It had been awhile since a dream had decided to pay me a visit. Wednesday night flew by no differently and thankfully did not involve any haunting childhood flashbacks. Unfortunately, even getting the least bit of needed sleep was an impossible feat. Yes, needed. A word I rarely used because of the negative implication it oftentimes carried. I refrained from needing people, places, and things. It only resulted in pain, when they would go or be gone.
"Why?" I groaned loudly, the alarm screeching at me to get up.
After getting dressed with a homemade coffee at hand, I headed to school. The polluted streets passing the decent area by Rubens welcomed me. It was not the warmest welcome, but it was "home". Areas around the shopping central were empty, but much of the neighbors passing through beyond that-sold drugs.
Not to say that type of merchandise was only sold there, but rather in every nook and cranny of Paterson. Many people would get involved with drugs to either sustain themselves, or escape from some kind of cruel reality in their life. On that note, my pace increased to avoid any potential trouble or drama. Carlos was not by my side, which gave me all the more reason to rush until Lisa was in sight.
Upon reaching orange avenue, I heeded all cars, moving or parked. It was by 403 S that the outline of the three floor building could be made out. The familiar antiquated stature of Westside Campus matched the dull-looking sky right above it. I routinely jogged into its three pillar entry, going past the cafeteria conveniently located by countless lockers in the main hallway. Lisa had caught up with me, when I began to enter my combination with a dial on its lock.
"Hey..." She greeted, the blonde in her voluminous pixie, darkening with the light.
The locker finally swung open, "Hey, have you heard anything about Alexis?", I asked eagerly.
"Not much, Nadlan, all I know is that she is okay-and that her parents are going to be in Europe for who knows how long."
I absentmindedly stuffed anatomy, calculus, and literature textbooks from my locker into my bag. "I'm so...worried for her." My tone was uneven and tearful.
"So am I, but she is in good hands." Lisa comforted, sounding equally as distressed.
"I know."
"Come on." She gently urged, when I securely shut my locker closed.
"Why don't we walk by the basketball court?" Lisa suggested.
"Sure, we have about ten minutes to get to class, anyways."
We pushed an exit door open, taking our sweet time to "smell the roses", although there were not any to be found. The school was bordered by meek shrubs, which made me think of # 15's decorative graffiti and the steps adorning its entry. It was much more eye-appealing, in my opinion. 'As are the teachers.' I mentally commented, but quickly shut the thought down.
A group of kids were gathered in a circle, primitive war cries filling the air. 'Another fight...' I internally sighed, trying to dodge the chaos. We leaned on a pole near a deserted basketball hoop, refusing to leave its comfort. That was, until Lisa's face turned an inhuman shade of white, as if she had seen a ghost. My refusal was short lived, when I saw that Frank was smack-dab in the middle of the frenzy.
"Hey!" I ran towards him, yelling at the top my lungs.
Lisa restrained me using her full force, "Nadlan, don't."
"They're going to hurt him." I gritted through my teeth, struggling to escape her death grip.
"What a piece of shit." A boy spat from an unknown direction in the crowd.
"This faggot better not cop a plea ."Another spoke in a drawl, sounding of Hispanic descent.
"What the hell makes you think you have a right to talk to my man like that?" I demanded in Spanish, Lisa holding me in place.
"Your man...your man?" He sneered as though it were a joke.
"Shut up, Nadlan." Lisa tremulously hissed in my ear.
"That almost makes me feel sorry for you." the ghastly colored boy faced us, acne a prominent feature on his sunken cheekbones.
"Why don't we stop waisting time?" Yet another spoke, a wicked gleam in his slit-like eyes.
"Yeah, someone hit him already!"
"Touch him," a tall, ginger woman with corkscrew curls threatened, "and you will have no hands."
"Lauren." He seethed angrily.
From my viewpoint, I could only see the back of her head. Lisa gasped as the woman turned around. It was Lauren Brilla -in the flesh. A frog seemed to get caught in my throat, not only because my middle school bully stood before me, but also because of her undeniable beauty. Her figure was still voluptuous, but her voice had transformed from one of shrill nature to a...melodious one.
