“Light up for me Iz, open your eyes, I know you can hear my voice,” he whispers quietly in my ear. I feel the tears force themselves out beneath my closed lids and as soon as they fall, I feel his thumbs picking them up.
“Open your eyes sweetheart, I need to see your eyes.”
His voice sounds urgent and pleading as his hand squeezes mine, as though to give me the strength I need, while his other hand cradles my face, almost afraid to let go. I open my eyes and look straight into his. Both of us jump slightly when they meet, the intensity of this moment bigger than any words could ever be.
“Hey,” he says with a cheeky smile that’s both relieved and unsure at the same time.
“Hi,” I whisper in a strained voice that takes a lot of effort from the pain. He suddenly gets this torturous look on his face.
“I’m sorry Izzy,” he starts, but I stop him. I know where he’s going.
“Don’t Declan, just don’t even go there. This right here, what happened, is not on you. No way is this on you. I never want you to think this is in any way your fault, I don’t need your apology.” My voice sounds like it’s been cut by sandpaper and Declan obviously realises as he reaches over for a glass of water, helping me take some much needed sips.
“So Izzy, the police will be here soon to ask about what happened…do you want to talk to me about it first?”
“I know he’s dead Declan….I know….because he saved my life,” I break off shaking in fits of tears and feeling overwhelmed by the fact that last night, I lost my Dad. Yes I feel devastated, even after everything that happened. He protected me when it was clear we were trapped and I remember his last breath as he said sorry, before going very still and heavy on top of me. I close my eyes as I remember how we all ended up on the floor and how he moved so his body covered mine, right till the end, right until I heard the voices of the brave men that came to save us. Then everything went hazy and black. And now, my Dad is dead and where the hell do I go from here?
“How’s Mum?” I finally ask him, as if prolonging the news that would be the final straw breaking me.
“They’ve taken her to a specialist burns unit at another hospital. She got hurt real bad Izzy, but the nurse said she’ll be okay with time.”
I release the breath I didn’t realise I was holding and reach up to touch his face, watching as he closes his eyes. “I love you Declan.”
He wraps me up in his arms, and even though I feel some pain, I refuse to acknowledge it as right now, being in his arms is the only place that feels right. I welcome the pain that reminds me I’m still alive.
“I love you so fucking much Izzy, I can barely look at you without my bloody heart hurting from the way it’s trying to beat out of my chest. You have my heart, you own it; it’s yours.”
We are interrupted by two police officers coming into the room. They ask me all the standard questions, which I remember from last time, I explain what happened, calling it for what it was, an accident. I’m a good liar, I’ve had plenty of practice, years of practice, which makes the lies roll off my tongue so eloquently, they are executed…perfectly.
They tell me about my Dad, his injuries, his cause of death and give me the details I’ll need to plan his funeral. They make him sound like a hero for saving his daughter’s life. I’ll give him this one, his last attempt at being a father; when he gave me my life, by offering his. I can’t reconcile all this in my head right now though, so I store it away for another day. Before they leave, they inform me that they’ll go talk to Mum to take a statement from her and will come back to us once the fire investigation report has been completed.
Once they’ve left the room, I’m in floods of tears again, thinking that I do nothing but bloody cry. But for fucks sake, how tragic can it all get. Me and Mum, we’re all that’s left now. We have no other family, well that we see or speak to anyway. I turn to Declan who’s been watching me without looking away even once, since I woke up.
“I feel really numb Declan, I’m relieved it’s all over, but at the same time, I never wanted him dead, I just wanted him to leave us alone. There was always that hope that he would change, you know?” I close my eyes wanting some of the pain to go away. Wishing for the numbness to set in.
“I think that’s pretty understandable Izzy, no one would think badly of you for that, and no one would ever think you’d want this ending.”
A nurse comes into the room, the same nurse who came in to see me in the night. “How are we doing Izzy?” she asks as she carries out her checks. “Any pain or dizzy spells?”
