therefore, when I am pulled up from the bath aggressively.
Harsh taps to the face has my eyes sluggishly peeled itself open, taking in the situation at hand.
A wide eyed Arden, frantic. His hair is in disarray, flopping forward because it is drenched in water, much like his suit.
He keeps asking me if I’m okay, his palms cradling both sides of my face
It feels like deja vu.
A faint laugh left my wet lips.
“Is this funny to you?” His voice is strangely calm, he is angry. I shake my head.
He is still holding me, perhaps scared I’ll plunge myself back under. “I’m fine,” I say it so many times, I am hoping one day I will actually start to feel that. The water has started to cool and it is much colder than I’d like.
Arden looks at the bathtub, which is the size of a small pool then back to me. His breathing finally starts to slow back to normal, he searches my face and a realisation sets in. “You did that on purpose.”
I slowly try to detach myself from his grasp but he refuses to let go. He presses, “Tell me you didn’t do that on purpose.”
My throat feels a little hoarse but I manage to get out, “I didn’t.”
He doesn’t believe me.
“What the fuck is wrong you?” he says sharply, finally releasing me from his hold. He leans back against the wall, looking at me with disbelief on his face.
I can’t stand it. The way he is looking at me. It is like a sting to the chest, so I look away. Then I get up, peeling off my wet dress on to the floor, naked as the day I was born. I leave him sitting there, leaving a trail of water dripping behind me.
???
“Get dressed, we’re going out. And don’t even think about saying no, you don’t get a choice.”
I shrug.
Within thirty minutes we are both in fresh clothing, much more casual than we’d ever usually be in. Both of us are in jeans and matching polo shirts. All black. We look like a couple in mourning, it is very drab.
He walks ahead of me on the phone to someone as I trail behind, hushed rapid voices from both ends. Once we enter the car, I ask.
“Who were you on the phone to?”
“The person who called me, frantic, about your well-being. Your sister.”
My eyes pinch together, whether it is in exhaustion or shame or maybe both, I can’t tell. Neither of us utter a word for the duration of the ride.
We arrive at our location after an hour or so, a secluded building situated in the middle of nowhere, just outside of London, near Reading.
There is a large black gate with security that accompanies the building.
If it isn’t for the greenhouse I can see, I would've been certain we were on a military base.
Arden speaks to the security out front who immediately knows who he is, which has my brows furrowing even further than before. I can’t seem to figure out what we are doing here.
The gates open and we drive in, the second we step out of the car I can’t hold my tongue anymore. “Not to act paranoid that you’re luring me into some dodgy corner to kill me but what are we doing here?”
“You’ll see.”
“Thank you for that non answer.”
He rolls his eyes and stretches out his hand for me to hold, considering I have no choice but to entertain his whims, I latch mine with his and he pulls me close as we move.
Once we enter inside the building, all my fears dissipate.
It is a hospital. I think.
There are beds littered around and what I assume to be nurses tottering up and down. Lest to say, I am even more confused than when we arrived. Looking into one of the rooms we walk by are some kids who look to be in their early teens huddled together with an older man speaking to them.
A middle aged woman who has a phone dangling her hand at reception rises up as soon as we come into view. “Mr Thorne, you’re a little early this month.”
“Apologies, I wanted to show someone around,” he says. I rounded the corner showing my face, giving a smile and a wave. “I would have called but it was a little last minute. Is she awake?”
Who is she ? What would she be doing in a hospital? Many questions plague my mind.
“No problem at all.” The way she says it makes it seem like it is in fact a problem.
“She's in a group session at the minute but they’re wrapping up soon. Won’t be long now, let me take you.
” The lady whose name badge says, Sue, comes round and starts walking and we follow right behind.
Up a flight of stairs, then rounding the corner as we stop in front of another room.
Arden thanks her and then she promptly leaves.
Clutching Arden’s hands, I peek into the room to see it is another group of kids, these look a little older though, I’m guessing late teens. Arden points to a blonde girl who sits there sullen, her head rests on her legs that she has her arms folded around. Is that…
“Dad put Livia in here when she tried to commit suicide,” he softly says. My head whips to him in shock, my face falling immediately. “I found her bleeding against her bathroom floor, wrists sliced open.”
All of a sudden it clicks, “This is what you were arguing with him about in September. There’s no Swiss boarding school.” That was what she had heard from MJ.
He nods, “He put a lot of money into this place so it doesn't get out.” His body stiffens as he speaks, his eyebrow ticks in anger as he continues, “He never shows up to check on her. I hate him. For me but especially for her. You know Livia was nine when mum died, what she remembers of her is fracturing and she holds on to the pieces she can recollect but they are fading away. She took her death just as hard as I did but I think she hates her for dying because she left us alone with him. She hates this place. A free spirit like hers, these walls feel like a cage.”
“Can’t you release her?” I ask gently, watching him as he watches her, my head rests on the wall.
“He’s the only one allowed to. She’s a minor and he’s her legal guardian. No two ways around it.” He looks at me and gives me a sad smile, “But I’m working on it, she’ll be out of here soon. No matter what I have to do.”
A mixture of sadness and determination mars his face and before I can ask what he means, we see the gaggle of teens pack up and head in our direction.
“Dick!” Olivia’s whole face transforms into a bright smile, a complete contrast to earlier.
“I told you to stop calling me that.”