"You ain't gonna do nothin'." He threatened back.
"Oh yeah?" Lauren walked right up to him, forming her fingers full of stacked rings, into a fist. "Try me." She dared in a honeyed tone of voice.
A group of my peers came into the scene, supporting Lauren's intention to protect Frank. Thankfully more came, although I did not doubt Lauren's strength. Rings were abrasive to the skin and of great use for fist-fighting. With that said, the numerous amount of the rings she wore were a sure indicator...that she often got into them. The "bad guys" backed off, when the "good" with hooded jackets asserted their dominance.
All of it felt more like surreal than anything, especially when Lauren extended a hand to help Frank get back up on his feet. Lisa's grip loosened, leaving my underarms tender when she completely released me. I jogged to Franco, but his facial expression was not one of relief. It was blank and empty, but composed enough to pass for neutrality. It stayed that way as he wordlessly turned to me, proceeding to wrap me in a hug.
"Are you okay?" Lauren spoke when Frank pulled away, staring at me expectantly.
It was after a while that I realized who she was actually posing the question to. It was not for Frank, it was for me. I looked up at him, his eyes focused on the ground. He was not saying anything, so I was therefore left with no choice but to confront her. That is, in the best way I possibly could, so that she would not have any reason to humiliate me.
"Never better." I dryly responded.
"I'm sorry this had to happen..." She began, interrupted by the bell.
"It's fine," I shrugged, "Thank you..."
"Anytime." She kindly brushed this off, with a beautiful smile.
"Uh, I think I'm going to head home." I stalled, discreetly tugging on Frank's shoulder.
He had a questionable look on his face, "Why are we leaving?"
"We're late for school anyways," I whispered, "and you have a cut on your arm."
"Yeah, sure." Lauren agreed, "I might just see you again, since the school switched my schedule around."
'Great....' , "Good for you." I bit sarcastically, not even trying to hide how pissed off I felt at whatever show she was trying to put on.
She smiled demurely at this, "Well, I'll see you around." That's when she gracefully left the scene, her curves swaying in the wind.
"Okay." I said a little too late, Frank now tugging at my arm.
"Hey where are you guys going?" Lisa approached us.
"We're going home, want to come?" I offered. Frank's body language was uneasy.
"Nah, I've already missed too many days. And was that who I thought it was?"
"Yes, it was Lauren, Lauren."
"Why is she here?"
"I'm not sure, Lisa", I sighed, "but good luck with Ms. Wallace."
"I'm gonna need it." She nodded, sprinting into the Academy's main office.
"Let's go." Franco finally spoke, locking his arm with mine.
"Does your arm hurt?"
"No, it's just a scratch.
"Okay, I'll take care of that later. Make a left here..."
The grass and leaves were gradually losing their color as the days got chillier. My hopes were that the hospital supplied Alexis with bundles of thick blankets, to keep her snug. The Academy was temperate, but the hospital was anything but. Like any other hospital, it was kept extremely cold so that its patients would not catch any illnesses . It was when January dawned that everyone would crank their heaters to the max. A heap of people kept to the sidewalk, shivering in their coats.
"Why were you even in the middle of those guys?" I questioned, trying to make sense of the fight.
"Can we talk about it later?" He gulped, "When we're alone?"
"Why can't you tell me right now?"
"Please, it's complicated." He begged, distraught.
"Alright, we only have to walk one more block." I agreed, suddenly recalling last night's spontaneous turn of events.
"We're here."
"Oh." My train of thought broke, as I fumbled for my key.
It all went downhill from the moment I shut the door closed. I suggested he take a seat, to which he respectfully declined. He stood by the door for moments on end, seemingly drawing a blank. His mouth opened as if he were going to something, only to shut it again. This process repeated until I firmly grabbed him by the shoulders, to help him rest on the couch.
"Are you feeling better?" He randomly questioned, completely off topic.
"Yeah, the soup you gave me helped a lot." I eyed him, placing a beige colored pillow behind my aching back.
"I'm so sorry." He all of a sudden began to weep, his face now in his hands.
"For what?"
"Everything. Nadlan, everything." His tone wobbled up and down in melancholy.
