Scarred Souls: Second Collection

by TT Kove

  I was lucky, really.

  They’d had a full house with the twins and Chloe around, as well as both of them working full-time. He could’ve put me into foster care, but he hadn’t. He and Claire both had welcomed me with open arms. Not that I’d ever stepped into those open arms—I didn’t think I’d ever hugged any of them, but I hoped they understood my issues with intimacy. I was pretty sure they did.

  ‘What do the doctors say? Do they think he’ll be okay?’

  ‘It’s a waiting game.’ I hated waiting. Especially for something like this. ‘They won’t know until he wakes up and is calm. The hallucinations, the paralysis of the legs… could just be a side-effect of all the pills. He has a lot of meds and they’re strong. But it could also be permanent. He could’ve done permanent damage to his body and his brain, and then—’

  No, I didn’t want to think about and then. I couldn’t.

  I needed Josh back just as he’d been. Or needed him back in any sort of way, really, unless he’d done so much damage to himself they locked him up in another hospital somewhere. He had to wake up and be well enough so he could come home.

  ‘Your room’s always available,’ Ray said then. ‘If you need to get away for a bit. For both of you. You’re more than welcome to stay with us.’

  I blinked furiously.

  Don’t start crying again, just don’t.

  ‘Thanks,’ I muttered, chewing another spoonful of curry.

  ‘We’re here for you, Damian.’ He clapped my shoulder. ‘Even if that means not being here for you. If you need time alone, just say it. No one will be hurt, we’ll understand.’

  I nodded my understanding but didn’t know what to say.

  On the one hand, I would like to be alone. On the other, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea. Being left with my own thoughts…

  If it’d been the other way around and I was the one lying in a hospital bed, I’d want someone to stay with Josh twenty-four-seven.

  But me… I wasn’t emotionally unstable like him. I could hurt emotionally and not take it out on myself physically. But then I hadn’t lived through what he had either. Still, I wouldn’t do anything stupid just because I was left alone.

  ‘You planning on sleeping here tonight too?’

  ‘Yeah. I’m not leaving him.’ And after tomorrow, when the term was finally over for good, I wouldn’t leave Josh’s side at all until he woke up.

  I’d sit here day and night if I had to, until I knew for sure he’d be okay… or until I knew for sure he wouldn’t be.

  30

  Two Nights

  Josh

  I woke up to bright lights. To beeping. To a sore throat and to pain in my arms. On my arms. Whatever. I woke up to a whispered conversation going on at my bedside.

  Glancing over, I saw Mum and Grandma standing close.

  What was Grandma doing here? I didn’t remember anything about her coming to visit.

  Even my eyes hurt, but I forced my gaze away from them to look down on myself. Something was taped to my hand. No, a syringe or whatever it was called was piercing my skin and taped to it.

  And then… bandages. Covering my entire forearms.

  Oh god.

  ‘No. No.’

  I wasn’t aware I’d spoken until they’d both turned towards me, saying my name in unison.

  Tears rose and leaked over. ‘No.’ Why? ‘Why didn’t it work?’ Why was I still here? ‘Why am I still alive?’

  ‘Joshua!’ Grandma sounded scandalised. ‘Don’t say something like that!’

  I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to see them or the hospital room or the bandages that showed how clearly I’d failed to do the one thing I’d absolutely wanted to do.

  A sob left me, and once it had been set in motion, I couldn’t stop. My chest hurt from it, yet I couldn’t stop.

  ‘I’ll go get the doctor.’ That was Mum, speaking for the first time.

  I wanted to rip out the needle in the back of my hand. I wanted to rip open the bandages and tear out the stitches that must be holding my skin together. I wanted to bleed out, I wanted to die!

  Why couldn’t they understand? Why’d they take me here? Why’d they let them save me?

  ‘I d-didn’t want to b-be s-s-saved!’ Everything hurt, not just my body, but inside too. The inside hurt so much, so much more than anything on the outside could ever hurt me, and I wanted it to stop. I needed it to stop!

  ‘I don’t want to be alive!’ I reached over with my free hand and ripped the needle out. It hurt, but if there was anything I was used to, it was pain. Physical pain was nothing. Nothing at all. ‘I don’t want to live!’

