Blossom 🌸

FIFTY THREE 🌸

ARLO SAT quietly, processing. I hugged my knees to my chest in a bid to protect my heart. The warm wind flowed my hair in waves and I hoped it would carry away my words like it did the leaves.

The gritty rocks poked through my leggings but it wasn't uncomfortable, it reminded me that I was no longer numb.

"So what happened afterwards? Did you get the help you needed? Therapy? Hospital admittance?" I smiled weakly.

"The first time-"

"The first time!" He screeched. "How many- ok, I'm sorry. Carry on."  Two. Twice I sliced through my wrists and woke up disappointed.

"The first time I realised I wanted to die was when my mom killed herself. It wasn't too long after the fox incident, maybe days later - a week, no more. It was a few days before my fifth birthday and she told me she had a special present to pick up.

I was expecting to go to some mega toy store but instead she took me to an abandoned house. On the drive she kept giving me these candies and by the time we got to the house I remember feeling weird.

I don't remember much after that, only her dead body. It was drenched in blood and smelt of rotting flesh. Her eyes were open, her mouth too. Her face haunts my nightmares, it's there whenever I close my eyes."

"Jesus Blossom." I could tell he was uncomfortable but he listened, his unwavering gaze was filled with such love and compassion.

"I was stuck. Drugged. I couldn't move, I could barely talk. But I lay there for hours calling out to her as she bled out right beside me. Eventually my father found us and I got carried into an ambulance.

I knew, at that precise moment what she meant.  At five years old, my mother had killed herself to escape from the pain my father caused her. She tried to take me with her, tried to overdose me with pain meds but it didn't work."

"She tried to kill you? That's really... selfish." My eyes widened and I tightened my grip around my knees. The sun was slowly lowering in the sky, directly sucking out all of the light. I didn't think my mom was selfish at all.

"Not when you know my father, killing me was the kindest thing she could've done. I stared back at the house through the blur of flashing lights and I felt jealous. Jealous that she escaped and left me behind. Left me behind with him."

"Was he like, abusive?" I sighed.

"No. Yes. No. My father has never actually laid a hand on me. He's never hit me. He's never sexually exploited me. He gets me medical care when I need it and makes sure I have clothes on my back and somewhat have food in my tummy.

I'm in the system Arlo, I've met kids younger than me with worse lives than mine. I can't sit here and say my father abused me because he has stern views and harsh punishments. That just wouldn't be fair."

"Fair on who? Blossom don't dismiss your emotions just because someone else has it worse, your problems are not insignificant, they affect you. They sculpt you. Someone is always going to have it worse. Your problems matter just as much as theirs."

"He's part of the Mormon Christian community and he raised me on those beliefs. He reinforced a lot of rules upon me, rules I'm now learning are controlling and manipulative but back then they were a completely normal part of my life and I was scared to death of breaking them, I still am."

"What did he make you do?" I sighed, after this he's going to know. He'll understand the reasons why I rejected him, why I couldn't let myself fall for him even now. I'll hurt him. I'll hurt me. But I needed to tell him, he deserved to know.