Polar Opposites

Lana

I'm still reeling. Shaking. Whether it's fury or shock, I don't know, and yet both feel just as mind-consuming. I listened. Listened to 'the truth'. What really happened over 16 years ago. When my mother died and my father swore this man and his family his enemy. Back in 2007, my mother had an affair with the man I was sworn to hate. She wasn't pregnant with me yet, and as Richard, my kidnapper, assures me, I am in no way related to him as my father subsequently forced my mother to take many paternity tests as soon as she found out she was pregnant. And then, my father wanted revenge. The most I can say was that it was not Richard who killed his wife, and supposedly, while he did set the fire that my mother died in, it was not her fault that she died. It seems that... someone... locked her in.

My heart hurts. All the truths I have been conditioned to believe, that were the basis of so many of my values, they are all lies. And my father, the man that I thought was the most moral, turned out to be the most immoral of all. And on top of all that, in exchange for this piece of information, I am in debt to my kidnappers. I don't hate either of them any less, just because they didn't mean to kill my mum doesn't take away any of their crimes and violence, but my moral self feels as though I should stick to my word.

I'm also scared. Of myself. The thoughts, the ones that are so detrimental to my survival have returned. The same thoughts that cut deep scars into my forearms and made my blood pour onto the bathroom floor. My thoughts take away my will to live, and yet I am so scared of death. It's ironic really. My walls have been pulled down, my ignorance protecting me, and now I am knocked over by the waves of raw, sick, hopelessness that knocks at the door of my mind.

                       —---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I must have been lying on my bed for at least an hour, contemplating my existence, when I hear the click of the key in the lock and the sound of Matty entering the room.

'I guess I'm probably the last person you want to see right now.'

I scoff.

He sighs and tentatively joins me on the bed, as if unused to such close contact.

'Listen, I know you hate me, and my father, and maybe - maybe that's fair. I mean you haven't exactly heard glowing reviews, but I wanted, for some strange reason, to let you know that if you want to ask any questions, or talk about the... news, then you can.'

I don't say anything for a minute, as I'm almost dumbfounded at this statement.

'I didn't know you were capable of that.' I say.

'Of what?' he asks, with a twinge of annoyance.

'Compassion.' I say.

He huffs in annoyance and is about to leave when I stop him.

'I'm glad that I found it out though.' I say.

Now it's his turn to drop his jaw to the floor.

'Humanity suits you.' I continue, 'I hope you manage to find more of it.'

He breaks out of his stupor and opens the door, Before he goes he turns back. I catch a glimpse of his face, and for once, I don't see something that I feel I should inherently hate. Instead I see a boy that was stripped of his innocence, that had to learn to become tough, and maybe, just maybe, is beginning to let the callous side of himself melt away.

In a way, I see myself.