  ‘Joshua!’

  ‘No!’ Blood trickled from where I’d ripped the needle out. It was stark red against my pale skin. Fascinating. Addicting. It was how I was supposed to die. Bleeding out. I had planned it, I had done it, and I’d failed at it.

  Hands touched me and I jerked away from them. I didn’t know if they were Grandma’s or if Mum had come back with the doctors. All I knew was I hadn’t managed to finish what I’d started, and that I did want to finish it.

  I couldn’t stay alive. Couldn’t. I couldn’t go back. Go back there, to him. I just couldn’t. Dying was the better option, the only option, the one I preferred. I didn’t have anything or anyone to live for. I wanted only death.

  And then all went dark.

  Loud voices, blinking lights, something moving—blackness, more light, more high voices. Darkness again, but something was still moving. Someone yelled. Shook me. And then… nothing at all.

  I woke up slowly. The light hurt my eyes as I tried to blink them open, so I quickly closed them again. My whole body felt heavy, like it was weighted down by something heavy.

  A beeping sound penetrated my groggy brain.

  Was that our alarm?

  No. That one was louder, shriller. Besides, Damian never let it ring long enough to wake me. Not when he had school. Because he had, right?

  My mouth was dry, sore.

  The beeping continued.

  My body didn’t cooperate. I inched my eyelids open, taking in the pale room. I turned my head a bit on the pillow and found Damian slumped in a chair.

  His eyes were closed, his arm perched on the arm of the chair and hand cupping his cheek. He looked drawn, exhausted.

  ‘D-Damian?’ My voice was hoarse and sore too. It hurt to speak. It rasped.

  What happened?

  Why am I in hospital?

  He jerked, eyes flying open. He was out of the chair and at my side in a second.

  ‘Josh?’

  ‘Wh-what h-happened?’ It really hurt to speak.

  ‘You don’t remember?’ His gaze turned sharp, narrowing.

  Remember?

  What was I supposed to remember?

  I couldn’t think. My brain was mush.

  ‘Josh. You did this. You overdosed.’

  Oh.

  Right.

  Why?

  Because of Andrew. His face flashed in my mind, the cold eyes who didn’t hold a hint of remorse.

  ‘No. No.’ I didn’t want to see him, to remember him. I wanted to forget, to escape—

  ‘What? Josh?’ Damian’s hand clamped down on my shoulder.

  ‘Ah-Andrew.’ It hurt just as much to swallow as to speak.

  Damian’s expression turned tense.

  ‘You met. In Angie’s office.’

  I nodded, my throat hurting too much to speak. I lifted my hand, the one not with an IV attached to it, to touch my neck.

  Damian’s gaze followed my movement.

  ‘They had to pump your stomach. Don’t you remember the last couple of days?’

  ‘Sh-should I?’

  I’d been out for a couple of days?

  ‘You’ve been awake, Josh.’ He took a deep breath, straightened up, like he was worried about what he was going to say next. ‘You’ve been hallucinating. You haven’t been able to move your feet. You’ve been out of it—but you’ve bee
n awake too. God.’ He dragged his hand over his face, eyes moist. ‘I’ve been so worried. They didn’t know if you’d ever get back to yourself again.’

  I stopped breathing for a second there.

  ‘What’d you mean… like brain damage?’

  His eyes were haunted now as he gazed down at me.

  ‘Yeah. That was a distinct possibility. Do you know how lucky you are?’

  I didn’t feel lucky. I didn’t feel anything but the pain and the heaviness. Everything hurt.

  ‘He s-stood there. Facing me. And there was nothing—not a twinge of regret. He doesn’t think he’s done anything wrong.’

  He ruined my life, and yet he stood there, looking at me like we were old acquaintances. Like the simple sight of him didn’t drag me back into the nightmare I’d been in for all my life.

  ‘Of course he doesn’t. Else he wouldn’t have done what he did for ten years.’ Damian leant down, hand still clamped tight on my shoulder as his cheek brushed mine. ‘You shouldn’t be thinking about him. Yes, he’s out, but he’s on licence. He’s not going to come near you. Meeting him in your mum’s office… that was just a coincidence. If she’d known you were coming, she never would’ve asked him to meet her there.’

