Beautiful Scars

Chapter 3

I did not have a number to give him or an address, so I made him give me his. As he was about to leave, I whispered in his ear, "I'm not who you think I am" and he replied with:

"I don't think you're anyone, yet." He didn't mean it in a mean way, I knew that. He meant it as if to say he has not judged me for what I am and what I am not. Mag was a little gobsmacked by the whole situation, but she wouldn't understand. She was ignorant like every other goddammed human being on this earth.

"Don't you think that you should take care of yourself before having a boyfriend?" Mag advised, she didn't understand and even if I tried to explain to her she wouldn't understand.

"He doesn't want to be my boyfriend, he wants to know me. There's a difference." Is all I could give, hoping that would be a good enough explanation for her?

"Bull shit. He's hot and you're pretty. I bet all he wants is to get in your panties" and nope. My explanation did not help,

"Think whatever the hell you want to." I rolled my eyes. A waitress came and asked what drinks we wanted, Mag just told her two glasses of water. I drank a lot of water, because I knew if I wanted to be somewhat not dead, I had to put something in my body.

"What are you going to eat?" She asked,

"I'm not." I replied, pretending to look at the menu that didn't interest me at all,

"Yes you are. We are not leaving until you shove something down that throat of yours." She demanded and I knew in an instant that I was going to have to eat something. So I just asked for a chocolate slice. If I was going to eat, I may as well enjoy it to some extent. When the chocolate slice came to my table and in front of my eyes, I tried to put off eating it, but Mag wouldn't have it. So I picked up the spoon and scooped out a small piece and attempted to take a bite; as it sat on my tongue I did not feel amazement or anything as such. It felt like something in my mouth was in the wrong place, I took a hard swallow and breathed.

This was going to take a while.

"You can do it Chloe."

An hour later and I was only able to eat half of it. I did not enjoy it , but it was a huge step for me. If I continued like this I may just get out of the asylum sooner then I thought.

"Can you do me a favour, Mag?" I pleaded,

"Sure" she replied,

"Tell Mark that I just ate a chocolate slice, just let him know please." She nodded. She did love me. Just not the way I wanted her to. She loved me out of sympathy not because I was family.

That night I slept in the spare room of my aunty's house. I decided to call the boy from the cafe today.

Me: hey

Him: hi,

Me: so

Him: I'm coming over, text me your address.

Then he hung up on me. So I texted him my address. Fifteen minutes later he was on my aunty's door step.

I opened the door and he comes in, I led him to my room for the night. He sat on the bed. Across from me.

"So, is this where you normally stay?" He asks,

"Umm, not exactly." I say in a quiet, voiceless tone. I feel small and self conscience, but not uncomfortable, "my minds messed up." I decided to add, he doesn't seemed shocked by it,

"I think your mind is beautiful and profound." He replied,

" I've been trapped in a mental asylum for eight years. If that's not messed up then I don't know what is."

"They're the messed up ones. Not you."

"I know, but because I don't eat and think differently to them, I have to be locked up and tortured all my life. So no one seizes to love me."

"For a girl that's messed up, you are extremely intelligent."

"They say unhappiness is associated with intelligent people, guess what? I'm unhappy"

"Why? You're amazing"

"You don't even know me"

"I know that you have been stuck in an asylum for eight years, you're intelligent and that you're unhappy. What else do I need to know?"

"My name"

"So, what's your name?"

"Chloe"

"Michael" we smiled at each other,

"Where are you from, Chloe?" He asks,

"My God awful mothers womb" I know what he means, but I liked being different,

"Alaska." Michael answers anyway,

"Alaska" I repeat.

"Why don't you eat?" He asks me. I'm not really sure how to answer that, because I don't know why. I just don't and it's a habit now.

"I don't want to" I reply, it's all I've got,

"Eating is a wonderful thing. All of those flavours you experience..." He speaks with such passion,

"Teach me" I demand,

"You are beautiful" he speaks.

"In another lifetime" I reply. Our conversation ended there. After that he just stared at me and I knew straight away that he was examining my very living soul. If it's even still alive. His eyes are extraordinary, the look they gave me shot through my very living body and slammed into me right through to the bone, and boy it hit me hard. Not only that, but the essence his presence demanded was extremely noticeable when you were around him. He keeps telling me how different I am, but him, he was something alright. I believe he has some sort of magic within him, because dammit he was different and if you could just get the chance to grasp his feel you would feel the biggest rush of energy fill your veins, and in that moment you would realise how insignificant you are compared to people like him. If there was even anyone else like him.

The edge of his mouth lifted slightly, a small smile, one would call it. I looked back at him with a confused expression,
"I think you're someone" he spoke softly, his words soaking deep into the depths of my ear.

And I just sat there, frozen.