Live Me

by Celeste Grande

  Flipping the switch in the bathroom, I avoided looking in the mirror. My hair felt thick with substance and caked together, and there was a deep ache in my cheekbone. I laid my palm over that spot and buried the memory.

  Cupping my hands under a stream of cold water, I took a gulp before splashing it over my face and neck.

  Without making a sound, I tucked my hair behind my ear and peeked through the door leading to the hall. Blake looked distraught as his arms flailed, pointing in the direction of my room. I pulled my hood over my head and tried to blend into the bustle of people. Moving in the opposite direction, I squeezed myself as small as possible. The ache in my stomach throbbed as I straightened, attempting to appear like a regular passerby.

  A commotion ensued behind me, and I peeked over my shoulder just as Blake pushed past a guard and barreled into my empty room. “Where is she?” His voice was faint in the distance, but the weight it held was heard all the same. I worked through the pain and quickened my steps.

  Once outside, I used the concrete wall as support and any sturdy structure that could aid me. Searching the streets, my heart sank. I felt so lost. The first place Blake would look for me would be my apartment.

  As they had so many times before, my legs took me where I needed to be, and a few minutes later, I dropped to my knees at Bertha’s feet and stared up at her. The break of day had just started poking through the bleak sky, and she looked solemn as she peered down at me.

  I quirked the side of my mouth, drew my coat tighter, and resumed the fetal position, curling in as small as my skin would allow. I wanted to melt into her bark.

  I hadn’t realized I’d dozed off until the sound of a twig snapping jarred me awake. The sun was only slightly more pronounced so it couldn’t have been long.

  Blake.

  My eyes trailed from the sad orbs of his, past his heaving chest, down to the flicker of gold dangling from his loose fingers.

  I closed my eyes and picked through all of the people inside me, looking for one who could handle this, but I came up empty. Seems they’d all fallen for this man as hard as I had.

  When my eyes reopened, they were blank, not really meeting any part of him.

  “Running again?”

  When I didn’t answer, he continued, “You want to tell me what happened?” His voice was calm but the crack in it exposed his desperation.

  I rolled my body to a sitting position and shrugged. “I had too much to drink. I guess I didn’t eat enough today.” I focused on the grass beside his foot, not wanting him to see the lie in my eyes.

  “Bullshit.”

  My head snapped up at his abruptness. His jaw was tense as his eyes bore into mine. I pulled from deep inside myself, calling each piece to the forefront to gather my strength, and I stood to face him. Setting my chin in defiance, I crossed my arms over my chest.

  “I’m going to ask you again. What. Happened. To. You? I can’t help you if you hide from me.” His tone was firm, but I knew him well enough to hear the melancholy laced through each word.

  “Help me?” I scoffed. “We’ve been through this, Blake. You can’t help me. I thought for a while maybe you could, but you just can’t. So do yourself a favor and cut your losses now. Walk away. I told you, I’m no good for you.”

  Blake narrowed his eyes at me, acting as though I hadn’t spoken. “Who hurt you?”

  Damon’s gritted teeth flashed in front of me, and I shook my head. “No one. You’re being ridiculous.”

  “There’s a fucking bruise on your face, Eva. Do you think I’m stupid? Stop shutting me out!”

  Caught off guard, I reached the tips of my fingers to the sore spot. My voice lost its muster. “I fell. You found me on the floor, remember?”

  “I’ll never forget.” Blake looked far away for a moment and then brought himself back to reality. He lifted his fist. “You lost something.”

  My eyes fell on my necklace. “No. I left something.”

  I took a deep breath, bit down on the pieces of me screaming to stop, and made the statement that would change the rest of my life. “We’re over, Blake. I was acting like a silly schoolgirl leading you on and it was selfish of me. I’m sorry, but you need to go. Just forget me.”

  His body stiffened, but he didn’t move. I saw him clamp down on his resolve to see this through, and I admired his fortitude, though it snuck some extra sadness into my heart.

  Maybe this didn’t have to end . . .

