Redemption of a Soul

Chapter 1

I pulled up to the house where her and I were staying. She left the party we were at because she didn't want to get high in her friends house. I remember being angry because I saw her with these guys I knew. Back then she was on drugs so heavily that she would have slept with them, at least that's what I thought. I pulled in the driveway slammed the car door shut and hurried inside. She surely would have left if I would have taken my time. I opened the door forcefully then kicked it shut,and I walked to kitchen and she wasn't there. I called for her and called for her and she wouldn't answer. I figured she probably left.
I started to walk out of the house and then it hit me... the bathroom. I tread my way lightly to the back of the house I knocked on the door softly and said her name but there was still no answer. I jingled the door handle and it was locked letting me know for sure that she was there. She was inside hiding from me, so I called her name again. I didn't want to hurt her, but she wouldn't answer the door. I started kicking the door and I heard her tell me to "Leave her alone and go away or she would call the police.," but I knew she wouldn't. She loved me too much to call them. I knew she was also too afraid they would arrest her for being under the influence. I just kept kicking and kicking until the bathroom door finally split from its hinges. I busted in and there she was in the tub, knees pressed to her chest, cheeks soaked with tears, and with blood dripping down her finger. She had bitten down on it so hard to keep quiet that she broke through her own skin. I didn't care.
"I warned you. You fucking bitch! I told you not to disrespect me and that's exactly what you did!" Is all I said. I told her not to be around other men like that, but she didn't listen. I walked towards her with a sinister smile knowing exactly what I was about to do to her, but I didn't care because she deserved it. She told me she didn't know what I was talking about, but I knew that she must have been lying.
I started to move my hands slowly towards her throat, I knew she wouldn't move because she was too terrified. Once my hands reached the base of her thin neck I began putting pressure on it. That's when she started kicking and begging for me to let her go. She finally kneed me in the dick after struggling for a minute or two. I had to let go of her,and she took her chance to run to the bedroom. I quickly recovered and ran after her. She tried closing the door but I was stronger than her, and I forced the door wide open knocking her against the wall. I started choking her again then I started banging her head against the wall. I was thinking the whole time about how she made me look like an idiot when she slept with those guys. I know she did. I hit her head against the wall again this time pulling a chuck of her hair out of her head. Her eyes had snapped shut and in that moment I thought I killed her.
I let go of her throat and she slid to the floor. I couldn't stop hitting her. I punched, kicked, and slapped her. I did everything I could think of so that she would wake up but she didn't. I couldn't bring myself to check and see if she was breathing so I just left. I got in my car and drove to the highest point in Pinevale, and I got out of my car and walked to the edge. I just killed the girl that loved me the most in this world. I had finally came off the high I was on and the realization hit me like bricks being thrown from the sky. Everything I did to her she didn't deserve. Everything that she was doing: the drugs, sex and beatings. She didn't deserve any of it. I looked over the edge while dangling one foot off thinking...maybe this is it for me. I looked down and saw the far jump and I couldn't go through with it.
For three weeks I had no idea if someone had found her body or not. One day I was walking to the store for some booze when I saw her laughing, having coffee with her friends. I thought she was a ghost but she was real. She was alive, and I hadn't killed her."
Eli leans back in the black leather chair, and he runs his hands through his slick blonde hair. The lady in front of him readjusts her glasses for the fourth time since he began his story. She just kept scribbling and shifting her weight in the chair almost as if she was uncomfortable with what she was hearing.
"You know, I realize you must think I'm a disgusting person. In reality I probably am, but my head is just so fucked up man. I don't even know what to think about myself anymore. I try. I try so damn hard to be decent...To be good even. I just don't know how." Eli's words flooded the air between him and his therapist Dr. Turner.
"I don't think you are disgusting Mr. Weston. You're working on yourself, your attitude and your addictions. I see how you could believe that you are 'disgusting' but it's only because you are looking at your past self and actions. You don't get to see how much you have grown and changed since last year from the outside perspective that I have. Have you thought any more about that apology letter I suggested you write to the girl in your story?" Eli's silence and a slight shake of his head answered Dr. Turners question.
Eli in fact had thought an abnormal amount about the letter he desperately wanted; no...needed to write to her. He needed to apologize and explain why he hurt her so horrifically. Eli even began writing the letter, and he almost finished writing one about twenty different times. Each time though Eli found himself ripping the thin notebook paper into shreds and tossing them onto the floor beside him at the dinner table.
