Love, Ben

01// The Girl in The Mirror

   Willow stands in the mirror, dressed in a plain purple hoodie, and black jeans, Converse shoes on her feet. She lifted her shirt for a moment just so she could see her skin. The bruises. The bones. Her hands shake against the material of her soft hoodie, and tears form in her eyes as she sees how skinny she really has gotten. She bites her lip as she lowers her hoodie and looks at her face in the mirror.
   Dark circles show under her eyes, making her look like she had gone weeks without sleep. And she had gone days without it, but never let anyone on. They couldn't know how she was struggling like this. 
   She lifts her sleeve and sees the scars she would call ugly on her wrist and forearm. Scars she put there herself. She called it art; painting with silver and it turned red, dripping down on the oliver coloured canvas. Some were a purple colour, signifying that they would never truly heal properly without leaving a mark. And then some were a pale white, showing that the damage wasn't as deep or permanent. 
   Her eyes water at the sight of what she had become. This was the first time in weeks she had finally seen herself in the mirror. She had brushed her hair, and her teeth. She painted her nails light grey, and she finally straightened out the way she looked. 
   But she was so tired. She had been fighting to keep the memories of his hands off of her, fighting to cover the bruises on her ribs. The bruises on her wrists and thighs. The marks mucking up her smooth, tanned skin. 
   Her lungs felt as if they were failing. All she saw in the mirror was a miserable girl who had almost nothing to live for. She was just so damn tired, and was desperate to feel happiness again. That emotion had become a distant friend to her.
   "Willow, time to leave!" says her mother from downstairs, her voice sounding broken and tired. With one last look in the mirror, Willow exited her bathroom, and slowly went downstairs. Nervous to see her parents reactions, she paused for a moment to breathe, before continuing down the steps. 
   And she was right. 
   Her parents were shocked. 
   This is the first time her mother and father had seen her without looking like a zombie. Her mother's eyes were wide, and her father's lips were parted slightly. His eyes were furrowed as he scanned her body. He almost recognized the daughter he once had. But still, the shadows following her made him realize he lost her long ago. 
   "You look nice." says Mr.O'Rion, looking down at the girl on the stairs. Willow only nods in response, suddenly feeling as if she couldn't use her voice anymore. But when she found the strength, her mother cut her off. 
   "We should head out." 
   And so they did. 

***

   When they family arrived at the building, Willow practically jumped out of the car without so much as a simple 'goodbye.' She couldn't. She felt intimidated by everything outside, and even the sun was blinding. The birds were too loud, and even the air seemed suffocating. 
   Willow stands against the wall of the Therapy Services building, taking a cigarette and a lighter out of her pocket. In one swift motion, she lights it, taking a drag, and letting the smoke fill her lungs. She leans her head against the wall, closing her eyes, and inhaling. The smell of nicotine fills her nose. At least it was something familiar. 
   Her eyes reopen as she hears a car approach her, and she stands up straight, eyeing the black Jeep. Once it's parked, a man steps out and closes the door. It slams shut. He reaches in his pocket for something, looking slightly frustrated, before pulling out a pack of cigarettes. 
   Willow stares. He has brown hair, curled slightly. He carries himself like the weight of the world is forced upon his shoulders. His forest green eyes are protected by round glasses, and his nails are painted black. He doesn't seem the type to want to converse, but he doesn't seem like he hates the world. From here, she could see the marks on his hands, the callouses on his palms. 
   Maybe he played the guitar. 
   Or maybe he was a writer like her. 
   Seeing the lighter in Willow's hand, he carefully approaches her, as to not scare her. But panic flares up in Willow, and she tries to avoid him. Though, he's quicker. He stands far enough away to respect space, but close enough that Willow can see and hear him properly. 
   "Do you have a light by any chance?" he asks confidently, looking down at her. Her shoulders tense at his voice, but she reaches into her pocket and wraps her fingers around her burgundy lighter. She hands it to him, careful not to touch his hand. 
   "Here." she says. 
   "Thank you." he replies before plucking a smoke out of his pack and holding it in between his lips. He brings the lighter up to his mouth and lights the cigarette, letting the clouds of grey rise up into the sky. 
   "No problem." says Willow. 
   Together, they stand in awkward silence, not speaking. Not moving. The both of them just inhaling and exhaling the nicotine. The sound of cars passing can be heard, as well as the sound of birds passing up above. 
   "I'm Ben Henderson." says the man, finally breaking the quiet. 
   "I'm Willow. Willow O'Rion." says Willow, looking up at him. Their eyes meet. And his eyes remind her so much of her brother's, before he died. Before the tragedy of his death. They were a forest green, like the eyes of a majestic wolf. Strength and bravery lie in them, reflect in them. 
   "Nice to meet you, Willow." says Ben with a gentle smile. Willow nods in response. She finishes her cigarette, throwing it onto the ground and stomping on it, watching ember and ash sizzle out. 
   "Nice to meet you as well, Ben." she says, smiling back at him. She notices that freckles dust his cheeks, and he has a scar above his right eyebrow. He has slightly chapped lips, but a defined cheekbones. 
   Willow's hand shakes slightly as she places it back in her pockets, looking around her surroundings. She notices a park across the street, and a Dairy Queen not far behind it. But then Ben looks over to the park behind me, as if his eyes were following hers. As if he had the same idea as her. 
   "Do you like the swings?" he asks. Willow nods. "Would you like to go to the park?" 
   "I have a group meeting here, I can't really ditch it." says Willow. Ben nods. 
   "Okay, but would you rather sit in a boring meeting with someone telling you all the reasons you should live or go swinging?" he asks. Willow looks past him at the swings, before meeting eyes with him again. "
   "Swings." 

