Crying Out Silent

by Marita A. Hansen

  I ran the rest of the way to the beach, trying to stifle the rage I was feeling through burning my lungs. As I crossed the road and ran over the grass embankment to the beach, my thoughts turned to the sea. To the one good thing in my life. It always calmed me down, allowing me to breathe in a world drowning in violence. Maybe if I swam out far enough, so far that I couldn’t get back to shore, I could douse the burn inside of me, drowning both my body and mind, taking away the violence that had been thrust inside of me. If anything, I should’ve drowned three years ago at Baylys Beach. I’d been thirteen at the time, caught in a rip while out surfing. I’d feared the sea back then, had clung onto my surfboard while frantically signalling for my uncle. He’d swam out to me, pulling me back in. I would’ve definitely drowned if he hadn’t come for me, which meant my mum would’ve lived. I wondered whether he would’ve saved me if he knew that. He wouldn’t have lost his younger sister if he’d just left me to drift away. I wished he had, because I wouldn’t have these fucking memories of my mother dying in my head, making me want to scream—like I’d screamed that day...

  I screamed as pain ripped into me from below, yanking me back into consciousness. Chaz pushed my face into the pillow, stifling my cries. I struggled against him, desperate for breath, but none came. I blacked out, pain soon waking me up again. Chaz was grunting on top of me. I begged for him to stop, but he didn’t, he just kept on going, fucking both my body and mind. I blacked out again. But this time it was yelling that brought me back. Chaz was no longer on top of me. Mum was attacking him with a knife, then the knife was in Chaz’s hand—

  I yelled out, screaming for the memory to stop, to not see that knife plunge into my mother’s chest. To not see her body dropping to the floor. I screamed until I was hoarse, and then I was sobbing. I covered my face, just wanting to die. Needing to die.

  A different cry broke through my torment, lapping at the corners of my mind like the waves lapping at the shore, pulling me out of my suicidal thoughts. I dropped my hands, wondering whether it was a seagull. I looked up at the sky, but there were no birds in sight. The cry came again, so faint I almost didn’t hear it. I let it draw me in, my ears directing me over to the large microcarpa tree, expecting to see a cat or a small dog, whining for its owner. But instead of finding someone’s lost puppy, there were a pair of skinny legs sticking out from behind the wide trunk of the tree. I stepped around it, finding Llewellyn beneath the gnarled branches, shaded by the canopy of leaves.

  “I’ve been looking for you—” I stopped talking, noticing he had... My eyes widened at his slit-open wrist, a piece of broken glass in his other hand. He was lying there almost lifeless, until another soft cry left his mouth.

  In the blink of an eye I had my shirt off, wrapping it around his wrist, desperate to stop the bleeding, terrified he was close to death. Once it was tied securely, I picked him up, resting him against my chest, his eyes fluttering open upon contact. He stared up at me, looking like he wasn’t seeing me, his eyes glazed over.

  I didn’t waste any time, half-walking and half-running over the grass embankment, Llewellyn weighing practically nothing in my arms. “Stay awake, Louie,” I begged him, heading for the first house. “Please stay awake.”

  He didn’t respond, just kept staring up at me with those glazed eyes.

  I approached the first house, almost stumbling over the front steps. I righted myself in time and started kicking at the front door, yelling out for help. When no one answered, I went to the next house, getting more and more worked up as Llewellyn’s eyes drifted shut.

  I yelled out, “Help!”

  To my relief someone answered, a teenage girl holding a baby. Her eyes went to Llewellyn lying limply in my arms, his blood already seeping through the material of my shirt. She hollered, “Mum!” then slammed the door shut in my face.

  I kicked it, screaming, “Help me! Bloody help me!”

  A few seconds later the door swung open again, an older version of the girl now standing before me. The woman looked like a fat pit bull, scary as hell, but not as scary as the lifeless boy I was clutching to my bare chest.

  “Oh my God! Come on, come in,” the woman said, stepping aside.