“Just tired and a sore throat really, a bit uncomfortable,” I croak back at her.
“Well, seeing as the injuries are quite superficial, you should be okay to go home tomorrow once we’ve gone through some last checks and shown you how to treat your burns.” She fusses around me and just before she leaves, she tells Declan that he needs to get out of here soon. He doesn’t look at all happy with this information.
“I’m so tired Declan, and you look knackered too. Why don’t you go home and come back tomorrow to pick me up?” I exaggerate a yawn to try and get my point across, as he really does look tired, his eyes blood shot with black circles underneath them. He still looks gorgeous though. My Declan. He hugs me tight and I cling to him as hard as I can, wishing I could crawl into him now and be taken home.
I smile at him, trying to reassure him that I’m fine, which all things considering, I am. “I’ll see you tomorrow Declan, I love you.”
“Love you too sweetheart. I’ll see you in the morning once the doctor’s done the morning rounds.” He gives me a soft kiss and I watch him as he disappears through the doors. Once he’s gone I close my eyes and try to remember every detail from yesterday.
I think back to the moment I opened that front door. Trying to visualise everything, see if there were any clues or whether my overactive imagination is making me see or feel things that were never really there. My head and my heart hurts from watching it all play out. The slurring of her words, the candles, the tension and her words Izobel you were not meant to be here….
I feel like I’m facing directly into the wind, trying to run uphill, trying to find answers that will no doubt hurt me in their knowledge. What do I do? Let sleeping dogs lie, safe in the unknown, or wake the angry rabid beasts that’ll take bites out of you until you have nothing left, until you cease to be? I have no idea what the correct answer is and I have a feeling that I’m going to go crazy trying to figure it out. I do worry for Mum and the statement she’ll give the police but I know that the fire investigation report will come back with accidental stamped on it. It was an accident as far as I see it, but how easy is it to set that scene with everyone none the wiser. It happened before. The one person that can answer these questions, my Dad, is no longer able to.
I sit up on the edge of my bed and turn to face the window overlooking the hospital park and the river. Standing on shaking legs I walk over to watch the world get on with their life as I’m yet again, stuck in a room, a disturbing consequence of Dad’s violent and destructive behaviour. I place my palms on the window pane, resting my forehead against the grimy glass and try to connect with the world I see outside. The leaves on the trees have that blinding bright hued orange, that makes every artist and photographer’s fingers itch to grab the camera or palette. The park is stunning, the leaves blowing off the trees in a haphazard manner, so vibrant, they’re lighting up a sky that’s quickly turning grey.
The overwhelming cruelty of what’s happened hits me as I stand here. All the victims of his actions either broken or no longer breathing, him a victim too in the end. How can the hurt that’s bleeding through my veins feel so intense, the skin covering them so tight, I can’t fit within it. My soul wanting to escape on the wings that were broken when I was a child. Falling to the ground and lost for so long that crying myself to sleep became my nightly prayer. The reason to fight has gone but we’re still victims fighting for the hurt to fade from our souls. I f
eel so alone in the world, I can’t help it. I know I have Declan but I’m one person standing alone with no family ties to bind me to anything. No roots firmly planted. No home to speak of that calls me back to experience memories of the good old days; that tug at the heart, giving you that lump in your throat before bringing a tear to your eyes.
I think the only way for it all to fade, for the hurt that rests just beneath the surface to stop, is to reclaim my soul. Sounds dramatic sure, but then it really is. When I leave this room tomorrow with Declan, I leave the past right here. What I’ve been searching for, for so long, is to mend the broken and reclaim the light. Take myself out of the past and bring myself in to the future where my skin fits, my wings have healed and my veins no longer bleed hurt. Celebrate my life in recognition of what was lost in the fire, the burning and the senselessness from the hands of another broken soul. My Father.