  Mum asked him to meet her.

  ‘Why? Why did she want to meet with him?’

  ‘She wanted to make sure he knew that you were off limits. That he wasn’t to get anywhere close to you again.’ Damian’s arms slid around me—or my neck, as I was still lying flat on the bed. ‘God, Josh. I’ve been so worried. Why didn’t you come to me instead of doing what you did?’

  I honestly didn’t know why I’d done it. I’d wanted to get away, from Andrew, yes, but also from my emotions. And the pills had been a way of achieving that. I hadn’t even stopped to think what it would do to Damian.

  Oh god.

  ‘D-did you f-find me?’ I hadn’t done that to him, had I? Let him find me lifeless on the bathroom floor?

  He shook his head, his stubbled cheek rasping against my own stubble.

  ‘Your mum chased after you. She found you, likely right after you’d lost consciousness. If you’d been lying there longer, then the prognosis would’ve been even more dire than it was to begin with.’

  I lifted my hands, clutching at his shirt, bunching the material in my fists.

  ‘I’m so sorry.’ I had wanted to die, but I didn’t actually want to die. Not really. I wanted to be with him. We had a good life together.

  He didn’t say anything, just clutched me in return.

  I didn’t know how long we stayed like that. It could’ve been minutes, or hours. The feel and smell of him was all that mattered to me. I heard the click of heels, but didn’t register it before I heard the rustle of clothes nearby.

  My eyes inched open and I saw Mum standing in the doorway, face set in a grim expression as she gazed at me and Damian.

  ‘M-Mum.’

  Damian started and lifted back up, but his hand stayed on my shoulder even as he turned to face her.

  I was grateful. It gave me comfort, it felt safe.

  ‘Joshua?’ She took a couple steps closer to the bed. ‘How are you?’

  I wanted to tell her I was fine because she looked so drawn and worried, but I wasn’t. I couldn’t lie.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  A sound left her, it sounded close to a sob, and then she was the one hugging me tight.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Joshua. I never should’ve had him meet me in the office. I never should’ve met with him at all. I just wanted to—’

  Her voice broke, and that surprised me more than anything. I’d seen Mum cry before, when she told me about her own abuse at the hand of her father, but never seen or heard her lose control of her emotions like this.

  ‘I wanted to make sure he’d leave you alone. I can’t stand the thought of him getting to you again. If he does, he’ll have to serve out the rest of his prison sentence. He doesn’t want that.’

  The dark shadow outside our living room window flashed in my mind. She didn’t know Andrew—not like I did. And Andrew would want revenge. I knew it. But I didn’t say it. They, or Mum anyway, seemed set on the fact he wouldn’t risk going back to prison.

  ‘What happens now?’ I wanted to go home with Damian, but I knew that wouldn’t happen anytime soon. Not after something that so very clearly was a suicide attempt. And if I’d been so out of it for the past couple of days I couldn’t remember it… well.

  ‘They’re keeping you here for observation,’ Damian said. ‘As for after that…’ He trailed off.

  He didn’t have to continue.

  Another hospitalisation, that’s what would happen. They couldn’t force me, not really—unless they sectioned me—but I’d go along with it. Hospitalisations had helped in the past.

  It’d been months since the last one—and now I was back to being a wreck again. But hospitalisation was good for helping with that. It always had before. But Andrew hadn’t been out on the streets watching me before either. I knew he was watching. He had to be. Who else would be watching me, right?

  Mum let go of me almost hesitantly and straightened up. She smoothed her shirt down, schooling her face back into her usual neutral expression.

  I looked up at Damian.

  He was gazing down at me.

  Please don’t leave me.

  The words popped into my mind. Needy… I knew. I also knew he wouldn’t leave. After three years, after dealing with me for so long… he wouldn’t. And if I ever thought he would, it was because of my disorder. I didn’t have count on how many times he’d told me that.

  ‘You should go home.’ He looked exhausted. ‘Get some sleep. A shower. Rest.’ I wanted him to stay with me, of course I did, but he needed sleep and rest. I didn’t want him exhausted just so he could sit and hold my hand. I could manage on my own. I was in a hospital, it wasn’t like I could do anything stupid again, not here.