  My mind started weaving a tale in my head. Then I remembered what a life by my side would entail for him. I had to save him from that.

  I found a new piece of me, one that clearly didn’t belong, and I tugged on her and begged her to take this burden.

  Blake’s eyes softened. “I can’t forget you, Angel. I told you that a long time ago. Second chances, remember? I won’t let you forget, either. What happened to you was terrible. It’s fucking horrible. But you have a choice. It’s up to you now. You can throw away what we have and remain a slave to your past, or you can move forward. With me. What do you choose?”

  Feeling my walls slam down around me, I lifted my chin, my face a sheet of stone. Through gritted teeth, I bit out, “I never had a choice. Now go. The fuck. Away.”

  He shook his head slowly, determined. “I know you don’t really want that.”

  I laughed, my insides balling up in frustration. “What don’t you get? I don’t want you anymore! We’re done!” I screamed through the slicing pain in my throat.

  Never one to give up, Blake pushed further. His tone was strong, conveying his unrelenting pursuit. “Do your worst, Angel. But I’m not going anywhere. I know you’re only trying to break me. It’s not working. You’re gonna talk to me and let me in and that’s it.”

  I slapped him across the face.

  His head barely flinched but for the tightening of his jaw.

  I punched him in the chest.

  Still no movement.

  Heat bubbled up my neck as every emotion poured out through my fists, tears exploding from my eyes as I let it all go, bashing at him as if he was the one who had wrecked me.

  And he stood, stoic, unaffected and unmoving, despite my efforts to hurt him. Harming him was the last thing I wanted to do, but I couldn’t control my rage. I hurt so much. On my insides. I needed the poison out.

  “Just go away! Leave me alone! I was fine before you. I was numb! I don’t want to feel. What’re you trying to do to me?” I cried so hard, the violent jolts were hurting my recently pumped insides.

  He grabbed my wrists, stopping the assault. In a voice so calm I almost didn’t hear it, Blake said, “Love you. That’s all, Angel. I just want to love you. Every piece of you. Even the broken ones.”

  I crumpled into him then, my legs unable to hold the weight anymore, and I sobbed and sobbed, feeling wetness pool on his jacket beneath my cheeks.

  He grabbed my upper arms and peeled me back. “You just don’t get it, do you? I don’t just love you. I’m living you! My heart beats you. My lungs breathe you. You’re in my fucking veins!” He released me and raked his nails up his forearm.

  “You’re here.” He jabbed two fingers into his temples. “And here.” He scaled his neck with his nails. “And here.” He pounded his fist against his chest. “You’re everywhere! I feel you there. Like a whisper on my fucking soul.” He lowered his voice and looked away from me. “I never knew a whisper could be so loud.”

  With more gumption, he turned back to me. “But you’re always there. And you always will be. You’re part of my makeup now. My me. Let me be your you.” He took my face between his hands, searching my eyes. “I’ll be strong for you. Live me, baby. Live for me. Please.” His voice broke with that final plea, setting free a fresh stream of tears.

  I covered his hands with mine and pressed my lips to his, committing their feel to memory. Tasted the sweet, wet saltiness resting between them, unsure if it was mine or his. Savoring all of him, I inhaled the smell of his skin. Of my Blake. I needed to
keep this forever. I spoke with closed eyes. “I can’t even live for me, Blake. You can’t expect me to live for you.”

  Cool air replaced the soft feel of his mouth, and I opened my eyes.

  “Angel, please.” The crack in his voice did the same to my heart, but I swallowed down the ache and backed away from him, forcing his arms to drop to his sides.

  “You said whatever I need, right?”

  “Whatever you need. Just tell me and I’ll do it.”

  Knowing it was the only way he’d listen, I took whatever strength I had left and turned cold, rigid. “Right now . . . I need you to leave.”

  “Angel, I’m begging you. Don’t do this. Do you realize what you’re doing? This is number three. There’s no coming back from this.”

  Bug out strike three. I’d reached my quota with him.

