Scarred Souls: Second Collection

by TT Kove

I deposited my bag on the bed and turned to him.

  He was studying me.

  ‘You sure you’re okay staying here?’

  I nodded jerkily.

  ‘I am.’ It was either here or go back to Bristol to stay with Grandma. I loved her, but I’d rather stay close to Damian and Mum and everyone else I knew.

  He came over, hands clamping down on my shoulder.

  ‘I don’t want to get rid of you, you know that, right?’

  We’d already had this conversation when he’d aired the idea of me staying here as an alternative to Bristol. But I couldn’t blame him for saying so again—my constant neediness and fear of abandonment made me do stupid things. Like trying to kill myself because I looked Andrew in the eyes and saw nothing there.

  ‘I know.’

  I did. I did know that.

  Of course I did.

  He kissed my forehead, hands moving up to stroke my cheeks.

  ‘Unpack your stuff. Rest up. They’ll leave you alone as long as you’re down here. Claire’ll let you know when there’s dinner later today.’

  Another jerky nod.

  ‘I’ll be back tonight.’ He had to go to school. He couldn’t miss his introduction and orientation module, or whatever he’d called it.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘I love you.’ He kissed my cheek this time, arms going around me in a hug.

  ‘You too.’

  ‘Bye.’

  The word stuck in my throat.

  He smiled.

  I tried, but didn’t manage it.

  He left.

  I stood there rooted to the floor.

  My bag was still on the bed. I stared at it, then walked over and zipped it open. Clothes, socks, underwear. My electronic devices. All I’d need to stay with Ray and Claire. In Damian’s old room. Old. Me here, alone, without him. Because he had school and he had the flat, and I was relocated here because no one trusted me. Because I didn’t trust myself.

  I’d said yes to this. Damian had suggested it before we left Bristol, but…

  ‘It would be best for you, Joshua. At least for a little while.’

  That’s what Mum had said.

  They didn’t trust me on my own. The thought saddened, then angered me. It rose up like a tsunami and crashed against land, wrecking everything it came over.

  The bag skidded off the bed, landing heavily on the floor next to it. I stared down at it, breathing heavily. The fight had already gone out of me, leaving me feeling hopeless. I sank onto the bed, fell onto my side, and curled up.

  Tears leaked, and I wasn’t able to stop them. Why would I? Everything really was hopeless. I was alive, I was alone, I was a failure, Andrew was out to get me—and there was nothing I could do about any of it.

  That was the reason I agreed to stay here, because Andrew was out there. He knew where I lived, but surely he couldn’t know where Damian’s uncle and aunt lived, right?

  Or did he?

  My chest tightened to the point it hurt.

  What if he did know? What if he kept following me around?

  Terror.

  That’s what it was. I was terrified. Always had been. Always would be.

  How could he be out! They should throw him back in prison again. That was where he belonged. He didn’t belong out here.

  Maybe I didn’t either. My fingers itched to scratch at my arm, to hold a razor, to press it down. But I didn’t have any with me and I doubted there’d be one in the bathroom here in the basement. It was only in use whenever Damian or Chloe stayed over, and that didn’t happen often.

  To think I’d been so happy for the past week. Damian and me, in Bristol all on our own, visiting Grandma. Relaxing together, swimming in the pool together, sleeping together. And not just actual sleeping either, but actual sex. More than once.

  It’d been a wonderful week. But now we were back to our regularly scheduled lives.

  I jumped approximately three feet in the air when something jumped half on the bed, half on me. Sitting up straight, terrified, I got a pink tongue all over my face and small paws scratched against my chest.

  ‘What the—’ I grabbed the little fur-ball around its waist and held it out, staring at it.

  It was a dog. And it seemed to be smiling at me, tongue hanging out, as it squirmed in my grasp. It was a funny looking dog. Its eyes were two different colours, one blue and the other brown. Its nose was two different colours too, pink and black. And the fur… there was a lot of white, but also mottled patches of black and grey and even some brown. Or was it called red when it came to a dog’s fur colour?