"What are you saying, Franco?" I gently asked, with strong doubt that he caused the fight or initiated it in any way.
"I didn't start it..." He began, "but there is a reason why it happened."
"Tell me." I gently rubbed his back, not knowing where he was going with this.
"I'm different, but it somehow took me forever to come to....terms...with who I am. When I talked to somebody about it, they spread it around the school."
"Spread what?" I asked, not sure if I truly wanted to know.
"You're my best friend and I've always liked you for who you are as a person. I never felt anything but safe with you, which is a big reason as to why...I stayed. I'm gay, Nadlan." He confessed with desolate, underlying remorse.
"Then why did you lie to me after all this time?" I fumed, demanding some kind of valid explanation.
"I never wanted to hurt you." His voice broke.
"I'm going to get some bandaids." I flatly stated.
I took the whole box, not even bothering to pick one out, "Please." Was his vulnerable plea.
"Please," I bitterly mimicked, "take one and get out of my sight."
"Don't." He pleaded again.
"I'm so...happy you know who you are now, but you don't play with peoples' feelings like that. " I spilled to him with a heavy heart.
"I am going to need you to...leave now." My heart then shattered in two, with the words I used to convey my honesty.
Half of the reason it tore was because of the truth he had held back in for so long, but the other half was because I had said it. The word I detested in every way possible. That I needed something-and that that something was space. It was not the need itself that was the problem, but more so admitting it to someone other than myself. Frank finally took his leave, leaving someone who could have loved him for an eternity, with no regrets.
Until now, that is. Now that it was over, but whether or not it was good riddance, I was not certain. He had never been anything but a supportive partner, with the incapacity of even hurting a fly. I went to school that Friday, feigning a smile, in the most convincing act I could pull off to pass as happy. If there was a place he'd be, I'd take it to myself to turn the other cheek. It was something that felt unnatural, but strangely civil. Once I got home that day, things were a different story.
I couldn't cry, but knew the bottled jar of misery inside was going to eventually tip over. Not only did I not have any more tears to shed, I was also never the type to feel sorry for myself. It was better now with the closure given; that my feelings for him were never going to have been mutual. This still didn't change the fact that nothing would bring me out of bed, unless it was food or water. The only thing that did was therapy. It and Donna would be more of a help than anything else.
This, I could be certain of, I decided, when Sunday came. In a matter of minutes, I was already changed into my outfit combination from two days ago, but with a baby blue undershirt. I had to opt for stud earrings, two layered necklaces, and a choker. Unfortunately, Madelyn had stolen the hoops from my jewelry box. Through my bedroom mirror, I could tell my eyes were puffy, due to my apparent lack of sleep.
When I got on a bus, I could tell it had recently rained, for the streets were muddy. To the left of my stop, was where the Psychiatric services for Adults and Children was located. The bus dropped me off, when I weakly pulled the office door labeled Donna Brooks (M.D) open. I noticed its neighboring plastic, cardiology, and orthopedic services lined up side by side. The waiting room was toasty warm, unlike how it was outside, upon stepping into the office. After signing in, I sat in a stiff chair near the miniature aquarium, to wait until I was called.
Instead of enduring the usual half hour wait, only fifteen minutes went by before Donna impressionably came to get me, wearing a cranberry pencil skirt and a black button-down blouse. Although usually in a tight bun, her loose, curly hair flawlessly went along with her choice of clothing. She smiled, asking me if I was ready. I nodded and followed her, clutching my purse to my chest. The moment we stepped in the office, the multi-colored lighting of her Himalayan lamp and magenta colored sofa comforted me.
"How are you, Nadlan?" She asked after we took our seats.
"Me and my boyfriend...broke up because he happened to be gay, the whole time we were together." I bluntly told her, not even bothering to answer the question.
"I'm so sorry." She sympathized, her brow furrowing.
"It's okay, it's not your fault." My head hung down.
"How do you feel about this?"
"With him being gay?" I asked solemnly.
"About breaking up. You don't have to answer, but it would help if you talked about it."
I took a deep breath, trying to abstain from use of the word depressed', "In all honesty, it tears at my heartstrings."
"It's not your fault, ya know."
