Truth of Dark Pasts, Serena Wood [read my book .txt] 📗

a bit as I pull it free. This strangled gasping sound leaves my mother’s mouth and I look away from the wad of cloth in my hand to see her leaving the room abruptly. I find myself staring back down at my arm. River did her best to clean it up but even after she had bandaged it, it continued to bleed for a bit and now it’s a mangled mess of blood, purple and black bruises, and white skin to remind me of everything that lead to it. Soon it’ll be a series of scars lining my arm that will always serve as a reminder of last night and everything that lead up to it.

The sound of foot steps draws my attention away from the nightmare tattooed on my arm. Mom walks back into the room and sits back down with a first aid kit in her hand. “She didn’t wrap it properly…” she mutters, taking my arm and using what skills she learned at the nursing home to treat the cuts. “… But you’re lucky she was even there in the first place.” she continues the sentence after a moment. I glance down at my arm for a brief second and instantly I know she’s right. Five minutes later and I would have had to get stitches, ten more and…

“You could have died.” she says it simply, keeping her eyes on the wound as if she’s not able to hold my gaze. Blonde strands of hair fall infront of her eyes and she doesn’t seem bothered enough to set them back in place. As she dabs at my arm with an alcohol-soaked cloth, I find myself staring at the brownish gray roots emerging through the golden blonde. Ever since I could remember, she’s had that golden hair, when I was younger I liked to dye my hair with her in an effort to be more like my mom. I stopped dying it though, four years ago when my grandfather had died; I let it fade back to the raven hair Papi had passed down to me. Mom seemed to dye her hair more after that as if she tried to erase the pain.

She rewraps the gauze and when she finishes she looks up at me at last. I snap out of my thoughts as she starts to speak “Do you understand that, Elise? You could have died. Do you know what that would do to me? To the family? and River?” she pauses for a moment to gather herself and for a blink second River floods into my thoughts. “Promise me this won’t happen again, Ellie. You’ll talk to someone if you feel like it might happen again, go to someone, anything, just don’t let this happen again. Okay?”

I sniffle back my tears and nod slightly, “I promise.” after a minute she seems content with my response and she smiles faintly, “Good, now come here.” Before I can respond she’s hugging me and the action causes me to break down. I don’t know how long I cry but as long as it takes me to get the tears out, she stays there patiently, keeping the hug in place and murmuring words of comfort much like River had until at last the tears stop flowing.

I pull away finally and she dabs at my eyes with a napkin from the table. “You should go back to bed, sweetie. You look exhausted. I’ll get you up in the morning and have breakfast for you before I go to work, sound good?” she smiles in that motherly way like she always does. “Yeah… Okay.” I reply and stand up in a rather sluggish means before shuffling my way back upstairs and into my room. I fall back onto the bed and stare up at the ceiling, my mind racing and clearly not intent on sleeping.

For nearly an hour nothing crosses my mind but River and the main focus is how she left like she did. Little tears start to trickle down my cheeks and I try desperately to push all of my thoughts away. I start to trace the pattern on my shirt, following the lines of the cartoon animal printed on the fabric. I stare up at the ceiling as I move on to trace the next animal and soon I start to notice the cloud shapes caused by the way the ceiling was made.

A few minutes pass as I lay there in that daze but despite my best efforts to stay sidetracked thoughts still creep up on me. For a brief second I confuse the worlds of reality and daydreams, thinking the hand tracing patterns on my shirt is River’s and not my own. My eyes drift close, no longer focused on the ceiling.

Instantly I’m reminded of everything that happened last night and for a second I remember the very subtle happiness I felt when she was here. My eyes flicker open and before I know it, the rush is gone. I stare at the ceiling for a few minutes before forcing my eyes closed. My hand resumes tracing the patterns on the shirt and I try to bring back the thoughts of those short-lived moments with River.

It doesn’t take long for thoughts to trickle in, after all she comes to mind even when I’m trying to push her away so of course she’s there to whirl around in my thoughts at a moment’s notice. I try to remember all the little details, trying to relive the cherished moments that had been so quickly replaced by ones of a duller kind.