  I had no experience with dogs whatsoever so I had no clue.

  I let it go and it came scratching back, tongue licking over my neck and jaw, wherever he could reach.

  ‘Friendly fella, aren’t you?’ I petted him. Or her.

  The puppy wore a collar around its neck, almost hidden by the fluffy fur. There was one of those tags shaped as bones with a name on it. Storm. That was usually a boy’s name, wasn’t it? So the dog was a male.

  I scratched his neck, behind his ear. He leant into it, eyes closing, tongue still lolling out.

  A smile spread on my lips.

  ‘You’re sweet.’ Funny-looking, cuddly, sweet.

  The despair of moments ago were gone, replaced by immediate affection for this little fur-ball that seemed to like me in return.

  I lay back down again, but didn’t curl up this time. Instead I lay on my back, with the little puppy laying on my stomach and chest, eyes still closed in enjoyment as I petted him.

  It was relaxing to have him there, to feel the soft fur against the palm of my hand.

  We both fell asleep like that because the next thing I knew there was a soft knock on the door. It wasn’t closed completely, there was a small opening where the puppy had managed to sneak in earlier.

  ‘Yeah?’ I sat up, crossed my legs, and rubbed my eyes. The puppy blinked his eyes where he lay on his side, then he stood and shook himself.

  The door pushed open and Claire stepped over the threshold. Her eyes immediately fell on the puppy.

  ‘So this is where she ran off to.’ She smiled at me. ‘Dinner’s ready, if you’re up for it.’

  The dinner information registered at the back of my consciousness somewhere because the pronoun she used to the puppy took all my attention.

  ‘She?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘I thought—the name Storm. I thought it was a he.’

  ‘Matt named her.’ Claire came closer and leant down to scratch Storm behind her ear.

  ‘I didn’t know you were getting a dog.’

  ‘It’s Matt’s really, he’s the one who wanted one.’ Her smile turned a bit tighter now. ‘We’ve only had it a couple days. I never got around to telling Damian, since the two of you’ve been away, and when he rang it was to ask if you could stay here. That seemed more important than to tell him about our newest family member. You’d meet her soon enough.’

  Matt’s dog, huh…

  I wondered if she knew about Matt’s cutting.

  Was that why he’d gotten a dog? Had he promised to stop if he did? Or did they hope he would? But he’d been so adamant about me not telling anyone… I didn’t think he would come clean on his own.

  Maybe they’d caught him.

  A two-weeks stay in hospital, and then a one-week away on holiday, was not good for keeping up to date with everyone.

  If I’d been the one to talk to them on the phone, maybe they would’ve told me. But Damian wasn’t someone who liked to chatter. He got to the point, got the information he needed, and then he was done. He wasn’t exactly an open person and he didn’t see his uncle and aunt that often. Mostly only for the times we came to dinner and the odd weekend.

  ‘Anyway.’ She straightened. ‘There’s dinner. Are you up for it?’

  I wasn’t. Not really. Not before the fur-ball showed up. Or before our mutual nap. But now…

  ‘Yeah.’

  D
inner with Damian’s family, also part of mine now since we were together, did sound nice.

  When I followed Claire upstairs, Storm followed in my heels.

  Ray and Matilda were already sitting at the table, laughing at something one of them had said.

  Matt came shuffling in, looking worse for wear than I did at the moment.

  Then again, I’d been recuperating in hospital for weeks and was now fresh off a relaxing week away with Damian, so I wasn’t doing so bad compared to when I tried to kill myself a month ago.

  I hoped Matt wouldn’t get to that. To the suicide attempt.

  Or worse, succeed at it.

  But then Matt saw Storm, and he finally smiled as he bent down to pet her. So maybe he’d be okay after all. He seemed generally happy with Storm—it was everything else that seemed to make him miserable.

  Maybe a dog was a good idea. He had someone to depend on, someone besides his family. I had Damian, though again… that wouldn’t stop me if I fell down that black hole again and all that could stop the pain and the misery was a knife or pills. Or both.

