Let Me Open Your Eyes

Chapter 3- Someone To Talk To

{"You have sadness living in places 

                                                  that sadness shouldn't live"}

The next morning Nana Sylvie was waiting for me, sipping a warm cup of tea and humming under her breath to a tune that I didn't recognize. Crinkles appeared by the side of her cheeks when she smiled softly at me showing her age and I felt an uneasy feeling settle inside my stomach at the thought of losing her one day. She just understood me in a way that my parents never did, not only because she is the only one I physically talk to.

"Hey cupcake, how are you doing today?" she asked and placed down her cup of tea beside her, groaning slightly as she leaned over to the table with her exhausted bone structure.

"Fine" I shrugged.

"Good fine or bad fine?"

"Okay fine, I guess. How are you? Any reactions to your new medication?" I took a seat from across her and stretched out my hands in front of me, resting them on my thighs.

"You check up on me more than my own mother ever did" she laughed softly but I could tell that she wasn't okay that her mother never made an effort to spend time with her.

"Her loss, Nana" I grinned at her and she perked up slightly, sitting up straighter as if a thought had just popped into her head.

"How was the funeral, darling? As sad as funerals usually are?" she chuckled and my mind suddenly took me back to my encounter with a certain blue eyed boy. "Hey, what's that face?"

"Hmm?" I looked up from where I had been staring at the floor.

"You were scowling" she laughed.

"Oh, was I?" I asked distractedly, not looking directly into her eyes. "It was just sad, I guess."

I tapped my foot on the carpet impatiently and counted the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling to stop myself from thinking about that stupid boy.

"Anything you want to talk about?" she chuckled after a couple of minutes of my awkward silence and wandering eyes.

"No" I looked away.

She gave me a look that told me that she didn't believe me and took a sip of her tea.

"I spoke to a boy" I sighed.

She choked on her tea.

"Nana!"

"Wait..spoke as in, you know, spoke? Said aloud? A conversation?" she asked me with wide eyes while wiping her chin with her handkerchief.

"He heard me talking to myself under my breath and called me out on it" I told her. "But then promised that he wouldn't tell anyone if he didn't want me to."

"Then why are you scowling? Some people would have told someone immediately or demanded an answer" she said to herself more than to me and rubbed the back of her neck in concentration.

"I guess. He was an asshole though, really annoying and sure of himself" I scowled to myself and she looked at me knowingly. "What?" I asked.

"So...was he your age?"

"I guess so, I didn't really ask for a copy of his birth certificate, Nana" I frowned deeper and fiddled with the gold ring on my middle finger.

"Handsome?"

"Nana!" I exclaimed. "What has that got do with anything? Besides, nobody says 'handsome' in this day and age."

She simply smiled behind her tea cup and tapped her thin fingers on the arm of her chair.

"Regardless of his looks, he knows about me. I hope I don't ever have to bump into him again."

"Really?" she sent me that same look. The look that a shrink gives you when they know you are lying but won't call you out on it.

"Yeah" I looked away and frowned.

...

Later that evening, my parents were acting weird, whispering in the kitchen. I walked past their happy gazes and got myself a glass of milk from the fridge, leaning against the counter and sipping it slowly.

"Sweetheart, how was school this week? Was it okay?" my Dad asked with an uneasy tone and I simply shrugged, chugging my milk quicker so that I would have an excuse to leave. He glanced at my Mum and she avoided his gaze, focusing on the floor instead in a way which let me know that they weren't really interested in talking about my school work.

She suddenly snapped out of her daze and looked at me with bloodshot eyes. "Your father has lots of the work at the office so he is going to sleep in his spare room there for a while to catch up on it all."

Dad's shoulders slumped slightly and he looked down at the floor silently scratching at his arm. Mum always used to tell him off for that habit, telling him that he looked like a recovering heroin addict but this time she didn't even acknowledge it with a comment.

I looked between them and their stiff postures. I eventually nodded, smiling. Maybe if I told myself it enough times I would find it easier to believe.

But we all knew that he wasn't staying away because of work.

My Mum walked out of the room, mumbling something about getting a load of washing done and I awkwardly stood with my Dad. He smiled at me but it was strained.

My mind darkened and shrank into the places where I had hidden those memories. The ones that I didn't want to remember. When he looked at me I stiffened and looked down, dreading what was about to happen.

"Please let me out! I'll be good, I promise! You won't ever have to remind me again, I'm so sorry!" I sobbed and banged on the closet door, hoping that they would let me out. Clothes hit my back and I tried to turn the handle, hands blocking it as they all laughed.

"You need to be punished. You said that you wouldn't do it again and you broke your promise " the cold voice said but I could hear the amusement in their tone. I broke out into more sobs and they groaned, telling me to quit whining and to take it like a big girl.

I hated it when they treated me like a child.

"I won't! I promise that I won't! Just let me out, please!" I fell down to the floor, my cheeks soaked with tears and my fists clenched into tight little balls of anger that I didn't have the strength to show.

"Does little Paisley not like small spaces?" a voice taunted and then banged on the door loudly making me jump with fear. "WELL, I DON'T LIKE PROMISES BEING BROKEN! And you did just that so I'm afraid you'll have to suffer!" they yelled crazily and I shakily put my hand over my mouth, wondering what I did to make them hate me so much when I had done nothing but behave all of my life.

I had never felt more fear in my life for the people that were supposed to care for me, protect me and make me smile.

My hands shook as my head filled with many more memories that made me shiver. Those times were over and they now cared for me like they should do. Voices cut through my thoughts making me jump with fear once I heard them.

"Sweetheart, are you okay?" she asked, smiling sweetly and I backed away from my Mum before ducking through the door and slamming my bedroom door shut once I had ran up the stairs. "Paisley? God, if you were tired you should have just said! I know that it is late.."

I put a hand over my mouth and shrank down against my door, too tired and scared of my own mind to even crawl into my bed. I curled into a ball by the door so that nobody could get to me and begged the tears threatening to come not to fall.