My Patchwork Child

Chapter Twenty

'Will it ever go away?' I asked Alden, not tearfully, but I definitely choked on my words. Blinking, I looked forward towards the meadow below.

We were sat on a hill that towered above the field that our in-maintenance house was sat in. The wind was a lot stronger up there and a willow tree stood at the very top.

Birds still glided above us, despite the height we'd gained. I felt like a bird myself, though. Being able to see each and every tree, every deer grazing, every herd galloping. Even the slightest movements in the grass were easy enough to spot. I managed to spot a family of bunnies nibbling on the grass.

The worst bit had been actually climbing up the hill. It was hard work, very hard. But Alden encouraged me the entire way. And it was a huge achievement when I made it.

The scariest part of the dream, to me, was the idea of losing Alden so easily, so quickly. And I made sure to highlight that to him.

Alden sighed deeply. His eyes scanned the clearing below for a moment longer before he responded, 'No. I don't think the experiences you've been through will ever stop bothering you.' He admitted, taking my hand and leaning forward to kiss the top of my head.

As he moved away, he added calmly, 'But I think the pain will ease with time and new memories, good ones, will fill your mind.'

I smiled at him, a sad one, though, still accepting and understanding.

His eyes drifted back to the gorgeous scenery. The clouds were a heavy grey and the wind was scented with cold. I stared at him. His cheeks looked soft from the chill breeze and his ear tips were pink. But his eyes, his eyes looked darker (than usual) and he looked almost desperate to say something.

Giving him a quizzical look, I nudged him, 'Alden?'

'Hm?'

'You want to say something?'

He paused for a moment, then said, 'Let me tell you a story...a story that I've had on my mind for a year or so.'

I could work out by this rough time-zone that it was roughly right before I met him, maybe a month or so before-hand.

'I did something very stupid. Don't make me explain what...' He murmured awkwardly, 'But mother was not at all happy.'

'I swung open the door, ducking my head low, hoping that she wouldn't know. She did know, of course. She marched towards me, fist clenched and a belt in her hand.'

My eyes widened, 'You're kidding.'

He glanced down at me and shook his head before continuing, his voice deep and rough, 'I'm guessing you know what it feels like, being beaten.' He sighed with a guilty look after he said those words. 'You know this, how when you get beaten, it's so incredibly mentally draining, not just physically.'

I nodded in agreement, 'It makes you feel like you've failed, even when your abuser has no right to punish you...even if they don't matter an ounce to you, you feel heartsick.'

'You feel broken.' He breathed. Closing his eyes, I could tell reliving the story pained him but he chose to continue, 'I raged at her. I thought the punishment that befell me was unjust. I screamed at her, kicked off verbally at her but refused to hit her. As awful as she was, I decided to just throw continuous swears at her.' He paused and you could almost see the regret dripping off his face in the form of sweat.

'The things I said, I regret, but she totally deserved to hear.'

'What did you say?'

'I think you can guess. It sure as hell wasn't pretty.' He said with an awkward laugh.