  When I didn’t answer, he continued, “You’re really gonna turn your back on me? Throw me away like I meant nothing to you?”

  The hurt in his eyes stung deep in my heart, but I was done. Done pretending I was something I wasn’t. Done trying to be something I couldn’t. I stood up straighter. “I already have. Go away, Blake. I have nothing left to give you.”

  Something in him changed then, and I watched Blake’s own gates come down, shielding him from me. From my demons. He tucked the necklace into his pocket and put his hands in the air, backing away one step at a time, his eyes never straying from mine. There was a small glimmer of hope showing through those gates, but mine held none.

  A few yards away, he dropped his hands. His eyes emptied when he realized I wasn’t going to stop him. He shook his head before letting a disapproving, clipped laugh escape those beautiful lips. “Fine, Angel. Whatever you need.”

  He turned and never looked back.

  Reaching up and around my neck, the demons came to demand their right to me then, groping every inch of my being.

  Claiming me.

  Consuming me.

  Tormented and grunting they pawed at my flesh, dragging me into the deepest, darkest depths of my soul. To join them as a fallen angel.

  And I didn’t fight them. Couldn’t. It was where I was meant to be all along, Blake’s name for me a sarcastic irony.

  Every pore in my body opened, each nerve ending flailing in a fit of fire. Pieces of me crumbled as each cell shut down, breaking apart as if they were riddled with a virus. Whether or not it would result in death was irrelevant—I was dying. My heart gone. There was no more gray area. No more bubble. Only blackness.

  My knees hit the dirt, and the world turned into a veil of darkness.

  And everywhere that Mary went that lamb was sure to go . . .

  The End . . .

  For now

  Stay tuned for the conclusion coming 2016!

  Approximately 4 out of 5 of assaults are committed by someone known to the victim. 68% of sexual assaults are not reported to the police. 44% of the victims are under the age of 18.

  82% of sexual assaults are perpetrated by a non-stranger

  47% of rapists are a friend or acquaintance.

  25% are an intimate.

  5% are a relative.

  Source: https://www.rainn.org/statistics, U.S. Department of Justice, National Crime Victimization Study: 2009–2013.

  Sexual abuse can happen behind closed doors or in plain sight and can start from the littlest of children to the oldest of adults. It’s debilitating and degrading and can cause the most helpless of feelings in the strongest of people.

  There is help.

  If you are being abused, or suspect someone you know is being abused, please seek help:

  Rape, Abuse, and Incest National Network

  National Sexual Assault Hotline ~ 1–800–656-HOPE

  National Sexual Assault Online Hotline ~ www.ohl.rainn.org/online/

  Visit http://www.rainn.org to find more information and resources.

  I bled years of myself into this book. Years. This was not a quick write by any means. So much time away from my family, not being present while my body was. A house left to self-destruct and family members that felt neglected. I know at times you didn’t understand, but hopefully after reading this you do. These characters swarmed my brain, consuming it until I had every last bit of their story on paper. They wanted out. Needed to be heard. I love you all so much. For your constant support even when you didn’t know what was going on.

  So many will see pieces of themselves in this book. You all mean so much to me and I tried to incorporate as much of each of you as possible.

  I need to begin these where this journey truly started. With a phone call. My friend Jessica on the other end who said, “I’ve been dying to tell you something. I wrote a book!” To which I told her, “Oh my God, I’ve always wanted to write a book. But how?” She took my hand in guidance and has been dragging me along ever since. She since has put out six books in less than two years and you now know her as the remarkable Faith Andrews.

  I love you, Jes. For real. NONE of this would be happening if it weren’t for you. I will forever be grateful you gave me the outlet to express myself and explore this side of me. In your words, “Stop making love to it (the book) and just fuck it hard!” LOL. Wise words, my friend. I tried. Thank you for brainstorming with me and helping me birth Blake and Eva and then patting me on the bottom and saying, “Now, go!” A million thank yous.

