Scarred Souls: The First Collection

by TT Kove

  Once Mum found out, she got a new flat, and everything from my old bedroom was thrown away. All the furniture, all the possessions in my new room are new.

  Still, I hate it.

  When it’s dark out and I’m supposed to be sleeping—I can’t sleep, because I hate being in there alone. It’s like I’m a kid again, afraid the door will open and he will come inside.

  I know he won’t. He’s in prison, so he can’t get anywhere near me.

  Still, I fear it. I fear the nightmares. I know they’ll come if I fall asleep. They always do.

  And they terrify me.

  I cut.

  Not my arms this time, because they’re already cut up pretty badly.

  But I needed to, so I did what I usually do when I can’t cut my arms. I start in on my thighs. They don’t look half as bad as my arms, but I have scars there too. Lots of them.

  I have scars everywhere. But the ones I’ve done myself are mostly on my arms and legs.

  The rest of them… those are the ones I want to forget. Those are the ones I dream about, that wake me up and leave me a terrified mess.

  Eight years isn’t enough for him.

  He did this to me. He broke me.

  I hope he rots.

  I’m going to see him again soon. It’s only a couple hours left until he’s off from work.

  I hope he hasn’t changed his mind. I wouldn’t blame him if he had though.

  I wonder what he’ll say, what he’ll think, when he finds out I’ve cut other places than on my arms. I bet he’s going to think it’s ugly. That I’m ugly.

  Because I am.

  So he realised I’d cut my thighs.

  Of course he did. He’s good at noticing details. Maybe that’s what’ll make him a good surgeon? I suppose that has to be a good quality in a surgeon, after all.

  He didn’t push the issue, though. I could tell from the look on his face when he realised it, because he’d put his hand on my thigh and I’d flinched. He hadn’t done it to seduce me or anything, like other people would’ve done. It had only been a sympathetic pat, because I’d shared some more about my past experiences.

  He’s surprisingly easy to talk to. Even if he isn’t sharing anything, I haven’t got a problem with it.

  Maybe I’m being too trusting. But after two years of intense therapy and hospitalisations I’m getting used to talking about it. Not to mention the trial, where I had to rehash everything, to the last little detail, time and time again.

  But anyway. He realised it, and though it surprised him, he backed off. I’m grateful. He’s seen my arms. He’s seen the worst. Yet I’m not ready for him to see my legs.

  8

  A Little Bit Broken

  Josh

  He let me stay over last night.

  It was nice to sleep with him again. I wasn’t so lucky to have a nightmare free night like the last time, but the nightmares weren’t so bad this time around. I didn’t wake him up with them, anyway.

  I’m staying in his flat until it’s time for my therapy session. I guess I finally have something good to tell Vincent about today. He’ll be happy for me, I know he will.

  I just hope this’ll last.

  I’m not so sure it will.

  Damian

  I left Josh asleep in my bed while I grabbed some clothes and snuck out as quietly as I could.

  Usually I didn’t mind the early shift at the Café, but we’d stayed up late talking, so waking up had been hell.

  I’d just closed my bedroom door and turned to the bathroom when I found myself face-to-face with a stranger.

  ‘Hey,’ he said.

  I blinked, surprised, and managed to mumble a reply. The flat was dark, but not so much so that I couldn’t see him, so I took him in.

  Dark hair, ruffled up by sleep. The tips seemed to be lighter than the rest, but I couldn’t see what colour in the dark. He was tiny, small, and delicate, and frail. Something was smudged around his eyes, and it couldn’t be anything but make-up. He wore skin-tight dark jeans and a just as tight shirt.

  ‘Sorry, I got to dash.’ He passed me with a small smile.

  I glanced after him. He bent over to put on his shoes and the tight jeans stretched even more.

  I turned away and went into the bathroom before he caught me staring at him. It wasn’t like I had an interest in seeing anything, after all.

  Though I wondered who he was. Obviously a one-night-stand of Silver’s, but I’d thought he had a crush on the green-haired bloke I’d seen at the club.