  I stepped through the doorway and went for the couch, laying Llewellyn down on it. He didn’t move or react, but at least he’d reopened his eyes. I sat down next to him, terrified he was going to die. I didn’t understand why he’d tried to top himself, because it should’ve been me lying there with my wrist slashed open—or sinking to the bottom of the sea. And it might’ve happened if he hadn’t distracted me from my suicidal thoughts, hadn’t tried to kill himself before I could do the same.

  The woman came back with a phone in hand, jabbering things I couldn’t take in, everything that had happened today too much.

  After what seemed like forever, the ambulance arrived. The medics entered the house, practically prying me away from Llewellyn. I hadn’t realised I’d had my hand clamped around his wrist, his blood now painting my palm.

  The medics transported him to the ambulance on a stretcher, allowing me to get into the back with him. I settled down next to Llewellyn, instantly latching onto one of his hands, holding it like it could anchor him to this world. It was so small, like a child’s hand in an adult’s one. I gave it a squeeze, hoping he knew it was me, his eyes now closed.

  The medic on the other side of the gurney started firing off questions, all of which I couldn’t answer. He stopped and moved around to my side, putting a blanket over my shoulders. At that point, I realised I was shaking. The man started talking softly to me, his words not important, just his tone, because it made me feel less panicked.

  After we arrived at the hospital, I followed the medics inside, shadowing them as they rolled Llewellyn on a gurney down a corridor. He was taken to a room I wasn’t allowed in. A nurse directed me to a chair in the waiting room, asking me Llewellyn’s name. I pulled the blanket further around me, mumbling a reply, my anxiety growing worse as she continued asking questions, how close she was sitting not helping. She eventually gave up and left, allowing me to breathe easier. I remained in that seat until another nurse came out, asking if I was here for Llewellyn. I nodded. She gave me a bright smile, telling me he was going to be all right.

  “Can I see him?” I asked, pushing to my feet.

  “Of course,” she said and led me to his room. Llewellyn was hooked up to long tube-like cords, looking as white as the sheets covering him. He was also sleeping, probably sedated. The nurse left, leaving me with Llewellyn and a male nurse, who was busy looking at a monitor.

  His gaze shifted to me as I sat down next to Llewellyn’s bed. “Are you the boy who found Llewellyn?” he asked, watching as I took hold of Llewellyn’s hand.

  Feeling self-conscious, I let go, fiddling with the blanket around me, still shirtless underneath. “Yes.”

  The nurse gave me a soft smile. He was youngish, mid to late twenties at a guess, and with dark brown hair that was slicked back, his parting perfect. “Well, he’s alive because of you,” he said.

  I screwed my eyes shut, just the thought of Llewellyn dying causing me to shake, the enormity of what had happened getting to me. If I hadn’t left the intervention, hadn’t thought about Llewellyn, he would be dead.

  Footsteps approached me, making me open my eyes.

  The nurse bobbed down in front of me as though I was a child who needed a bandage on a sore knee. “He’ll be all right,” he said, smiling up at me with kind blue eyes.

  “How do you know that?” I choked out. “He tried to kill himself. He’s not all right in ’ere,” I said, tapping my head. “Like me.”

  The nurse’s face went serious. “Did you two make a suicide pact? Is that why you got him help in time? You changed your mind?”

  “No,” I said, dropping my gaze. “I don’t want him dead.”

  “What about you? Do you want to be dead?”

  I didn’t reply.

  “What’s your name?”

/>   I kept my mouth shut, knowing I’d said too much already, the man a stranger. Though, it wasn’t as if I could speak to my family either, only my counsellor ever getting anything out of me.

  The nurse placed a hand on my knee, causing me to jerk it away. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m just concerned about you. Is anyone helping you? Are you seeing a psychologist or a psychiatrist, or both?”

  “A counsellor. She’s helping me fine,” I partially lied, the counsellor part true, the helping bit not so much, but I was more concerned with getting him off my case than spilling my life story.

  He continued, “Are you two being bullied for being boyfriends?”

  I tensed. “No! I’m not gay and he’s half girl, so I wouldn’t be gay even if I did go out with him, I mean her, whatever.”

  “What do you mean by half girl?”