I pinch my left arm as hard as I can to recognise and remind myself of the physical pain. I feel it and it’s a pain so different from the one you feel inside when you have to fight a fight alone. I look at the two bandages I have on my right arm. It’s all I have to show from it all. I can smell the fire on my hair and wish I had some scissors to cut it out. The light is fading outside but I have nowhere to go. I feel so alone. I walk into the bathroom and thank the lucky stars that it’s an en-suite and I don’t have to leave my room, as all I’m wearing is a knee length slightly see through hospital gown tied at the back. I pull the long cord with the big handle on the end, the kind that can only be found in a hospital, and turn on the dimmed toilet light that casts more shadows than it lights up.
I look at myself in the mirror and I immediately see what it is that was killing me. But despite everything, I see me, not a shadow of me or a changed me. Just me. Well if you discount the blackened bits in my hair and the bruises on the left hand side of my face. But my eyes look the same. They don’t look any different. I would know, because they did last time. I close my eyes, wait five seconds then open them again. Nothing seems darker. What I see doesn’t make me want to run. I repeat the process until I’m absolutely sure I’ve lost my mind. I have no idea how long I stand here for, but the shadows become longer and the only light I see behind me in my room is from underneath the door to the hallway and the square window at eye level.
I climb back into the bed and pull the sheet over me trying to get comfortable. I feel physically shattered but my mind is working overtime, though none of the pictures or thoughts are making any sense. It’s more like, they’re jumping from one image to the next with no rhyme nor reason, a mind scramble.
Chapter Twenty-four
I wake up feeling the heat and comfort of a hand cradling my face, a thumb stroking ever so gently across my bruised cheek. I open my eyes and look straight into those unusual dark eyes. I smile at him as he smiles at me and I know in a heartbeat, that he’s the one who’s going to keep me safe, he’s my home. I want to hold him so I sit up and literally climb into his arms, burying my face in his chest. The smell of him is achingly familiar and I breathe deeply, savouring him, feeling safe as he helps rebuild what’s broken inside me. His arms tighten around me as if sensing my need, speaking with actions rather than words. We sit here like this and slowly, but surely, the numbness and heavy loneliness seeps out through broken cracks, to be replaced with what I can only describe as relief and contentment. I know I shouldn’t be feeling like this but I do, whether it’s rational or not.
We’re interrupted by a knock as the Doctor on rounds, walks into the room. As he checks me over, Declan paces the room flicking a guitar pick between his fingers. This startles me as I’ve never seen him do this before and it makes me worry.
“Well I’m happy to sign your release forms, so once that’s done one of the nurses will come and let you know and you can go on home,” he says. I thank him as he shakes my hand and walks out the room.
“I picked up some clothes and stuff for you Izzy,” Declan mumbles as he picks up a back pack from the floor. I’m not sure why, but the childish thrill of him selecting my clothes and not having a clue what he may have picked, makes me laugh. He laughs right back knowing exactly what I’m thinking. “Yeah, just don’t okay. At least if it’s wrong you’re only getting in the car and going back to the house. Oh and I never said I was a personal stylist.” I pick up the back pack and start walking into the bathroom to change.
He stops me by taking my hand and pulling me in front of where he’s still sitting on the bed. “No, let me help you.”
“Someone might see me though the peephole Declan,” I blush, as he puts his hands around me sliding them underneath the hospital gown.
“I’m not doing anything sweetheart and I’ll cover you, I promise.” He pulls out a clean pair of knickers and I close my eyes in total mortification as I feel the heat in my cheeks. He’s only gone and picked out my jokey Hello Kitty ones that Sofia bought me.
“How could I not,” he laughs enjoying my embarrassment. He reaches underneath my gown and slides his hands over my bum. “Wasn’t sure,” he winks at me and slides my paper hospital underwear down, his eyes never leaving mine, as he asks me to step out of them. He bends down and lifts one leg after the other as he pulls up my Hello Kitty knickers and we both burst out laughing. I can’t help but worry what the hell else he’s brought me.