  Silver came out of his bedroom when I was in the kitchen making myself toast for breakfast.

  ‘I met your guest.’ I turned to look at him.

  He blinked.

  ‘Guest?’

  ‘One-off?’

  ‘Oh, right.’ He grinned goofily.

  ‘I thought you had a crush on that green-haired bloke. Chloe’s friend.’ I poured juice in a glass and sat down at the table.

  Silver sat down across me. His fingers drummed against the table.

  ‘It was him. He dyed his hair.’

  I was taken aback by that. But then I hadn’t seen his face up close at the club. I’d been more preoccupied by the green hair.

  ‘Oh. Well, congratulations, I guess?’

  ‘You bet.’ His grin widened. ‘I’m seeing him for lunch.’

  I nodded.

  ‘Good.’ I chewed a piece of toast, mulling over my question. ‘So you shagged him before you even brought him on a date?’

  ‘Since when are you such a romantic?’

  I instantly regretted the question.

  ‘I’m not.’

  ‘Not everyone falls directly into a relationship. Some of us fall directly into bed and then a relationship hopefully follows.’

  Relationship.

  I wasn’t sure that was what Josh and I had. We spent time together, but we hadn’t kissed or anything since the cinema when he’d stormed off. And we definitely weren’t getting naked together.

  Silver laughed.

  ‘You should see your face!’

  ‘What?’ I asked, defensive.

  ‘You looked a bit panicked there, mate.’ He pointed at me.

  ‘I was just thinking about the definition of a relationship. Aren’t your activities last night more along the lines of that definition than Josh and I?’

  Silver started shaking his head before I’d even finished.

  ‘That’s shagging. Not like a relationship at all. It can be a part of a relationship, and it obviously will be for me if I can get him to date me, but it doesn’t have to be. It isn’t for the two of you. It can be, sure, but like I said, it doesn’t have to be.’ He folded his arms over his chest. ‘What’s important is love, respect, and trust.’

  ‘Since when did you become such an expert on relationships?’ I asked grudgingly.

  ‘Since my first relationship. My first and only.’ He sighed, sadness washing over him for a moment. ‘I feel guilty for trying to move on, you know, but it’s time. Kian is…’ He struggled for words. ‘Kian is amazing.’

  ‘I thought you didn’t know him.’

  ‘I don’t. But I will, hopefully. Doesn’t mean he can’t already be amazing. He’s sweet and he’s funny and, I think, a little bit broken like the rest of us.’

  I raised my eyebrows.

  ‘That’s a good thing?’

  Silver nodded.

  ‘People who think everything’s all sun and rainbows are annoying. Life can be shit, life can deal you a shitty hand, but life can still be great. People who think like that have experienced things, but they can still enjoy what life has to give.’

  I chewed on my last piece of toast.

  ‘Like you.’

  Another nod.

  ‘Yeah. Like me.’ There was still a hint of sadness to him. But nothing else could be expected, considering.

  A glance at the clock had me moving.

  ‘I have to go. I’m opening today.’

  ‘See you to
night.’ Silver didn’t move from his chair, just waved lazily as I hurried past him.

  ‘If you see Josh before you leave, tell him I’ll bring take-away home.’

  ‘Will do.’

  It was a slow morning. Tuesday’s tended to be that way.

  I managed the front alone for two hours, and once Spencer came in, we were two people with little to do. It would pick up once lunch came around, but until then I washed every table and the counter just to have something to do.

  I went to check my phone after a while, and saw I had an unread text message from Josh.

  Josh: Mum wants us to have lunch before group. Can I bring her by the Café?

  I stared at it, first wondering why he would even have to ask me that, then realising exactly what it meant. If he brought his mother here for lunch, I would still be here and I would meet her.

  Was I ready to meet his Mum?

  Me: Yeah. Sure.

  What else was I supposed to reply? It probably wouldn’t be so bad. I’d already spoken to her on the phone, after all.

