"You don't get it, that boy was born lost, like his daddy, he's been slipping through my fingers ever since the day I gave birth to him. It's his father's darkness, you leave him alone and he'll head straight towards death."
Once you had to put the...
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Once the morning hit me, I decided not to move, but reached into my bag reaching for the oxycodone I had stolen a while ago from L.A. Opening the packet I let the silver packaging slide into my hand as I popped a pill out of the silver packet. Letting two of them fall into my hand, I felt the effects of the hangover. I popped two into my mouth, reaching for the vodka, swallowing quickly. I kept my eyes down, I had contemplated killing myself. It was easy, it was an easy way out. I couldn't deal with it any more. The alcohol wouldn't keep the pain at bay. It couldn't change the mistake I'd made. I let the tears easily slide down my face banging my head against the wood of the bar.
To add to the nightmares I already had, I remember the first person I'd told about this. Strand. Victor Strand. I would remember his face, it was one of shock, right next to disgust, I couldn't stop picturing it. I saw everyone looking at me, as if he told them. He probably told everyone by now. And they'd all look at me disgusted with what I had been involved in. I knew it was wrong. I felt disgusted with myself. How could anyone else ever feel any different about it? It never left me. I thought if I left my home...kept away from my family, that it would leave me. I didn't want to feel like this anymore.
But I still woke up at night, screaming, sweaty, haunted. That pretty much was all there was to me. I was just haunted and broken. Taking another sip of my drink I popped another two out looking at the small white pills in my hand. I could kill myself. Simple as that. No one would miss me. I hoped my brother was out there somewhere, for a different reason than I hoped my father was still out there. With my brother, I wanted to hug him, have him tell me once again that it would all be okay, that he'd protect me, but he'd done a shitty job. I'd always need protecting but I rarely ever got it when I needed it most. With my father, I hoped he was alive so I could cut his head off, kill him, stab his head through a pike burn his body and watch the flesh burn. Watch him die. I wanted to be the one to kill him. After everything that's all I wanted. To be in control. Would anyone really feel any different?
But I wanted to fade out. The tears never stopped silently forming as I felt the pain in my body numb. I took two more before reaching out for the gun that had been left in this room. Holding it to my head I closed my eyes tightly, my body shaking with fear. I wanted release from this world. Release from this pain that I knew I couldn't stop it. As long as I was alive I couldn't stop it. As I was about to shoot I heard someone yell out my name. Opening my eyes they were then met with those of Strand. Victor Strand. His kind eyes, now judgmental, making me fear for what he could say.
"Kali stop what you're doing right now." Strand demanded hobbling over to where I was kneeling down in front of me. He met my gaze and noticed the tears staining my face with angry pathetic red lines. I drew in a shaky breath. I was so pathetic. "Look I can't possibly begin to understand what you've been through. But I'm here. I won't tell anyone unless you say it's okay. But if you ever want to talk I'm here for you...no one should have to go through that. But look it is not your fault. I never thought you'd survive Kali. I've thought about it, I'm not a good person so I'll be blunt with you. I thought you'd never survive this world, but you survived, carried it with you for so long, afraid thinking it was probably all your fault. If you can survive that and still keep a smile on your face despite it, then you can survive this. You will survive because you are a fighter, and if you give up now, you are throwing that all away." He tried to convince me but I looked away keeping the gun where it was but he reached out pulling the gun away as I fired it off. Turning to him anger filled my chest but I couldn't fight, I'd known submission too long to do anything else.
"I'm not a fighter. I took everything he did to me. I took it all and buried it. It was my fault. You can't say it's going to be okay, that I'll survive. I'm not worth anything. I just need to stop it. Stop this constant hatred for myself. I need the nightmares to stop. I'm still afraid, and I want to die. Please just let me die Strand. Please." I found my body shaking, and as all the breath left my body I honestly didn't know what to do. I just sat there, as the tears left my eyes. I wanted it to stop. I just wanted the pain to stop. I wanted everyone to stop haunting me. To just make it stop.
"I had the chance to kill myself once as well, I loved Thomas and I had the chance to die with him but I didn't, if I didn't die for someone I love then you don't have to die for someone you should hate. If you need comfort I am here. I never saw a victim when I looked at you Kali. I saw a smart, educated and talented girl with a bright smile and a bright mind. I never saw a victim. You aren't a victim. You are strong. Stronger than me by a long shot. You aren't dying not by my watch. Not ever. Let me be here for you. Let me help you." Strand whispered as I could barely could believe him. But all the same I wanted so badly to believe him I moved burying my head into his shoulder and as he stroked my hair I had never felt so broken in my life. My body shook, it turned to pain. I didn't feel relief. My secret was out. The jig was up. I'm a sad lonely, used and abused girl. I didn't deserve to be loved. I didn't deserve this comfort. But his comfort and kindness towards me, it outstanded me. How someone could care so much about me. I'd quickly fell asleep in his arm, I wasn't haunted by him. I was at peace. But I knew it wouldn't last for long.
STRAND POV:
This young girl, fell asleep in my arms, I worried she'd die, I didn't know how many pills she'd taken but every now and again I'd check her pulse. I couldn't believe what this girl had been through. She never seemed like a victim of child sexual abuse. She was brave and she was a survivor. I didn't realise it. But I saw it now, looking down at her brokenness. She played music so beautifully, so shallow, but I'd never pictured this was what she'd really been through. I knew I didn't want her to die. She didn't deserve that. Not after everything.