The first detail I remember about last night, for whatever reason, are her eyes. For all the years I’ve known her, they’ve always seemed distant, as if she were guarding herself or in deep thought about some terrible memory; more than likely some awful combination of both. But when those eyes were hovering over mine, for once they weren’t distant. They were focused, staring right at me; like she was peering in at my soul, at the very core of me. For the first time it felt like someone was actually looking at me. Not just glaring at the girl everyone picks on, or pitying the “poor child” some think I am; But she was actually looking at me for the human being I am.

Not only was she seeing me, but she was caring for me as well, in a way. Every touch was filled with kindness, affection, and passion. Every caress she held seemed to take away the hits and kicks that Chloe and her friends had forced upon my body. At the time it felt like it meant so much more than what it was. When I woke up without her there and realized it was just her using me, I knew then that it was nothing more than her taking my virginity. But in that moment, when she was kissing me and making me feel wanted; it was so much more than what it turned out to be.

But that was all a cleverly placed lie and this is what it turned out to be. I open my eyes again and stare up at the ceiling, my hand already in my pants. Anger courses through me. Anger towards River, towards anyone that’s ever wronged me. But mainly, anger towards myself for so easily falling for River’s tricks. Skipping the usual foreplay, I force my fingers inside me; trying to redirect all the anger. Months ago this act lost all sense of pleasure and was suddenly replaced by a sense of vengeance. It no longer provides for sexual release, now it’s only used as some twisted tool to punish myself.

Tears start to form but as if pulled by some external force, my fingers don’t stop their current actions; only increasing the pace of their strokes in anger. Eventually I force an orgasm out of myself but it brings me little pleasure; only there to remind me that it’s sexual tension that led to the regretful decisions that were made the night before.

In the aftermath I stare up at the ceiling, pulling my hand back out of my pajama pants. Despite the fact that what I’ve just done lost all pleasure long ago, it still serves as a distraction from pestering thoughts. But now, as I stare up at the ceiling and wipe my hand on some discarded piece of clothing, those pestering thoughts come racing back full force.

I toss the unknown article of clothing somewhere on the ground and suddennly a sob works it’s way past my lips and before I know it, I’m crying. I don’t know how long I lay there and cry, but eventually I must doze off. Crying myself to sleep like so many nights before; the darkness surrounding me.

Chapter 9, "Mistakes"

☯River☯

I wake up suddenly, sitting up right in a jolted confusion, sweat beading on my forehead. It was a nightmare, I know that much. Though I forget the details instantly after waking. I pinch the bridge of my nose and struggle to remember any part of the nightmare that lead to my sudden awakening. The only faint fragment I can pull out of the back of my mind is that it involved Ellie. With a gasp I remember that I was suppose to go over there; back to that dreaded house. I turn to dangle my feet over the edge of the bed and rub at my eyes before checking the digital clock by my bed. 2:38. How had I managed to sleep so long? I know during summer I can sleep a whole day away but I’ve never managed to sleep the day and half the night away. Maybe my body was trying to prevent me from waking, so I wouldn’t have to see Ellie.

I stagger to my feet like a drunk and make my way to the bathroom to empty my full bladder before I explode. I trip on the threshold on my entrance and exit of the bathroom. I stumble through the dark and find my way to the kitchen, a plate of a leftover frozen meal in the fridge like I figured my mom would plan on providing. I snatch it out of the fridge and slump into a seat at the kitchen table without even bothering to reheat it. I scarf down the meal as quickly as possible to avoid the taste. For a while after my meal is gone, I just sit at the kitchen table, unsure what to do next. I look around the kitchen, lost; before standing up and walking back to my room.

I pace around my room for a bit, trapped in my own thoughts. after at least a half hour of wandering around aimlessly, I flop on my bed in frustration. I know what I’ll have to do, not now, maybe not even today. But I’ll end up having to face Ellie again. I’m not sure how I plan to handle her, I haven’t thought much about the details of what I’m going to say when I go back there to get Zoey’s shirt back. Almost every fiber in my body is fighting the idea, willing me not to go.

But still there’s this tiny nerve in the back