Masquerade

Twentyfive: Light at the end of the tunnel

I haven't stopped crying, my eyes red, her shoulder wet, yet, she still holds me, slowly stroking my back, the other hand slowly stroking my hair.
Slowly calming down, I try to get my breathing into the rhythm of her heartbeat, not daring looking into the corner of the room.
Some time went by, as I try to form some first words with raspy words.
„I want to tell you, but I just don't know where to start and where to end", despair in my voice,
„You don't have to tell me, Luz, not if you don't want, not if you are not ready".

Are you ready, Luz, ready to tell her what you are?

Hollow words echoing in these walls
„Where did I go wrong, Eda? What did I fuck up?", I cry into her shoulder,
„It is always easy to say, we are not responsible for everything happening to us, but we always seek a reason, we just can't accept that life wrongs us, I couldn't accept that".
It feels like the hug gets more tighter, a sensible topic?
„Sometimes you have to love the broken hull your life became too fill the gaps",
„How do you mean that, Eda?",
„If we just love this old perfect picture of us, we never will make a new one".
A slow stroke through my hair, singling out some strands.
„I dont know if you even want to hear it, but you deserve a life, one you like",
a silence begins to fill the room,
„And i don't know, but I would like to offer you something, help".
My hairs stand up a bit, something in me, it just dislikes where this talk goes, but since a long time, there is this little light, a light giving me hope.
„I know someone, a very close someone, who knows a lot about this", she carefully begins,
„A therapist?", everything wants to break the embrace, yet I long for it,
„Call her like that, but not one of those uptight ones, I trust her with every cell of my body".

How fast are you going to tell her all your mistakes?
How long will it take until she calls the cops or tells Eda?
How low will this fall take you?

I take a deep breath, clinging to Eda, a feeling like I will rip apart, as I answer.

„Can we try it?"

A jittery voice, all this strength gone, but this little hope in it.
Eda gives me a warm smile, showing of her one golden tooth.
„We sure as hell can try that, kiddo", she says, ruffling through my hair.
„So when does it start?", I mumble out,
„If you want, straight tomorrow".

And so I sit in this small waiting room, with the nice lady at the counter, holding a small candy, just looking at it.
It needed just two calls and I had a day free from school and an appointment, a therapist.
Who did I even get here?
I don't need someone telling me what is wrong with me, I got through everything fine without this!
Or did I?
This self-doubt nags at my ego, I have to accept that not everything is fine, but how can I can look at the truth and continue my life as I did?
I pocket the candy, taking a breather, combing my hair back with my hands.
The touch only lasts for a second, but the cold metal of the coin gives me this soothing feeling, I got it back after asking nicely, I didn't even try for the knife.
But this new found light, it doesn't even want it back, this piece of metal drenched in hate.
I visibly shake with these thoughts, god it really feels like I will split in two, maybe some distraction.
The play corner is the first thing that my gaze falls upon, just a small corner, filled with a play rug, small town with some roads and some model cars on top of it.
They look old, I thin k as I pick one up, letting my finger slowly run across it, I realize some scratches on the bottom.

EC

Wonder what this stand for
But I get snapped out of my thoughts.
„Miss Pittsburgh? She waits inside", my answer is a simply nod, as the lady at the counter makes a gesture, most likely meant to cheer me up.

Its a comfy chair, I choose it instead of laying on the couch, its a bit warmer in here than in the waiting room.
„Do you want something to drink?", the women across me asks,
„No thanks, I am fine", I answer, just a bit less than truthfully.
A small silence, as she takes some notes.
„So, you are Eda's sister?", I try to break the silence,
„Yes, I am, I know, different looks", her smile seems a bit more sad this time, as one hand runs through the grey-black hair.
Lilith Clawthorne, so different in many facets, those round glasses, straight, long black hair, some grey strains in it, if I wouldn't know, I never would think those two are sisters.
„And you are Luz, Eda her girl?", she asks me, putting a more friendly smile on.
Something would have screamed in me to deny it with all intensity, back then, Luz Pittsburgh had no home, no family, but now?
But am I not a Noceda, doesn't I deserve this?

„Yes, I'm her adoptive daughter for the time", it feels right, false, like a grey day, undecided.

She smiles at me,
„So let us talk a bit", she says and with time, it really doesn't feels like this questioning other therapists did, not these routine questions, where I knew what to answer to satisfy them.
Talking to her feels like we are on the same level, not like warden and inmate, until this one question.

„Sorry to ask this, but the knife, dagger, whatever, the coin, can I ask you about them?".
Something in me feels like the light died, shutting all windows, not letting out anything.
A complete shut off from this.

Did you really trust her, dumbass? I told you what will happen

His cold hand almost feeling real on my shoulder, as I look at Lilith, can I really trust her?
Maybe this is all just a fake so Eda can decide if she really loves me?
Can she even understand what I went through?
What if I ruin everything with this?
My breathing picks up, everything seems to go back to default, only her words snap me out a bit.

„You carry a lot guilt on your back, don't you?",
„As if you could know!", an aggressive undertone, spite, „You only know guilt from eating meat, do you".
She looks at me, I can feel her understanding, but I don't want that, something in me hates that she can understand my anger, my hate, my guilt, that she knows so well and again, something screams at her to help me, to pull me out of this thought quicksand.
„Can I tell you a story, Luz?", she puts her glasses onto the table, rubbing the bags under her eyes with two finger.

„Just a little story about two sisters and the big world"

One thing is sure, this story will get the end it deserves, no rotting corpses on my front door!