  “Intersex. Llewellyn’s both a he and a she, and he’s just a friend, and I’m not bein’ bullied. He isn’t either, no, he is,” I babbled, all of a sudden unable to stop from talking. “I think sumpthin’ happened at school today, pro’bly with this prick called Ant, but I’m not sure what cos I wuzn’t there. There wuz this intervention my whanau did for me. I took off, just wanting to be with Llewellyn. I-I-I found him-him—”

  “Ssh,” the nurse said, “calm down, he’s going to be fine.”

  I nodded and took a deep breath in, which ended in a hiccup.

  He smiled at me softly. “How about I go get you a drink while you wait here with Llewellyn?”

  I nodded, grateful he wasn’t kicking me out.

  He gave me another smile before heading out the door. I turned to Llewellyn, shifting closer to him. He looked even more like a porcelain doll asleep, so pale and fragile, easily broken, yet so fucking sweet to look at that I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed it months ago. At the beach, after I’d touched him in the water, it was the first time I’d really seen him. The first time I’d seen a girl and not a boy. Or more accurately, I saw Llewellyn.

  “Why did you try to kill yourself?” I asked. “What made you do it today, at the place we went to? Wuz it cos I brushed you off, or wuz it to do with Ant?”

  I paused for a breath, not expecting him to reply, just needing to get my thoughts out before they exploded in my head.

  “If it wuz cos of me, you shouldn’t have,” I continued, feeling guilty, hoping like hell I wasn’t the final straw for him. “I’m not that important. You’re more important than me. You have a mum who loves you. I saw her. She wuz upset that you ran off. You shouldn’t top yourself when you have a mum.” My mind went to my mum, to the way she’d cried in the kitchen over Dante. “You shouldn’t ever make mums cry; they’d die for you.”

  My breathing grew heavier at that thought, fully aware that mine had died for me.

  “My mum tried to stop my...” I choked out a sob. “She tried to stop my stepdad from hurting me. He stabbed her, took her from me.” I lowered my head to Llewellyn’s shoulder, pressing my face against it. “You shouldn’t make mums cry.”

  Footsteps entered the room, making me jerk my head back. I looked over my shoulder at the nurse, who was holding a polystyrene cup. He walked over to me, placing the cup on the bedside cabinet. He gave me a sad smile then was gone, leaving me alone with Llewellyn once more. I wondered whether he thought I’d lied about not being Llewellyn’s boyfriend, and for the first time I didn’t care. Didn’t even care if he thought I was gay. I knew what I was and I knew what Llewellyn was.

  My friend.

  I looked back at Llewellyn, thinking the world needed more people as sweet as him. I needed him.

  I rested my head against his shoulder again and placed an arm over his chest, no longer caring what people thought, just wanting to be there for my friend.

  A voice caused me to jerk up, the sound appearing out of the blue, making me wonder whether I’d fallen asleep. I turned my head, seeing Llewellyn’s mother and sister rushing towards the bed. Llewellyn’s mother burst into tears as soon as her gaze fell on her son. Llewellyn’s sister appeared just as stricken. She went to Llewellyn’s other side, looking like she didn’t know whether to hug him or not, probably scared of hurting him.

  “What happened?” Mrs. Davies asked, drawing my attention away from Llewellyn’s sister.

  “I found him at the beach with a slit wrist.”

  She started sobbing full out, no barriers, just raw emotion, making tears fill my own eyes.

  “Why?” Llewellyn’s sister choked out. “Why would Louie do that?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “It doesn’t matter, you saved him. Thank you so much.” She rushed around the bed, looking like she was going to hug me.

  Panicked, I jumped up, knocking my chair back. “Don’t touch me!” I barked, holding my hands out.

  She stopped dead, my reaction stunning her for a moment. Then she was back to thanking me, her face flushed with gratitude. The snide girl I’d seen the day before was nowhere in sight, replaced by a loving sister. She made me think of all the people who loved me. When I’d woken up from my stepfather’s attack, Hunter had been there for me, my grandmother too. Others had also come to visit, my life as important to them as Llewellyn’s was to his own family.

  Llewellyn’s mother went to his other side. She took hold of his hand and bent over, placing a kiss on his forehead, reminding me of how Hunter had done the same to me when he’d thought I was asleep.