Dr. Turner sighs heavily as she scribbles yet another note into her lilac, leather- bound journal. Her clear rimmed glasses began to slide down her nose the quicker she blots down her notes about Mr. Weston. Then as she finishes her notes she looks up to find Mr. Weston nervously picking at a piece of dead skin on the side of his finger while shaking his left leg up and down rapidly. Dr. Turner then takes her index finger and gently pushes her glasses back up to sit comfortably on the bridge of her nose.
She clears her throat before speaking again, "When is the last time you used Eli?" Dr. Turner's soft words immediately halted Eli's leg shaking and finger picking. He then looked straight into her coal-black eyes. They were so perfectly paired with her caramel skin and raven hair. Dr.Turner never wore makeup or risqué clothing. She was more conservative than nearly all of today's female population. Eli usually thought it had to do with her job, because she probably works with a lot of perverts along with rapists and child molesters on a daily basis.
Dr. Turner broke Eli from his thoughts by asking another question," Why won't you answer me, Eli?" Eli only thought for a moment before replying," I used last night around eleven and I used six hours before that too. Why? Do you want to know when I take a shit too doc?" It never takes much to irritate Eli Weston. His patience has always been as thin as a sheet of paper. Sometimes his rationality is even thinner.
Eli stands up abruptly, " You know what Dr. Turner, I don't need you or your bullshit anymore. I'm gone." Eli pushes up out of the chair to make his way out of the small office. Before he makes it to the door he catches a glimpse of clear glass vase half filled with water with a bundle of fresh white Lilies dangling around the rim. It just looked so effortlessly breakable.
As the glass shattered against the desk tucked into the corner of the room Dr. Turners gasp was the only other sound heard. She jumped up quickly and ran to the closest to grab a broom and dustpan and immediately made her way across the room to clean up the remnants of the vase and flowers left scattered on the floor. Eli was proud of himself until he saw how quickly his doctor dropped to her knees to clean up his mess. The mess he had just made...Based on what? What reason did he have to break that vase, really? Even Eli couldn't answer the question. He did it because he could. Now instead of triumph; guilt is all that Eli feels.
Eli turns, with his head hung toward the floor in defeat, to twist the door handle. Only a few strides are taken by him down the long cold hallway leading to the outside world before Dr. Turners almost inaudible voice states, " Where do you think you're going Mr. Weston? We still have forty-five minutes." Eli rotates on the spot and returns to face the mess he just made is his doctors office.
As Eli enters the room he realizes that the physical mess has been swiftly swept away by Dr. Turner. She now sits comfortably back in the chair she was in minutes ago; Glasses perched perfectly on her face and her gel pen erect between her fingers ready to write down the next psycho analysis of her current patient Eli Weston.
Eli plops himself back down into his chair with a huff and says, " I would have cleaned that up you know." Dr. Turner shrugs her shoulders and flips through a couple of pages in her journal. Eli assumes she is looking for the page that she left off at before all the drama ensued. "Are you going to ask me why I used or are we just going to sit here in silence for the next forty-five minutes? I honestly prefer the latter.," Eli is growing impatient once again.
"I'm the doctor Eli. I will discuss what and when I want to. Thank you.," she says brazenly. Dr. Turners sweet innocent smile plays on her plump lips as she tries to soften the blow of her uncharacteristic choice of words. After a few silent moments pass Dr. Turner speaks a simple, "I'm sorry." She has always been the most respectful person Eli has ever met in his life. Even after he breaks a vase and destroys newly bought flowers Dr. Turner still won't even consider making a harsh remark towards him without apologizing.
"I shot up because I had a nightmare.," Eli blurts aloud. Dr. Turner perks up in her chair a little with her pen at the ready. She nods her head lightly for Eli to continue his story.
"My mom. I remember my mom screaming at the top of her lungs. She wouldn't stop screaming.," Eli shudders in his chair while getting his thoughts together before continuing.
"I was young. I know I could be misremembering or maybe it was just that...A nightmare, but I don't think so. I remember sneaking down the stairs. It's not the first time I had ever heard my mom scream before, but I still wanted to be cautious. I remember the closer I got to the screams the harder my heart would start beating. Then I heard it. I heard a hard smack. I could tell it was skin against skin; like someone had slapped someone else. That's exactly what it was because my tiny little nerves kept pushing me forward.