***

   Ben finds himself forgetting all of his troubles as he glides towards the sky and then falls back on the swing, feeling weightless and free. The gentle breeze blows through his hair, and across his face. He closes his eyes. Beside him, Willow swings in small motions, not wanting to go up too high into the air. 
   Willow feels a sense of freedom wash over her, allowing herself to be relaxed. Allowing herself to feel vulnerable. Ben lets go of the chains and continues swinging, his one hand extended, as if he could grab a piece of the sky and hold it close to his chest. 
   "Hey, Willow!" says Ben as he seemingly soars up into the air. 
   "What?" asks Willow, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back. Her eyes land on the bright blue sky. She grips the chains tighter, feeling the metal chains digging into the palms of her hands. 
   "Do you like ice cream?" he asks. 
   Willow's stomach drops, and her heart starts to race. The thought of food in this current moment made her feel incredibly sick. "Yeah, it's nice." 
   "Favourite flavour?" 
   "Brownie or chocolate." 
   "Want to grab some?" 
   At this, Willow freezes. She looks over at Ben, who had stopped swinging. He looks at her with a cheeky smile, his left dimple popping out on his cheek. Ben's eyes sweep over Willow's body, and soon, his eyes find hers again. "It's up to you." 
   "Let's go." 
   Willow's jaw drops. She hadn't expected Ben to want to go and grab ice cream. He stands up and starts heading across the field towards the Dairy Queen in the distance. But as soon as he notices Willow isn't following, he turns around and looks at her. 
   "You coming, Willow?" asks Ben. Willow sighs, and then nods at him. She stands up, placing her hands in her hoodie pockets and follows after Ben, nearly tripping over a stick in the grass in the process.

***

   "We'll take two Brownie Blizzards, please." says Ben with a grin. She cashier nods and places their order. Willow digs around in her pocket for a twenty dollar bill, but before she can place it on the counter, Ben places money on it instead. 
   "Ben, I could have gotten that-" starts Willow, feeling extreme guilt. 
   "It's fine, honestly. My parents have too much money." That made Willow feel worse. She hadn't made an assumptions about Ben, but now she felt as if their relationship could go really wrong. 
   "Here are your Blizzards!" says the cashier, placing the two large Brownie Blizzards on the counter. 
   "Thank you very much." says Ben while picking them up. Willow bites her lip as she eyes the large cups of ice cream. Her palms and forehead begin to sweat. Ben smiles over at Willow and nods in the direction of a booth by the window. 
   Once they've sat down, Ben digs into his ice cream. He moans at the taste of the brownie and then laughs as he sees the expression on Willow's face. "You afraid of ice cream?" he teases. Willow's hand folds into a fist and she smiles as best as she can at Ben. 
   "Terrifed." says Willow. She lifts the spoon from the cup and watches as some of the ice cream drips off and back into the cup. She lifts the remaining contents to her lips and takes a small bite. The taste of brownie on her tongue makes her eyes roll to the back of her head in delight. 
   Together, Ben and Willow sit in silence, slowly enjoying their ice cream. Customers come in and out of the Dairy Queen, ordering their sweets and burgers. The bell on the door rings over and over again as people enter, and Ben feels aggitation. It feels like a giant knot has formed in his chest. 
   "Why were you at the Therapy Centre?" he asks, looking down into the cup of his ice cream. His eyes fall on the brownie chunks. 
   Willow's eyes widen. "Oh, uhh.. I have issues." 
   "Like?" 
   "I tried to off myself." 
   Ben is silent. But then he smiles at Willow, looking up. "Me too." he says. Willow nods in acknowledgement. Willow yawns before taking in another scoop of her ice cream. Under the table, her knee starts to bounce, shaking her body slightly. "Are you okay, Willow?" 
   "I'm fine-" 
   "Bullshit." 
   This takes Willow by surprise. She raises an eyebrow at Ben, who smirks playfully back at her. "I'm just nervous, I guess." she says.
   "You have no reason to be nervous around me, okay?" 
   "Okay."