TWO WEEKS HAD passed since I had come home and I know that I should feel some degree of happiness, but I didn’t.
After the first night of being home I woke up screaming so loud that my dad came running, which caused him to shake so hard he couldn’t speak. When he was finally able to he said that he wanted to take me back to Zaston Institution so in that moment I made sure that I only slept during the day when he was gone.
When I didn’t ‘wake up’ yelling the following night, my dad relented, allowing me to stay. The first week he was quietly and awkwardly over-attentive, hovering close nearby as if to catch me in case I slipped off the ledge of insanity. I appreciated it, but all it did was put us both on edge. When neither of us could stand the tension of being in the same house—within close proximity yet so far away from each other—he started to go out for long periods of time in the night.
Tonight, I was going to find out where. I switched off my bedside table and pretended to be asleep. Sure enough, thirty seconds later I heard footsteps at my bedroom door.
“Emerson, are you asleep?” I heard my dad ask lightly.
When I didn’t respond I heard him quietly leave, and when he opened the front door I quickly jumped out of bed to go after him. The other times I noticed he had left on foot, and this time was no different.
I followed thirty paces behind thankful there weren’t too many people around at the moment, but then that would just mean that they were all out in the city. It was Friday night and it looked like that was where we were headed.
Dad entered Giuseppe’s, an Italian restaurant that I remember we used to go to a lot when I was little. I paused near the front window, wondering whom he was meeting. A waitress gestured for him to follow her, leading him to a corner where a beautiful woman was seated at a table. He thanked the waitress, then turned and kissed his date on the cheek and as he did so she wrapped a manicured hand around his waist, squeezing his side, the gesture suggestive of prior intimacy.
A massive smile lit up his face and I couldn’t help but wonder how long he had known her. Why was it so easy for him to show affection to her? I hated myself for the jealousy that had sprung up inside me. It was poisonous and it tempted me to go inside and somehow sabotage their relationship, but that was just selfish thinking. He deserved to be happy, to be loved and in love, and at least he wasn’t rekindling his relationship with my mother.
I quickly moved out of sight just in case they turned to look outside, even though I knew the chances of that happening was slim judging from the rapt look of attention on both of their faces and the way their bodies leaned close toward each other.
I walked a couple steps back toward home then stopped, my heart in my mouth as I saw two very familiar faces. My ex-boyfriend was twirling my cousin around playfully. He stopped her mid-spin pulling her body hard against his and dipped her back as his mouth locked on hers passionately.
I drew my black hoodie over my face moving toward the shadows to avoid detection.
“Em, is that you?” I heard a loud voice tremulously ask behind me. I mentally groaned. Valerie and my cousin used to be best friends with me up until the night we had been out celebrating our graduation from high school. That was the night when we had driven three hours north into the city and had illegally gone clubbing for the first time at Salazar’s. It was also the night that I had been assaulted.
While I’d been distracted by my thoughts, she stepped out in front of me. She took one look at my eyes, and then zeroed in on the scars on my jaw and neck in shock.
“Scars are fashionable these days, not to mention they have the added purpose of keeping predators away,” I seethed defensively.
She flinched like I had shot a bullet into her. “I’m sorry . . . I didn’t mean to stare,” Val apologized sincerely.
“Val, who are you talking to?” Liliana interrupted.
“It’s . . . Emerson,” she said reluctantly, knowing it was too late to deny as Liliana and Jaxson walked toward us.
“Very funny, Val,” Liliana laughed free heartedly. I’d forgotten what it looked like to have no demons or fears beyond worrying about whether the boy you were in love with loved you back. Just like I’d worried when I thought I’d been in love with Jaxson. I thought I was at the time, but if I really had been then I would be hurting a hell of a lot more than I was right now.
“Lily, she isn’t lying,” Jaxson croaked unable to look me in the eye. He jerked his hand away from where it was locked with Liliana’s but not fast enough.
“W–What are you doing here?” Liliana croaked, wrapping her arms around herself like she was a victim.
“What am I doing being back in my own hometown? I have just as much right to be here as you do,” I threw back bitterly, deliberately misinterpreting her question.
“That’s not what she meant . . . we thought you were at . . .” Valerie broke off awkwardly.
“You mean at Zaston Institution? I was, but they decided to let me out on good behavior. I thought I’d come back and see why none of you ever came to visit me,” I said scornfully.
They all recoiled and it felt good. I had the power to make or break them. I was their guilty secret; they’d left me behind. They’d moved on like I’d meant nothing to them at all while I was stuck in the past.
“I’m sorry.” They all spoke at once.
“That’s not good enough,” I spat, wanting to draw blood, just like I’d bled.
“We couldn’t face you, especially after we’d left you at the club when we couldn’t find you. We thought maybe you’d gone back to the hotel,” Valerie confided brokenly. Guilt hit me, and I felt the anger slip away, being replaced by sorrow.
“It was our fault you were . . . Instead of heading back to the hotel to double-check that you were there, we partied until five in the morning. If we had left earlier, maybe we could have alerted the police you were missing, before you were found. Maybe we could have stopped you from being hurt at all,” Liliana added. “You’re my cousin, you’re younger than me by three months, I was supposed to look out for you. I was supposed to protect you,” she sobbed.
Jaxson immediately rubbed her back in circles trying to show his support. He looked at me pleadingly knowing that only I had the power to set them free from their guilt.