  That didn’t stop me from being a nervous wreck for the next hour.

  Harriet asked me if I was okay when she came in.

  Spencer kept shooting me glances, but he didn’t say anything.

  And then Josh was there. He looked amazing. Well-rested and seemingly in a good mood, if a bit nervous.

  ‘Hey.’

  I wasn’t at the till, but at the edge of the counter, leading out into the rest of the café.

  ‘Hey, you.’

  ‘Have you had your break?’ His eyes were wide and hopeful.

  I shook my head.

  ‘No, not yet. I can take it now? I’ll just go tell Harriet.’

  He nodded enthusiastically.

  ‘That would be great.’ His smile died as he bit down on his lower lip. ‘Uh, also, Grandma tagged along.’

  Great.

  Two family members at the same time. And me, who couldn’t do small talk to save my life.

  I managed a tight smile.

  ‘You can just order. I’ll be out soon.’

  Josh smiled and nodded and darn it… I liked it when he smiled.

  I went into the kitchen where Harriet was conversing with the chef. The lunch rush hadn’t started yet, so I didn’t think it would be a problem for me to take my lunch break now.

  Harriet’s green eyes slid over to me.

  ‘Damian?’

  ‘You mind if I take my break now? There’s someone I know out there, and well… yeah.’ I wasn’t sure if I wanted her to deny me or not.

  ‘Sure. Make yourself something to eat if you want.’ She smiled, always in a good mood and as friendly as ever.

  I was too nervous to eat, so I opted out of food.

  Instead I inched towards the door, and once I reached it, I peered outside. I could see the back of Josh’s blond head, and he was accompanied by a woman looking so much like him she couldn’t possibly be anyone but his mother. The other woman was older, with white hair, but I would guess she used to be blonde too because she looked like an older, more wrinkled version of her daughter.

  These were two of the most important people in Josh’s life. And he wanted me to meet them.

  Me.

  I certainly wouldn’t live up to any kind of expectations.

  ‘Aren’t you going on your break?’ Harriet came up behind me.

  ‘Are you sure it’s okay?’ I chewed on my lower lip, eyes still gazing at Josh.

  ‘I can say no, but that would be a lie.’

  Josh turned around in that moment and our eyes met.

  I was drawn to him. When he looked at me now, I couldn’t possibly back out.

  ‘No, it’s okay.’ I walked over and Josh smiled up at me. ‘Hey.’

  ‘Hey, you,’ he repeated my earlier greeting back at me, causing me to smile too, a much more genuine one than the smile I’d given him earlier.

  I couldn’t get over how beautiful he was when he smiled. His whole face lit up. He should do it more often.

  A lot more often.

  I could feel eyes on me and nervously glanced around.

  ‘This is my mum, Angelina,’ Josh motioned to the stern-looking blonde woman. ‘And my grandmother, Emily. Mum, Grandma, this is Damian. ‘

  ‘Hey.’ I shook both their hands.

  They mimicked my greeting.

  I took the seat next to Josh and now threw a nervous glance his way. I had no idea what else to say.

  He seemed a bit lost too.

  A hand touched my sleeve and I instinctually flinched just a little bit.

  Josh’s mum looked at me.

  ‘Thank you, Damian. For the other night.’

  I nodded.

  ‘No problem.’

  Spencer came with their lunch before anyone could say anything else.

  ‘Enjoy your food.’ He turned his head to Josh. ‘Hi.’

  ‘Hey, Spencer.’

  Spencer walked off with a nod.

  I glanced from his back to Josh in question.

  ‘I met him on Sunday,’ Josh said. ‘He and Leslie. They’re cute together.’

  ‘What?’

  He stared at me.

  ‘They’re together. You didn’t know that?’

  I shook my head slowly.

  Spencer and Leslie, together? I’d never seen evidence of that. Not that I looked at them much or took notice of their behaviour.

  ‘They are, you know.’ He seemed to be more amused than anything.