  Not even a dog could stop me if it happened. The impulsiveness… it was never a good quality, especially not when I was so far down.

  I was still alive, though. And that was a good thing.

  Ray and Claire’s living room had big windows as well as a glass door leading out to the garden. They had a big garden, lots of lawn and a couple trees at the edge. Claire had flowerbeds out there too, in full bloom. All kinds of colours. It was beautiful.

  Storm ran around the grass, jumping, rolling, and all around enjoying herself. I sat on the veranda stairs, watching her. She was so young, so full of life, so full of enjoyment. I’d never been like that. Maybe when I was a toddler, in kindergarten, before I learned how shit the world and people could be. I didn’t know. And I was scared to ask Mum, both to hear that no, I’d never been like that, or to hear she didn’t know. Maybe the latter one would be worse, even if I knew Mum hadn’t had much time for me back then.

  How nice wouldn’t it be to be a dog? No worries. Always happy to see their owner. To be so loved and cuddled and cared for.

  No worries…

  That would be nice. To live in the here and now, too. Wasn’t that what dogs did? They didn’t dwell on the past. To them, it was the here and now that mattered.

  I wish I can live in the here and now, to put my past behind me.

  Wouldn’t that be nice? To stop dwelling on all that had happened to me, to stop having it destroy me and ruin my life.

  Storm stopped suddenly, head turned toward the trees at the furthest side of the garden, ears standing up.

  I followed her line of sight, squinting. It was already twilight and in the shadow of the trees… I couldn’t see anything, but Storm could see or hear something, and I felt cold all over.

  I scrambled back up the stairs.

  ‘Storm, come here.’ Her head turned slightly, but then it turned back, ears still standing up.

  My shoes slid on the wood, and I turned and stumbled back inside. Matt was there, staring at me as I struggled to stay on my feet.

  ‘You have to call her in. She can’t stay out there.’ I pointed to the open door, hand shaking.

  He gave me a funny look.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘He’s out there!’ I scooted sideways, hiding behind the curtains so he couldn’t look in the big windows and see me.

  ‘Who’s out there?’ Matt eyed me with a slight tint of worry now.

  ‘Get her inside!’

  Storm couldn’t stay out there! Not when he was there. And he was, I knew he was. She’d sensed him or heard him or smelled him or something.

  He was here, watching me.

  Matt continued to eye me for another couple seconds, then he stepped out to call Storm inside. She came when it was him calling, shooting inside like a rocket, and ending up sliding on the floor, almost losing her footing. Kinda like me, moments before.

  ‘I don’t see anyone out there, Josh.’ Matt came in, closing the door behind him. ‘It’s probably just an animal. A bird or a cat or something.’

  ‘He is. He’s there. Hiding and watching. I know he is.’ I always knew when he was close. And he bloody well was.

  If I wasn’t even safe her, in a house with a big garden, outside of London, then where was I safe?

  Maybe I should’ve gone down to Bristol after all.

  Surely he wouldn’t be desperate enough to follow me there.

  Oh yes, he would.

  He knows where they live.

  He won’t even have to do any sort of work to find me, just show up at the door.

  ‘You have to lock the door.’ I didn’t move, just stared from the door to Matt.

  Matt stared back, blinking, lips slightly parted.

  ‘Lock the door!’ Open doors were so much easier to get through than locked ones. Though a locked door wouldn’t stop him if he did want to come in. Especially not when it was all glass. ‘Lock it!’

  ‘Okay, okay.’ Matt held his hands up, palms out, then did as I demanded. ‘There. It’s done. But I still don’t see anyone out there.’

  ‘He’s good at hiding.’ I dared to lean over and look out. Didn’t see anything. Straightened back up in front of the curtains. There was a window on the other side of me, also a lot of glass he could look in through.

  ‘Josh?’

  I couldn’t stay here. Trapped in between a window and a door. And he out there, watching.

  ‘Josh?’

  There was a straight route to the hallway and then down to the basement. He’d see me through the bloody windows, but it would only take me a few moments to reach the basement and then he couldn’t see me anymore.