Next come a pair of cropped black leggings, which again he insists on putting on me. He stands up facing me, shielding me from the door as he unties the gown at the back and slides it carefully off me, so as to not disturb the bandages on my arm. His palms stroke down my front as he picks out a fitted black tank top.
“Hold your arms up sweetheart,” he says as he pulls them up sliding his hands with them to make sure I do as I’m told. Despite the fact that his actions are how you’d treat a child there’s something intriguing, even sensual, yet comforting about what Declan’s doing. He puts the top over my head and pulls it down. I’m standing there like an idiot still with my arms up in the air and don’t realise this till he bursts out laughing. “You can put your arms down now.”
“Oh yeah…umm sorry,” I stutter coming out of the trance he’s somehow put me in. He pulls out his own hoodie, the one I wore for a whole weekend once, refusing to take it off, claiming complete ownership of it. Again he puts it on me, carefully making sure my hair doesn’t get stuck.
“Sit down on the bed Izzy,” he says as he crouches down and slides one foot out of the hospital slippers I’ve had to wear.
“Oh no Declan, not the matching Hello Kitty socks,” I groan in shame.
“Yup, doesn’t stuff have to match somehow or did I not read the 101 guide right?” he tries to say without laughing, hiding his face by pretending to concentrate on putting the socks on me. I can hear the supressed laughter in his voice. He pulls out my Converse and I slip them on and tie up my laces.
“There, we’re good to go, want me to go check at the nurse’s station how long they think it’ll be?” he asks, looking at me with such love, I can feel the heat of his eyes.
“Yeah that’d be good,” I smile at him wanting him to leave me for a minute as this moment has completely overwhelmed me. I pick up his back pack from the floor and place it on my lap, sitting completely still and ready, on the edge of the bed, my legs still not able to reach the floor. I’m not sure why, but that always makes me feel younger than I am and somehow fragile too, which pisses me off. I sit here looking out of the hospital window, unable to focus my eyes on anything in particular. I’m looking for a feeling, any feeling. I know I should be feeling something right now but for the life of me I’m not sure what, so I keep on searching. This moment feels momentous; it should be marked somehow as the end. This right here is me, crossing the finish line of a marathon in which I was an unwilling participant. The marathon lasted twenty-two years and I’m tired, so very tired but I completed it, gave it everything I had. Even when the route became hazardous, and obstacles were placed in front of me left right and centre. Not every
one managed to finish it; some lost their way or lost their lives from their efforts.
The race meant something different to each and every one of us. I try and search for the meaning behind this marathon but I’m not really sure I ever will. I should celebrate my victory, but right now is not the time. There will be plenty of time for that later. Scarred both on the inside and on the outside, right now this small victory seems bittersweet.
I cling to the comfort I’ve had ever since I was a little girl, a memory of my grandmother trying to explain death to me. She said that, each and every one of us is represented by a candle in the sky. I close my eyes and visualise a field of candles as far as my eye can see. The blinding white pillars of candles, some very tall, some not so much, a myriad of different sizes, the flames on the taller ones bright with a powerful warm glow, the smaller one’s with flames less discernible, but still fighting to stay alight. I feel sorry for them.
As the fading flame fights on, the light in the soul starts to fade. The sudden line of black smoke coming from the tired wick signals another life extinguished. What the soul gave in life, it will carry on to its next destination, no matter how broken the body was; the force of the extinguished flame sends it onwards. The candles for my brother and my Dad are no more, yet Mum’s and mine burn on. We survived the marathon. I’m roused out of my thoughts as I hear Declan coming back into the room.
“You’re good to go sweetheart,” he smiles at me, as he comes to stand in front of me his eyes searching my face. “Where did you go Izzy?” He bends down and cradles my face in his hands, gliding his lips over mine, so gently I barely feel them.
Broken Fairytale Page 24