I crept around the corner at the end of the stairs and into the edge of living room. The sound wasn't there so I moved on to the kitchen where the light was illuminating from. I still could the screams of my mom. Now I could also she shadows wrestling around the room. They looked like they were ten feet tall. I almost ran back up to my room then, but I ducked under the dinner table before the people in the kitchen could see me standing there. Then a mans voice boomed," I told you to get the fuck off me you crazy bitch!" The mans voice... It was my dad. Before I could comprehend anything else that was happening I saw my moms rigid body slam against the floor right in front on me. Her tear laden eyes looked directly into mine as she reached her hand out for me to grab ahold. I didn't do it thought. I looked at her fucking hand and it was covered in blood.
I started to cry and then I finally ran upstairs to my room." Eli decided to take a break for a second. Dr. Turner brushes her curly strands out of her face so she can jot a few notes down. She nods knowingly as she does this.
Eli continues," That's not where the nightmare ends though. The next morning I woke up. Everything was eerily quiet. I knew something was wrong, but as a kid I couldn't comprehend anything. I ran straight downstairs not thinking of the night before. I grabbed a bowl of cereal because I was quite used to fending for myself. It was a Saturday and like most kids on Saturday I went outside to play. We weren't really poor nor rich so one Christmas I had gotten this radical play set with a swing and a slide. It was honestly my favorite thing ever. So...I went to swing and everything was fine at first. I didn't have very many friends in the neighborhood, and my mom would typically come out to keep me company. I didn't question it when my mom walked out onto the porch down the stairs into the yard.
Just like any normal child I waved and yelled "Hey mommy." This time she didn't wave back. She continues walking towards me with that sinister emotionless look on her face. It didn't dawn on me that a mother could ever hurt her child until that very moment. I also hadn't noticed she had her arm tucked behind her until she brought a lengthy chefs knife from around her back. She shook when she spoke," Who are you? Where did you come from? Who sent you?" I couldn't possibly understand what was going on in this moment. My mother; holding a blade inches from my face asking who I was? I didn't utter a word. I pushed back in the swing and ducked under her arm to run away.
I wasn't quick enough. She rotated on the spot and carved the knife into my skin. I kept running and I hadn't noticed the gaping wound on my forearm until I tripped and fell face first into the dirt. All I remember then was blood and then darkness. I don't know what happened while I was passed out. I don't know how or when I got to the hospital, but when I woke up I had twenty three stitches. I was told by the doctor that I had fell off my bike and sliced my arm open. To this day I blame my dad for this scar right here." Eli pulls up his sleeve and shows Dr. Turner the very scar from his story. It runs from the bottom of his elbow to he top of his wrist. The scar has faded some with age, but it will be there for the rest of his life. Dr. Turner glances at Mr. Weston's scar and searches for any emotion linked to his story he just shared. Again, she scribbles in her journal about how he seems relatively unaffected by his recollection of dreams. A new revelation has occurred though, Eli has never mentioned his father. Nor has he ever blamed anyone out right for his behavior.
Eli scoffs and Dr. Turner quickly moves her gaze to him. "I'm glad that man's dead; My father I mean. I do wish he was here sometimes though, and just so I could kill him myself. He's the one to blame for this. He's the one to blame for my mothers insanity." Eli shakes his head while motioning his hands towards himself. Dr. Turner thinks to herself that this new information could be a huge puzzle piece to the jigsaw that is Eli Weston. A sudden shrill buzzing emanates from the table beside Dr. Turners chair. Time is up for today's session.
"Well doc. It was nice talking to you. I'll catch you later." Eli stalks out of the office with a wink leaving Dr. Turner quite unsettled.
All of the questions she wanted to ask about his mother and father are surging through her brain as well as questions about his sobriety. She will never be able to calibrate herself to the whirlwind that is Mr. Weston. She moves to list all of her questions needed for their next therapy session.
Then Dr. Turner lifts her head slightly to remember how complacent Eli, Mr. Weston, looked sitting across from her only minutes ago. The audacity of this man is beyond her conceivable imagination. Eli Weston is a man brimming with unimaginable anger and agony, but he still somehow has the uncanny ability to make someone smile. He is a man that she fears will never be able to overcome his hatred for people let alone his self hatred. So far, Dr.Turner hasn't given up on him though. No matter the tantrums or the late nights she spends examining her notes to bring Eli's true self to light; she refuses to be another person to just lose hope on this soul. Eli's soul.