  ‘I’ll take your word for it.’ I, on the other hand, was a bit embarrassed.

  Josh chuckled.

  ‘I’ve met them once. You’ve worked with them for, what was it, two years? And you never realised?’

  I shook my head again.

  ‘They’re not my friends.’

  A smile spread on his lips. He bowed his head with another chuckle.

  I’m glad he was amused, even if it was because of me. Whatever made him smile.

  ‘So, Damian, do you have any family?’ It was Josh’s grandma—Emily?—who spoke.

  ‘Aunt and uncle, two younger cousins and my aunt’s sister, though she’s not actually blood related.’ I hadn’t spoken to Chloe since we’d gone to that club. Silver must’ve been effective in bribing her, seeing as he’d managed to get Kian home with him yesterday.

  ‘No parents?’ She asked, surprised.

  ‘No.’ It was a short, curt answer, but I didn’t want to talk about my parents. Not even in passing.

  She seemed to understand. She backed off, anyway.

  ‘Damian’s starting medical school soon,’ Josh said, changing the subject.

  I hoped he understood my gratitude from the lingering look I gave him.

  ‘Which one?’ Josh’s mother, Angelina, asked.

  ‘UCL.’

  She nodded to herself.

  ‘Impressive. You must’ve had good grades to get into it. It’s a good programme.’

  ‘Top grades all over,’ I murmured, hating to admit it since it might sound like I was bragging. I wasn’t, not at all. It was just a state of fact. I was great at school.

  Not so much at anything else. Especially anything that required being sociable.

  I would try though. Because these two women were Josh’s family and, even if we had only just met, Josh was important to me.

  Josh

  Once again I was early for group, and once again only Mal was there.

  ‘Hey, Mal.’ I sat down next to him, like I had last week.

  ‘Hey,’ he muttered. He seemed to be in a better mood today. He wasn’t hunched over, hiding his face or had his arms in his big hooded jumper, anyway.

  ‘How are you?’

  He shrugged.

  ‘Like usual.’

  I knew what he meant by that. Upside to having the same diagnosis was I could understand what he went through too. Mind and emotions a mess, every single minute of every single day.

  Lunch had been good though.

  M
y mood had stayed rather upbeat through it.

  It had been awkward introducing Damian to Mum and Grandma, but at least it was done now. Out in the open. And he’d done it. He’d met them, which had to mean something.

  Something good, for us.

  ‘You seem to be in high spirits.’

  I turned to face him.

  That was the most I’d ever heard him say outside of when he spoke in group, and that wasn’t very often compared to the rest of us.

  ‘I’ve met someone.’ I hadn’t shared it in group last week, because then we’d just met and everything had been rocky. But now… things were good. I could share it now, both with Mal and with the rest of them. ‘He’s wonderful.’

  Mal’s lips hitched up into a small, sad smile. He turned his head down so I couldn’t see his face anymore.

  ‘You’re lucky. You deserve it.’

  ‘I don’t know about that.’ Deserving or non-deserving… I hadn’t done anything worth getting as lucky as I’d been by meeting him.

  But I was going to take what I could get.

  ‘You’re lucky you can,’ he elaborated.

  I frowned.

  Out of everyone in group, Mal had the worst story.

  I was on a good number two. Ten years of abuse and a severe mental illness because of it justified that place.

  But Mal… His story was so much worse than mine. It hadn’t been his stepfather who’d abused him. It had been his mother and his brother… and no one had done anything until it had been too late, until he’d been so beaten and broken it was impossible to rise up from it, to heal from it.

  I hadn’t seen the extent of Mal’s cutting, but I knew he took it further than me. I knew he didn’t just cut his arms and thighs, but that his entire chest was subjected to a razor, as well as everything else on his body he could reach.

  At least that was what he’d shared with us in group. There wasn’t any reason to doubt it.

  Part of me was fascinated, so fascinated I wanted to see how Mal looked underneath those clothes, how much more damage he’d done to himself than I had. The other part was horrified.