Guardian Angel \\ l.h.\\ Luke Hemmings

Chapter Fourty Eight: Fully Healed

"Show me all your scars, show me the ones who hurt you, the ones that abandoned you. Show me it all sweetheart."

Luke's long fingers grazed over my arms, whose milky pale skin suddenly had blaring red scars all over. None of them hurt but they looked fresh, like a painting with new strokes, each one had untold story. 

His blue eyes looked up to meet mine, they showed hurt and willingness, he wanted to help.

"You been doing so well baby, so well." He pecked my lips, an award for all I come and one of the last we should share.

"But you still have demons, I see it when you are asleep, you toss and turn. You once woke up crying sweetheart, I can't have that again, it breaks my heart." And then suddenly, I realized we were in a dream, one of my dreams. We were in our secret spot, the forest where I first meet him.

"I want you to see every event, I want you to see it all. You need to see how far you had come, I want you to face those nightmares." He whispered, his eyes never leaving me once.

I shook my head immediately, "No, no, no. I'm not ready, please Luke, I'm not ready."

"But you are ready. I promise you, I wouldn't be doing this if you weren't. Trust me Cayden, I will never leave your side, I won't let you fall ever."

"Ever?'

"Never ever." He locked his pinky with mine.

I took a deep breathe, forgetting the nerves; Luke was right, he always was. It was time to stop running and face what was really hurting me. I had to confront all my demons or I would never get that inner peace I desired with all my heart.

"Ready?" He questioned bringing my marked arms toward his face.

I nodded and he kissed one scar, sending our surroundings to fade away.

"Cayden where did you put the brushes?!" My mother tugged at her tangled hair.

The cherry wooden walls were all too familiar as I felt the matter rug I use to slip on when I was little.

"Mom! I keep telling you I didn't put it anywhere, I have no idea!" My nine year old self started to panic, I hated this. My parents always accused me of stealing or misplacing their own items.

"I have to be at work in ten minutes, I could be fired because of this! Stop playing games Cayden and give me the make up brushes." My mom gritted her teeth, using the tone that meant she was serious, absolutely dead serious.

"Mom, I told you. I don't have it!" I screamed throwing up my arms in pure frustration.

She rolled her eyes, "This is why I never wanted a kid, all you do is mess around, you are just a problem."

And this was a moment I had buried deep enough in my being, the moment that haunted my dreams, and cursed my soul.

I was a mistake.

Forever branded in my mind, I was a mistake.

A mistake that couldn't be erased with a simple eraser, I was a breathing mistake that was forced to deal with knowing she shouldn't be here at all.

No one wants a mistake, mistakes aren't perfect. Mistakes aren't pretty, they don't bring value, they are flaws. I am flaw.

I tried so hard to push back this memory, so very hard. But now witnessing it, all the negativity flowed through my essence and I was back to square one.

This was a bad idea, I should not have agreed to this.

"Hey look at me." Luke, who I forgot was next to me, used his hands to hold my wet cheeks.