  ‘I love you, son,’ he’d said. ‘Love you so much.’

  Guilt cleaved at my heart, making me feel like the biggest arsehole for being such a nasty cunt to him at the intervention. He loved me, that’s why he did it. Not to embarrass me, but so I didn’t end up lying on a hospital bed like Llewellyn.

  Feeling suffocated by my emotions, I excused myself, getting away as fast as I could. I headed down the corridor, not knowing where I was going, just needing to walk out my guilt at upsetting Hunter and Tiana, because I’d upset her just as much, if not more. But I still didn’t want to return home, not just yet, my mind too wound up with Llewellyn. I wanted to go back to him after his family had left, making sure he was all right, that he didn’t wake up alone.

  I continued down the corridor, finally stopping at a vending machine. I fumbled in my pocket for some coins, slotting them into the machine to get a Coke, my hand shaking like crazy. The can dropped to the bottom with a loud clunk. I removed it and turned around, jumping at the sight of Jenna standing in front of me.

  “Shit!” I said, almost dropping the can. “What the fuck, Jenna, are you stalking me?”

  Her eyes widened. “No! I didn’t know you’d be here.”

  I frowned, just noticing how drawn she looked. Her eyes were also shiny with unshed tears. “Why are you ’ere?” I asked.

  “Visiting Kelley. I didn’t wanna go back to school, so I got Marko to drop me off here instead.”

  “Why are you visiting Kelley? You’re the one who got her hurt.”

  “That’s why I’m here!” she yelled, making me jolt.

  People in the waiting room stopped talking, but she seemed oblivious to them, her sole focus on me.

  “Don’t you understand?” she choked out. “I have to make this right.”

  “Okay,” I said, although I didn’t understand at all. I’d thought she hated Kelley. Or maybe she didn’t really hate Kelley, because I knew what true hate was and no empathy went with it, like how I felt about my stepfather. If he was lying paralyzed because of me there would be no tears, and the only reason I’d visit him was so I could stab him the same way as he’d stabbed my mother.

  “Where is Kelley?” I asked, thinking I should visit her too. She’d been a sort of friend, the type you made briefly, sharing a moment in time before moving on.

  Jenna pointed to a corridor behind me. “Room 332.”

  “How is she?”

  “Not good. She can’t do anything from the waist down.”

  “She gonna recover?”

  Jenna bit her l
ip and shook her head, looking like she was forcing herself not to cry.

  “At all?”

  “As far as I know it’s permanent.”

  “I’ll go see her then. You coming?”

  She shook her head again. “She ignores me every time I visit, doesn’t even look at me, though her mum told me that Kelley won’t talk to anyone, even her.”

  “Llewellyn said she spoke to him.”

  Anger flashed across her face. “Why is it always Llewellyn?” she snapped. “What is it about him that makes you and Kelley talk to him? What does he hold over you?”

  “Nuthin’.”

  “Then why are you so wrapped up in him? How could you blow off your friends, your best mate, for someone I’ve hardly seen you with?”

  “Llewellyn gets me.”

  “How? ’Cause I wanna get you too, and not just as a boyfriend. I wanna understand you so bad, Ash. What does Llewellyn have that I don’t? Why are you and Ant so fascinated by him? Why would Kelley talk to him and not anyone else? What is it, please tell me ’cause it’s driving me insane.”

  I didn’t reply, not quite fully understanding it either.

  “Why are you here anyway?” she snapped, no doubt angry I wouldn’t answer her. “And why are you topless?”

  I still didn’t reply, instead pulling the blanket more around me. That was when her eyes went wide.

  “Is that blood?” she asked, staring at the blanket. “Ash? What the fuck?”

  I sighed. “It’s not mine. Llewellyn tried to commit suicide.”

  She gasped at that. “What! Why?”

  “I dunno, but if I’d stayed at the intervention he’d pro’bly be dead. I found him lying under a tree at Claydon Beach with his wrist slit.”

  “Holy shit,” she said, sounding shocked. “Did he say anything that could’ve hinted at why?”

  I shook my head, then stopped, the way he’d acted in the restroom coming back. “He wuz crying in the toilets, said no one understood what he wuz goin’ through.”