  Since that phone call, I’ve raised a newborn turned toddler while continuing to work as a Certified Public Accountant and running my own accounting business, all the while keeping my story and my new friends on the front burner. It’s consumed me. In my wildest dreams, I never would’ve thought this possible. During the last year, I added pregnancy and the birth of another child to the mix. So, it’s been a whirlwind of events for sure.

  Back story is, when I was younger, a street palm reader once called out to me as an afterthought, “Oh, and you’re going to write a book.” Interesting, I thought. I wonder what kind.

  Enter a second psychic (this one after I began writing) who told me that this was my calling and that I should in no way be shoved into a cubicle with a boring job all day long. That I needed to be doing something creative. He said “I want you to hate it (my job) so much that you make the writer happy.” He was hell bent on it and brought it up repeatedly during our one hour session.

  He died exactly a week later.

  I was sure there was a reason I got to see that insightful man and I will forever be grateful for his encouragement and his push. Many New Yorkers know him as Raymond Pero and he truly had a talent. I really feel he delivered a message I was meant to hear, as my appointment with him was moved up due to a cancellation. Had it not been, I never would have had the privilege. So my determination grew further. I was getting this book out if it killed me.

  And it almost did.

  Three years. Yes, you heard me right. Where most get a book out in three months, I bled every word of this book from my veins. I really hope you connected with my babies and enjoyed them. Which brings be to my next round of thank yous. You. If you are reading these words, then I am grateful to you. If it wasn’t for you, Blake and Eva would be talking to themselves. Trapped souls in Neverland. I’m grateful for every one of you.

  Now, on to my superstars.

  To my loving husband, Fred and son, Christian. I can’t even tell you how much I appreciate your part in all this. What part you ask? You let me do it. So many do not have that privilege. Instead of being met by a brick wall, I was given the freedom to work on what I had to work on whenever and as often as needed. I was encouraged and left to be. That is more priceless than you know. Thank you for always having my back. For loving me when I’m “not there”, and managing to not take it personal. So much of this comes from having a strong support system and you have made mine rock solid. I love you more than I can ever sum up in a little paragraph.

  To the reason I am. My parents. From day one (literally) you’ve supported me. Always. You truly believed I could be any
thing and do anything I wanted , and here it is. The proof. I think you always knew I had something inside. Thank you for always taking any idea I had seriously. For never crushing my dreams and goals and standing by my side as I saw them through. No matter what they were. I’m a stronger person because of that.

  And to ALL of you (my immediate family), stop holding us all in New York and let’s move already so I have more time to write these! (Ahem, Alli). Alli and Tracy, thanks for always having my back. You’re always the first to hold up your pom poms and push me along, believing in me as much as mommy and daddy. I love you guys and I hope that after reading this, you finally “get it”. “Chance made us sisters, hearts made us friends.”

  To Joseph Anthony Crecco (E), (yes, I needed the world to know where Jace’s name came from). Though he’s not an exact replica, there would be no Jace without you. I know you’re not his biggest fan, wanting me to change a lot of him because you couldn’t see yourself, but he’s PERFECT and the FIRST person anyone who reads this book says they love. So hush, lol. He’s amazing. You’re the Will to my Grace and I love you in my guts. Thank you for you. (And for him.)

  Daniel Dash-Montera, “Yazzzz!” There’s a little bit of you in Jace, too. Perhaps a whole lot. I mean the boy is fabulous. Without you, there’d be no yazzz. Thank you, my amazingly talented friend.

  Kelly Siskind! Girl! My sister CP. They say you never forget your first. You’ve secured a piece of my heart, love. From your brutal truths to your unrelenting willingness to help me in my time of need and talk me off a ledge, your friendship means everything to me. And can I just say I’m so proud of you! Look at us!! What you’ve become from the time we met to now amazes me. I am grateful for you and humbled by you.

  Faith Andrews, though you didn’t make it to the end, your CP work with Live Me was priceless. You taught me the rules and the ropes and weeded through my garbage. I’m a time consuming, slow, wordy bitch (the opposite of you) so I commend you, lol. Thank you for molding me.