Cold Hearts - Mark Tuan fanfic

31 - Pull Me Back Up

Mark gets scared as he sees you crumbling right in front of his eyes. You hear him crying to his mom one day, telling her he doesn't know what to do anymore. 

So, they send in a doctor to check up on you. He takes out a needle from his kit, and you shake. A whimper escapes your mouth. Mark is automatically beside you, rubbing your arm.

"Did you ever take drugs, Elysa?" The doctor asks, noticing at how you look at the needle with fear. "Have you ever been injected before?"

You stay in silence, just looking at the sharp pin he's holding.

"I think we need to take her blood for sampling," the doctor says to Mark.

He takes out another pointy thing from his bag and pulls your hand gently. You try to pull your finger away but he holds tight. "This would be over in a sec," he assures.

Mark takes your head and puts it on his shoulder so you won't see. You yelp as the doctor pricks the tip of your finger. You feel the blood oozing out as he puts force on it. "No," you cry softly.

"It's ok, baby." Mark whispers.

"Elysa," the doctor says after putting the things back in his black bag. "I won't be injecting you. But, you have to take the pills I'll be prescribing, ok?"

You nod.

The doctor talks to Mrs. Tuan outside the room, but you can't hear what they're saying. She looks at you with concern and thanks the doctor. 

"Feeling better?" Mark massages the finger the doctor drew blood from and kisses it gently.

You curl back in bed and hug yourself.

The next day, a psychiatrist comes. Mark leaves you with her as she lets you lay on bed.

"What do you want me to call you?" Her sweet soft voice is very comforting.

"Elysa," you answer immediately.

"Ok, Elysa. I like your name. I would want to name my daughter Elysa when I would have one." Her comment makes you smile. "You really look pretty when you smile, Elysa." Her admiring eyes look down at you. She's sitting on a chair beside the bed with her hands overlapping on her thighs.

"Thanks."

"So, how'd you get your name?"

You tell her how your mom chose that name for you. In some places of the world, it means gorgeous, intelligent and athletic. Everything your mom wanted you to be. Talking about her made you feel warm inside. You get more comfortable as the doctor asks more questions about things you like. 

After an hour, you pout at her when she stands up and prepares to leave. She giggles, "I'll be back tomorrow. That is if you want to."

"I'd love that," you tell her. 

And she comes almost everyday. For the first week you talk about yourself, with her telling stories about her life, as well. Then she moves to asking questions about your father. That's when you get into a crying mess. She would stop when she sees you tearing up. But there are times she would continue, making Mark come in and halt the session. 

You're beginning to gain weight again. Short trips around the house and dips to the pool keep you occupied during the day. You start watching movies in the room with Mark on his laptop. Sometimes, you cry over a movie that would remind you of what happened. Mark would carefully choose the movie, but even so, just a name or a place or any small detail would make you cry or tremble in fear. 

There are less and less nightmares at night. But, most of them, you see Mark ending up dead. When you can't sleep, you turn to the pills the doctor gave to help you doze off...but only for a few hours. You're still scared that Thorne would come banging on the front door one day. 

Mrs. Tuan said it would be better not to let other people know you're here. Word might spread quickly, and might reach Thorne's radar. 

You stare at Mark one night, sleeping soundly beside you. He had been tired from all the ruckus you've made during the day. You see lines of worry on his face and you feel sorry for him. It's been a whole month and all he did was take care of you. Guilt creeps in you as you think of what he and his family has done since you arrived. All the attention and care they've provided are hard, if not impossible, to repay. They've been nothing but patient to your whims and tantrums. 

The ring touching the crevice in the middle of your collarbone feels cold. You touch and stare at it. When will you ever feel the meaning of this ring? When will you be happy to accept the life Mark is offering? Not until you're sure that Thorne is locked up behind bars for life...or dead.

The thought of you looking down at his grave gives you a feeling of ecstasy. But you know that is far from happening. 

Mark opens his eyes when he feels the bed move. 

"I'm sorry," you whisper, trying to turn your back at him without moving the bed. 

"Can't you sleep?" 

"Uh-hm."

"Come here," he pulls you closer to him. 

"Mark?"

"Uh?"

"Thank you."

"For what, baby?"

"Everything."

He nuzzles his face on your nape, warming it as he breathes down on you. "I'll do everything to protect you, Elysa. I hope you remember that."

"Uh-huh."

"You know I love you, right?"

"I love you, too, Mark."

You love him even more now. That's why you can't stay here. The longer you stay with him, the more chances of him ending up like in your dream. 

You were in the den with Mrs. Tuan the next morning, watching the morning news. You have a magazine in front of you and a glass of juice. 

'A body of a middle-aged woman has been found dead in a dumpster near the mall last night.' The reporter was saying. 'She isn't identified yet,' you look up at the screen. 

Your eyes pop out of their sockets and you gasp. Aunt Mary's body is being carried in a body bag. 

"Aunt Mary," you say softly, tears running down your face.