Olive Tree (WAIK Sequel)

Chapter 7 - "Don't,"

"Are you okay, Olly?" Bea had followed me into the kitchen. As she placed her hand firmly on my back and began rubbing, I felt my expression sooth.

"I'm fine," I lied through gritted teeth.

"Obviously not." She saw right through me. "I haven't told any-"

"I never said you did." 

"Just because you didn't say it doesn't mean you didn't think it." She protested with tears in her eyes. "Anne must have told him in a way that made him assume it."

I was confused. That wasn't possible. Anne wouldn't do that to me. To us. She knew how happy Beatrice made me. She wouldn't want to trash that. Or would she?

I grabbed my things and left, not even acknowledging Anne or Josh. When I got home my legs ached, since I'd walked all the way home, so I decided to rest them on the sofa in front of the TV.

A few hours later, Fabian, Mum, Rose and Simon returned from swimming and I got two big apologetic hugs for when they were hyper on sugar. We ate a take-away and enjoyed some family time. With everything happening, us moving to Indiana and Anne being pregnant, we haven't really been able to have a proper family moment in awhile. I don't think we've ever had one. Dad was a drunk, and half of the time was trash talking to Mum, so it was once in a blue moon when he was nice.

Our little family gathering was soon interrupted by a knock at the door. 

I opened it slowly to reveal Beatrice stood there, tears streaming down her face.

"What's the matter?" I instantly went to cradle her, but that made her cry harder into my t-shirt.

She couldn't speak because of her sobbing, so we stood in the door way for a few seconds to let her get it all out. 

"I just feel so bad for what happened earlier. You left and I thought I'd never see you again." She stumbled over her words.

"Don't be silly," I planted a kiss on her forehead. I began remembering those cheesy song lyrics I wrote for her over 2 years ago. "Broken hearts, open scars. When I look at her I see the stars."

I heard a giggle slither from her mouth and I finally closed the door. I took her up to my bedroom and sat on the bed with her, clenching her hand tightly.

"Why did you think you were going to never see me again?" I quizzed her.

"It's just the way you left," Bea looked up at me, her eyes glistening with tears. "Everyone felt guilty."

"I bet they did." I scoffed and looked down, then back at her.

"They did," She insinuated, then her expression soothed. She began stroking my face with her light fingers, causing me to smile. "I love you, Oliver."

"I love you more, Beatrice." I smiled and gently kissed her.

"Oliver get back!" Fabian screamed at me.

I looked towards my mum dazed and confused. Dad held a gun to Fabian and was prepared to shoot him. Instinctively, I ran to protect Rose and Simon, but felt guilty for leaving Mum and Fabian alone with the monster that was my father drunk. My vision was blurry, and I could hardly see anything. But I heard it all. The gun shot, and the suspense of who was dead. Tears flowed from my eyes as I cradelled Rose and Simon in my hands. They weren't dead, and I was glad of that. But what about Fabian? What about mum? It turns out, the person who got shot didn't seem to matter to me at the time. But as I look back on the memories of when he wasn't an aggressive asshole, they were fun and never failed to make me laugh. Once we went fishing, and we brought a tub full of maggots as bait. I was too busy trying to eat them, let alone let my dad hook them onto his rod. As soon as Simon and Rose were born, the tables turned. There were no more fishing trips. There were booze bottles everywhere. Sometimes they were half full. He didn't shave for weeks on end. When my attention went to my little brother and sister, my dad lost all hope. He gave up because I did on him. I wasn't there to help him through it. One of the memories I had of him was when I had forgot about my scars and accidentally wore a t-shirt with no sleeves and he saw them and looked my demons right in the eye. His face fell, and he noticed I'd given up on everyone too. The reason he shot himself that night wasn't because of my mum. It was because of me.

I woke up next to Beatrice again, but luckily she was fully clothed, as was I. There wasn't a sound in my house, and it was pitch black. I looked at my digital alarm clock, which was illuminting over everything else. It read 2:34 AM. Every time I have a freaky nightmare, following a sudden discovery, I'd wake up at odd times. Why couldn't I have woken up at half past, or 35 past? I couldn't get my head around it. It wasn't just tonight, it was every night.

I walked down the stairs sheepishly, stepping into the unknown darkness, and got some milk. 

I kept hearing his voice everywhere. I kept seeing his face everywhere. I began getting more guilt ridden as the days went on and as the dreams got worse. It's like my brain was undoing all the therapy that had stopped my mind drowning in trauma and replaying all of them one by one in as much detail as it could do make me suffer as much as possible. It was squeezing every bit of joy from my body that I'd even thought of relapsing. Luckily, Beatrice caught me in the act, reaching for the knife draw. She looked disappointed with a hint of sympathy.

"Don't," Is all she said. No tears. No nothing. "Don't you dare waste 2 whole years of hard work. If Anne finds out-"

"She'll break, I know, Beatrice." I didn't feel myself. I didn't feel like I was speaking to her. I felt possessed by my demons and memories I wish I'd forget.

She took that as a hint, and started being blunt. She placed her hands on my shoulders and shook me. It wasn't working. All the shaking was doing was making me extremely dizzy. Her eyes lip with an idea as she slammed her lips against me, quite violently. My chest began going tight as she pulled back. My heart thumped viciously. My head stopped spinning.

Beatrice saved me from myself.