  Damian didn’t like that idea, I could tell.

  ‘I’ll stay.’ Mum glanced between us. ‘He’s right, Damian. You do need sleep. In your own bed. You’ve slept here two nights in a row, and only left to go to uni.’

  Two nights.

  Jesus.

  I squeezed my eyes shut. My body still felt all heavy, my throat still hurt. No wonder if they’d had to pump my stomach.

  What had Damian said?

  I hadn’t been able to feel my legs… I tried wriggling them and they moved, so I felt them fine now.

  Damian relented. I could tell from the way his shoulders fell a tiny fraction.

  He leant down, kissed my forehead.

  ‘You sure?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Absolutely sure. ‘Go home.’

  ‘Do you need me to bring anything for when I come back?’ He ran his hand through my tangled hair. It probably looked horrible. Tangled and unwashed for so long.

  ‘My journal? And iPad? With the keyboard.’ I’d like my laptop, but the iPad was easier to handle. I could do what I needed on it, anyway.

  He kissed my cheek now, lingering before straightening up.

  ‘If you want me to come back, just ring, okay? I brought your phone, it’s on the table there.’ He pointed and yes, there my phone was, lying screen down. ‘Your friends have been messaging you. I didn’t know what to do, so I haven’t really done anything about that—’

  I nodded my understanding. It was nice of him to bring my phone—and I reckoned I had to find the strength to answer those texts myself. Part of me wished he’d already told anyone so I didn’t have to, but this was my mistake. I should be the one to tell. And we didn’t go into each other’s phones usually, so I could understand why he’d been hesitant.

  I knew I wouldn’t call him though, no matter what. I knew I was selfish sometimes, like when I woke him up after learning that Andrew was out of prison, just so he could comfort me. But he needed his sleep and I was going to let him have it. Now, at least. This time.

  He seemed torn, then bent do
wn for another hug.

  ‘I love you,’ he whispered into my ear.

  ‘I love you too.’ More than I could ever articulate or explain or show. I could only say it and hug him tight and hope he understood just how deep that feeling went.

  I was awake and calm. Instead of fighting it once I woke up again, I’d decided to just lay there, completely still and silent. Once they left me alone, or once they discharged me, I’d do another try. This time I would succeed.

  Mum was sitting in the chair at the side of my bed, after having relieved Grandma so she could go home and sleep. Mum was reading some case-file. I reckoned she was busy at work. She always was.

  If I died… then she’d be alone. Alone with Andrew. And I was going to die.

  But she should know what kind of monster she lived with, that she was married to.

  ‘He’s a sick, perverted paedophile.’

  ‘What?’ She was distracted, she didn’t even listen properly to my what I was saying. That was nothing new, it was normal. Mum was always busy. Andrew had ‘sacrificed’ his own career, staying in the same boring job for all these years with no ambition. Because of her.

  Yeah, right.

  If she was busy, he could get busy with me.

  ‘Andrew is.’

  ‘Why do you say that?’ Still distracted, like my words weren’t worth her full attention. Well, they would now.

  ‘He rapes me. He’s been raping me for as long as I can remember.’

  She’d been rustling papers, but now it stopped.

  ‘When I was younger, I used to be terrified of nights. Because that was when he came into my room and into my bed. As I got older, it didn’t happen just at night. Now it happens everywhere. My room, living room, bathroom, your room. Wherever he wants. He does whatever he wants. Has his way with me, hits me, beats me, whips me. Forces me to go down on him when fucking me isn’t enough for him.’

  She drew in a sharp breath.

  ‘Joshua—’

  ‘You were always so busy. There were so many times I tried to tell you, but you were busy. You didn’t have the time. Work always came first. And he, the kind, dedicated husband, gave you the chance to further your career while he stayed at home to watch over your kid.’ A bitter laugh escaped me. ‘Yeah, right. It was exactly what he wanted. To have me all to himself.’ I bit my bottom lip, thinking back. ‘So that’s who you’re married to. That’s who you’ll be left with when I die.’