  ‘Josh?’

  I ran for it. The stairs seemed to shake beneath my frenzied need to get downstairs. Damian’s room was a safe haven, it was in the basement, no wind—

  No!

  There were two windows. Not as big as the living room, but enough to get out of if there should be a fire or some other need to climb out of them. They faced the other side of the house, not where I knew Andrew had been.

  I jerked the curtains closed on both windows. Then snuck my hand in-between them to check that they really were locked. If I could get out through those windows, he could get in.

  Once I was sure no one could see in, I sat down on the bed. My hands rested in my lap, twisting anxiously together. I was wound tight, unable to relax. Panicking. Terrified.

  Someone descended the stairs. I could hear the steps creak under the person’s weight. It definitely wasn’t the puppy: either I wouldn’t hear it or I would hear the clacking of claws.

  ‘Josh?’

  The voice washed over me, calming the worst of the anxiety.

  Damian entered the room, rucksack slung over one shoulder before he deposited it on the floor next to the door. He only had eyes for me, discarding the rucksack without a single glance. He came to crouch in front of me, enveloping my trembling hands in his.

  ‘Matt said you were freaking out.’

  It was time to tell. Time to tell him I was being stalked.

  ‘He’s out there, Damian. He’s following me. Watching, biding his time.’

  Damian sighed, glanced down, then met my gaze again.

  ‘He’s not. Josh… He’s not.’

  ‘Yes, he is.’ I knew with certainty. I knew Andrew, better than anyone. He was out there. He was coming for me.

  Damian shook his head.

  ‘Why would he risk it?’

  ‘Revenge.’

  ‘Josh.’ My name came out on another sigh. ‘Don’t you think you’re being a little paranoid? We’ve talked about this. Your mum’s talked about this. She met him, talked to him. He’s not coming after you.’

  I drew in a sharp breath.

  Why couldn’t they understand?

  ‘Don’t you think you’re being a bit too relaxed?’ I snapped, then instantly regretted it. ‘I’m sorry.’


  I couldn’t snap at the person who dealt with me on a daily basis. He’d stayed with me for three years—I wanted it to be three more. A lot longer than that, too. If he left me… then what did I have?

  He released my hands and instead cupped his over my cheeks.

  ‘There wasn’t anyone outside.’

  ‘There was. I know there was. Storm knew someone was there too. Someone drew her attention.’

  ‘That could’ve been anything. Dogs have better hearing than us. It could’ve been a cat or a bird or rustling of leaves. It’s windy outside.’

  Matt suggested almost the same thing.

  ‘Why won’t anyone believe me? I know he was there! He’s been stalking me.’ I stared at him, willing me to understand. ‘Someone was standing outside our flat looking in one night. Two times I’ve been followed when I was out. I didn’t see anyone then either, but I know—I know he was there. That was before I even met him. Damian…’

  Why couldn’t he understand?

  ‘Just because he’s out of prison, he’s not out to get you.’ His thumbs stroked my cheeks. ‘I think we should have a little kip. Perhaps you’ll feel calmer and more rational once you’ve had some sleep.’

  He didn’t understand. He wouldn’t understand.

  ‘Okay. Yeah.’ At least he was here. I wasn’t alone. That was something, at least.

  33

  Splintered Reality

  Josh

  Only a few minutes after Mum had left, there he was. Standing in the doorway, hard eyes focused on me.

  My breath stuttered, stopped. My chest, my stomach, my arms hurt just from looking at him.

  ‘Joshua.’

  I couldn’t speak. All I could do was stare at him, at how he slowly pushed off the doorway and stepped into the room. He turned—I hoped maybe he’d leave—but he only closed the door.

  No, no, no.

  He couldn’t do anything here!

  I was in a hospital. There were people here, doctors and nurses, and Mum must still be somewhere—

  Maybe she’d known. Maybe she’d left the room so he could get some time with me. Had she known all this time, through all these years?

  ‘What’ve you done?’ He came up to the bed, hands running over the back of it, slipping down to the duvet, close to my foot.