The Artist's Wife (BWWM)

Chapter 12~ Tell Me

I was back in the living room at our old apartment back in up street Brooks near the river and I could hear the annoying noise from the engine room below that kept me awake most nights. Only heavens knew why the heating building's heating system made so much noise. It also assisted in drowning out my screams whenever mom tortured me, or whenever I wanted to cry in general. Sometimes, screaming and knowing you couldn't be heard was therapeutic sometimes.

I looked around, everything was still as I had left it; the angry birds' wall clock was still broken, the brownish stain on the white loveseat was still present. It was still the same old grimy apartment where hopes and dreams came to die.

There was only one major difference, I wasn't thirteen and small anymore, I was a fully grown woman still cowering in fear of her mother. It's been years since it happened, grow up and face reality, Karina.

I tried to remember how I had gotten here but had no memories of what happened. I had not been in here since my father died and my presence here brought back terrifying images. Images that made me sick, images I wanted to forget. Keeping secrets made you weak, it made you unstable, sometimes I felt like just falling down and explaining to the world events that had occurred in this evil place.

I went into the kitchen and stared at my reflection in the sink, I saw a scared woman with tired eyes which looked like they had seen things beyond her age. They had, they had seen and gone through things beyond their control.

I sighed, there was no reason to be scared, mother was gone and she would never be back. Ever again. I raised the cup of water I had filled to my lips and drank steadily. My throat felt dry and I was unnaturally thirsty, as I was gulping down the fifth glass, I heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps in the silent house. I thought I was alone in here.

My eyes widened in fear as the sound grew louder and nearer. I scanned the kitchen for anything I could use to defend myself in case of an attack when I heard the voice.

The voice that has haunted me every single day of my life. Goosebumps rose on my skin and my heart palpitations started to cause a choking pain in my chest, causing my breathing to be difficult and uneasy.

The voice was unmistakable and I could identify her even in my darkest dreams. "Minime."

She appeared at the door, a moment later. She didn't look like she had aged a day and our splitting resemblance was now glaring; I had her wide, brown eyes and curvaceous body and I hated it. I felt colder and the room seemed to be getting smaller. I stared at our freaky resemblance again with mouth agape.

"You've been very naughty again as usual," she chided, revealing a long, sharp knife she had been holding behind her, her smile was wide yet it didn't reach her eyes. "Now give me your hand, dear."

I shook my head, unwilling to accept the pain she was about to inflict on me, that was years ago when I was unknowing and ignorant of what she was. She was a drug using monster, insane and I was twenty-six and capable of standing my ground now. However, to my dismay, my body seemed to be changing rapidly and suddenly, I was the naive thirteen year old again, holding out her hand. It was like watching myself through the child's eyes.

I screamed loudly, my lungs in danger of bursting.

My mother was now slowly rolling the sleeve of my left hand to expose the old scar that would never heal. Silent tears rolled down my face as I bit on my lower lip to keep from screaming.

The older me could not bear to watch this anymore as I averted my eyes knowing what was coming.

"This is just a reminder," mom cooed, then brought down the knife to cut open my skin, drawing blood.

We screamed. Both the young Karina and old Karina, we screamed loudly in pain.

I heard my name being called repeatedly and my eyes snapped open to reveal The Jade-Eyed Bastard peering down at me, frowning. I clutched my left arm and pushed him away before sitting up and noticing that my body was now coated in sweat. I blinked twice, noticing that I was on a bed, a really nice smelling, comfortable bed.

And it wasn't mine. Gerard had moved away from me after I pushed him and put some distance between us on the bed. My head throbbed painfully as I stared at my surrounding and realized that I was still in Bastard's room.

"What did you do to me?" I asked, trying to stand up and gasping in shock at the sharp pain in my ankle. It felt twisted.

Gerard raised an eyebrow at me before replying slowly, as though he was having a conversation with a four-year-old. "You were apparently leaving me and my disgusting multiple personalities when you tripped on your shoe."

I looked over to the point where I had tripped and remembered all of the evening's past events.

I was going to sleep with Daniel, then Jade-Eyed Bastard interrupted and then they got into a fight, then they gave me a black eye and then I tripped.

I stared resignedly at the ankle that I probably sprained when I fell before talking again. "How long was I out?"

"About five minutes tops." His sexy voice replied flatly.

"And it didn't occur to you to maybe take me to the hospital?" I asked, lying back down on the soft pillow and making myself comfortable. It wasn't like I could move anyways, my ankle hurt like hell. "Or get help?"

Gerard shrugged before replying. "I knew you would be fine, you kept mumbling about your mom."

"What was I saying?" I asked, suddenly alarmed and sitting up hurriedly once again.

He looked at me oddly, but didn't question my behaviour. "You weren't all that coherent, I couldn't make out what you were saying."

"Oh." I slumped back onto the pillow.

I didn't speak again and took the silence to reflect on the dream I had, why was I thinking about her more often these days? She wasn't here to hurt me anymore and I tried to get that into my skull. Only it wouldn't stay.

I snuck a peek at the man on the bed beside me, suddenly aware of our closeness. He was silently sketching on his sketch pad, his dark brown hair falling lightly on his forehead as he worked. I didn't fail to notice how the sweats fitted him snugly and the unique tattoo on his forearms caught my eye.

Then I remembered the scar on his back.

"Gerard?" I started, tentatively. "Can I ask you a question?" I saw him tense immediately, without looking at my side and I felt like he didn't want me talking to or asking him anything. After a moment, I saw him give a tiny nod.

"How did you get the scar on your back?"

He whipped his head up so fast, I was scared he would get whiplash. His jade gems darkened and his eyes raked over me as if wondering how I knew about the scar. He kept silent for a full minute before finally talking.

"How did you get the scar on your on your arm?" He asked darkly and I immediately clutched my arm to myself, conscious of the ugly, long mark there.

Touché, Bastard. Touché.

"So I mind my business?"

"Yes, that would probably be best," he agreed, softly as he returned to his sketch pad, ready to continue ignoring me. I turned to face the other side of the bed too, so we wouldn't make eye contact.

We didn't say anything to each other after that. He was hiding something and we both knew it and the sad thing was that, so was I.

Votes, comments and ideas are always greatly appreciated. Feel free to point out anything to me;)

Love,

Lola.