"Donna," I began tearing, "I get it, I really do, but I thought he was the one."
"Well, nobody can blame ya. He listened to ya and made ya feel loved. Whenever you were sick, he would be the one to patch things up."
A second tear slid down my cheeks, "Yeah."
"Look, I think you should go out and do something. Maybe hang out with friends, or whatever would make you happy."
It seemed as if I wasn't paying attention to this when I said, "I wish he had told me sooner-and not after a year of being together."
"I know, my love, I know. Why do you feel he didn't tell you?"
" Paterson....is ghetto. He probably thought being gay was something that was going to make him look weak."
"Why would he think that?"
"Some people in our school are," I sniffled, "pretty homophobic."
"Did anything happen after he told you?" She asked, offering me a tissue.
"No, I told him to get out of my sight." I sorrowfully took the tissue, blowing my nose.
"You are tough, ya know that?"
"Thanks...but it really doesn't feel like it right now."
"It's the truth. You deal with a lot of bullsh**, pardon my French." She said, an intense look in her bright eyes.
As much as I tried not to, I sounded like someone who was depressed, "Well, that's life, I guess."
"Is there anything else that is bothering you?"
"Yes and no. Lauren...is in the picture, now."
"She was talking smack?"
"No," I almost giggled, adoring Donna's brutal honesty, "she actually tried to protect Frank."
"What do you mean?"
"Some guys were about to jump him, but she stepped in. She's a completely different person, now."
"I think she may have had a change of heart. It rarely happens, but when it does, it is usually life changing."
"You're right, maybe she did, but someone once told me that people never change." I told Donna as she crossed her legs, elegantly placing her hands on her lap.
"It happens, I'm a recovering alcoholic, and look where I am now. I help people, with all my heart. People like you, because I care." She explained.
"Donna...."
"It's the truth." She said, no shame in her words of wisdom regarding her rough past.
"I'll keep that in mind." I promised, knowing well that the world was anything but black and white.
"Nadlan..."
"Yes?" I replied, assuming it was time to go.
"We never got around to talking about your safe place."
"Oh, yeah, I guess we never did."
"We have ten minutes, but if you want to talk about something else, that would be fine too."
"No, I don't mind." I assured, as she took out a bubblegum pink lighter.
"It was umm..." my thoughts gathered, when a flame lit a candle on the glass table between us.
"Can I hold one?" I asked after the other two had been lit.
"Of course." She said, carefully handing me the smallest of the three.
"In Philly, there was a little corner behind the swings of an old playground by a church. A bunch of white birch trees covered it well enough for me to hide, if I was running away from...." I started, my hands above the purplish candle, absorbing its heat.
"From what?" She asked softly.
"You know who." I whispered, not wishing to get into any more detail of my worst nightmare.
"Proceed." She said with watery eyes.
"Okay...the corner had a small entry. Inside it was a long trail of white sand that led to a wooden bench. More birch trees were on either side of the it, trees that were tall and very skinny. They also grew close together, so I knew he wouldn't have been able to see me. The sand would sometimes have wood chips in it, which reminded me of mulch. It might sound weird, but it looked very pretty when the sun would shine on it."
"When would you go, Nadlan?"
"In the morning," my mood instantly lifted with the mere thought of it, "but usually whenever I wanted to."
"It sounds so beautiful."
"It was, Donna. It was." I sighed before blowing the candle out.
She stood up, queuing it was already time for me to go. I carefully placed the candle back where it was before giving Donna a faint smile. That's when the dam broke, and the jar of misery inside me spread like wildfire. I broke down, when Donna did what she knew best. She hugged me, telling me everything was going to be okay. I nodded while wiping away my tears with the tissue in my hands and thanked her. The bus ride back home was slow, but a calm sleep had washed over me that night, like wax at the bottom of a candle.
Jeremy Passion and Tori Kelly-broken hearted
James Arthur-Say you won't let go
YOU ARE READING
Sincerely Yours
RomanceNadlan Villafuente, a rambunctious young adult, struggles in her relationships, both social and romantic, as a victim of rape. She will find a powerful love through a figure in her past, one that is unconventional, and moreover-unorthodox.
