Make Me Better

Chapter 5

Time heals all scars, that's what I was taught when I first moved with my Dad; Everything he taught me was that time heals. Before I stayed with my Dad I lived with my alcoholic mother and her drugged up boyfriend, Rick. Rick was abusive but my mom denied it; They would fight and argue almost every night. My Mom went out to go get some drinks from the bar leaving 2 year old me home alone when Rick came home high. He was calling my name trying to get me to come out, I was hiding under my bed clinging to a stuffed pink rabbit and holding my breath. I had learned fear all too well for a 2 years old and how to stay out the way. He found me, I remember feeling my heart pound as I made eye contact with him as he looked at me under the bed and the blanket lifted so he could see me clearly. 'Come out, come out princess'. Rick had a deep raspy voice almost as if he was losing his voice constantly or had a sore throat. He'd put out cigarettes out on my back, pour the rest of his beer on my head and hit me. I ended up CPS for abuse and neglect; I stayed with a foster family for 2 years. When I turned 4 years old I finally was reunited with my Dad and for once I felt like everything was going to be ok. He'd help me get dressed, he seen all the scars and bruises; I tried to hide from him. My Dad picked me up to lay me in bed and tucked me in. 'Everyone hurts...it's going to always be pain and shame. But tomorrow is another day and only time can heal'. I carried those words in my heart from that day on and believed that nothing could break me. I was just a little kid thinking like a little kid thinks; uncertain about the world.
I rolled over seeing Cat laying next to me and smiled weakly. This expression felt foreign to me, I haven't smiled in a while and it felt like a relief to do something other than cry. She's been staying over quite a lot only when she's not working but most times she come over after work. We never spoke about what happened, she never asked about the scars or the few visible bruises; I knew she seen them, she gazed over them with sad eyes never saying a word besides probably to herself. "Don't feel guilty" I whispered, caressing her face. Cat was good for taking on the blame, she's always protected me in school from almost everything; boogeymen, thunder, the dark and the nightmares but this wasn't a nightmare. There weren't any boogeymen in my closet or under my bed this time, no thunder frightening me and no dark hiding monsters. This was reality as much as I would like to believe that maybe this was a very bad dream, I could wake up any moment and all this would've have been a fabricated nightmare. An intricate way of tormenting me; almost like my own personal punishment designed for myself. I couldn't pin point why I would ever punish myself so harshly not even in a nightmare and not pull myself out of it. I could question myself and this jarring reality; Just accepting that I am indeed broken beyond repair. I twirled my fingers in her short hair, I moved my hand trailing down to her face and tracing my finger over a small scar under her left eye. I was too familiar with this scar, she stayed in the hospital for 2 weeks and they believed she'd lose her sight. It was our 9th grade year; First time in high school and a whole new setting. I felt guilty even after all these years; She got this scar in a fight with a girl bullying me. During the fight Cat fell hitting her face on the bench nearby, the girl stopped and just ran off. I was hysterical; There was a lot of blood but even then Cat didn't cry or scream not like I did and I wasn't even hurting. It was then I realized in all my hysteria that Cat must've had a very hard life before she started living with her Dad; she rarely cried or feared anything. I called the ambulance, Cat just sat up holding her eye and looked at me with the good one. 'You ok?', that's all she said to me worried about me even on a gurney on her way to the hospital. Even with Doctors saying she could lose her sight with stitches under her eye and everyone working to make sure she can see again. She never seemed too concerned about her well-being and I never understood that; How can someone be so selfless? Every day I'd visit her after school for 2 weeks, she never mentioned the pain of her eye or the irritation of having a gauze patch over her eye. I guess she saw the worry in my face or heard the concern in my voice and without explaining she just smiled at me, 'I'm gonna protect you no matter what...my Dad always said when you care about someone, truly care then you'll protect them with both hands and for you I'll protect you with everything'. Those words always clung to me especially now her words were a sweet mantra I replayed in my head trying to hold on to the smallest piece of sanity I had.
Cat yawned, I moved my hand from her face as she began to stretch and groaned. She turned to me with concerned eyes reaching over and caressing my face as I nuzzled my cheek into her warm palm closing my eyes. "Are you ok?" Asked Cat. I nodded not opening my eyes and for a second I was embraced in a calm I felt didn't exist anymore. "Ana...how did you sleep?" She asked. "Fine" I muttered, shrugging. I knew that wasn't what she wanted to tell me; We've argued about putting myself in therapy. I wasn't saying I didn't need it but I didn't believe I needed it. I could feel her pulling me closer but instinctively I put my hand up and pushed away from her. That's all I seemed to be doing with her, pushing away and hiding. Cat sighed, she sat up getting out of the bed and stretched. "I just don't want you to get worse...right now your stuck in some kind of phase. You don't sleep, you barely eat, you talk but your voice is so...it's not you at least not the you it use to be. You need real help" blurted Cat, looking at me with worried eyes. I figured eventually we would get to this point, she always brings it up and says it's best for me. I didn't feel like I was okay nor did I feel like I'd be okay anytime soon but I honestly couldn't fathom that perhaps I could get worse. She could sense I didn't want to talk about it so she just left out the room and started cooking in the kitchen. I laid in bed, I felt around the bed looking for that familiar fur-ball and sighed when I could feel it. "Bear!" I called. I could hear his nails tapping on the wooden floor of my bedroom as he walked into the room and felt the warmth of his body as he leaped on the bed by my feet. "Hey baby boy...you don't wanna sleep with mommy no more?" I asked, beaconing him to come to me. He bounced excitedly towards me flopping in front of me and cuddled into my stomach."Do you think I need help too?" I questioned, petting his back. Bear lifted his head to look at me and tilted it in that innocently curious way. "Maybe I should go to therapy...at least once" I muttered. Bear snuggled into me, I sighed looking at him as he closed his big blue eyes. I didn't see any harm in trying it, maybe I'd learn something. "Cat, I'll try the therapy" I stated, feeling defeated. I could hear her exclaim with excitment and she ran into the room. "Glad you agreed, I set it up for next week Monday at 4" said Cat, smiling. I rolled my eyes and took a deep breath. I wanted to get over this, overcome it somehow and maybe get stronger but I wasn't sure how on my own; I was willing to try anything.