I sighed, not wanting to deal with them at all, but I had to have a guilt-free conscience.
“Look, I can’t remember what happened that night. But it wasn’t your fault that I was attacked. The police told me that the attacker had messaged you both from my mobile telling you I felt sick and that I was going to head back to our room. As much as I’m angry with you both for not coming to see me at the institution, I can’t let you continue feeling guilty about that night. It wasn’t even your fault, Liliana, that you suggested we go to Salazar’s . . .” I responded consolingly.
“Actually, it was your mother who suggested it to me when she was over at my house seeing my mum,” Liliana interrupted. She had always been a stickler for facts and truths.
“Liliana, please, just let me finish,” I urged, ignoring the technicality. “It wasn’t your fault. I don’t blame you, and I feel the same way about you, too, Valerie. The only person deserving of the blame is the person who hurt me. Have I made myself clear?” I questioned harshly. Valerie began to cry and all the emotion was making me feel overwhelmed.
They both nodded and I breathed in as the intense atmosphere began to disperse, becoming uncomfortable.
“Lily and I, we didn’t mean to become . . . it just happened suddenly,” Jaxson blurted out guiltily.
“It’s fine,” I found myself saying. Liliana’s mouth fell open and Jaxson stuttered, ‘W–What?”
“It is—really. I’m not just saying it. I mean, I’m not giving you my approval or blessing, I don’t want to see you two together in front of me all the time, but I’m not going to break you both up or anything like that. I need to go,” I said uneasily. It was beginning to get really dark.
“Let me make sure you get home safely, at least,” Jaxson urged.
“I’m not your girlfriend anymore, Jaxson, I’ll be fine on my own.”
“Please, I need to do this. I wasn’t there that night, the last time I said goodbye to my girlfriend I thought I was going to see her in two days’ time. Instead, I never did, I lost her. I was just about to say goodbye to Val and Lily,” he pressed.
“Okay,” I conceded, preferring to endure his presence if it meant I wouldn’t walk back alone and unguarded.
Liliana looked concerned still not believing that I wasn’t going to steal him back from her. I couldn’t be bothered to waste my breath trying to convince her otherwise.
“Let’s go. Bye, Valerie, bye, Liliana,” I muttered underneath my breath wanting to bypass the awkward goodbye.
“Bye,” they both chorused in relief.
Jaxson sped up to catch up to me, not too close, thank God—a whole other body could fit in between us.
“I still miss you, Em,” he whispered as if the words scared him.
“Don’t let Liliana catch you saying that,” I replied coldly. “There’s no hope for you and me, it’s a little late for you to profess your feelings for me,” I scorned. “You’re with my cousin now, and I’d never do what she did to me. Don’t get me confused with her.”
“I think a part of me will always love you. You were my first love,” he admitted, pulling his black hair back out of his face. His ocean blue eyes flared with forgotten memories of the two of us.
“I’ll always be fond of you,” I replied, “But I’m not the same person I was when we were together. Even if you had come to see me, I would have pushed you away. I don’t think I’m capable of having an intimate relationship anymore, and it wouldn’t have been fair for you to stay when I couldn’t give you what you deserve to have. The result still would have been the same; we would have drifted apart. I’m still angry at you though for not coming!” I replied teasingly, letting him off the hook.
I sped up faster; the less time we had together, the better.
“I know. I was a coward. I had this perfect image of you in my mind and I didn’t want to taint it. And I was scared; I was scared of seeing you differently. I wasn’t there for you and it kills me because I should have been. I should have held you every time you cried, I should have told you everything was going to be okay. I’m sorry, Emerson. I’m sorry I gave up on you when you were in pain,” he cried.
“You were a boy then…too weak to face me, but now you’re a man and you’re able to own up to your shortcomings. Thank you for apologizing. It doesn’t change the past but it releases a bit of the anger that has been lying dormant inside of me,” I smiled fleetingly.
Arriving at my house, I got out my keys from my pocket and slipped it in the keyhole.
“You were right, Emerson, you have changed. But I can see that you haven’t completely changed. You didn’t have to forgive Liliana, Valerie, and me but you did. One of the things that first drew me to you wasn’t your beauty, it was your grace. It’s still there and it still shines out of you. Let me know if you ever need anything,” Jaxson said.
“Thanks, Jaxson, but this isn’t goodnight, it’s goodbye. I hope you and Liliana are happy together,” I responded tiredly, but truthfully.
“I know you’re not happy right now, Em, but you will be someday real soon,” Jaxson replied sincerely as I unlocked the door and shut it behind me. I hoped he was right, because right now all I felt was darkness surrounding me. My demons were shadowing me, blacking out any possibility for future happiness.
“SO TELL ME, Emerson, how are you?” Doctor Fleur asked, taking a seat opposite me. She was very direct with her questions, and she never held anything back. I liked her no bullshit approach, but I liked being a closed off, bundle of enigma more.
“I’m doing pretty good,” I replied.
“Emerson, I’m not asking because I have to, I’m asking because I genuinely care. I’ve had a hard day, give me a break, will you?” Doctor Fleur begged. I saw that under her perfect mask she was really tired. I understood how that felt.
“Fine, I’m exhausted,” I relented.
“You haven’t been taking your pills, have you?” Doctor Fleur eyed me critically.
“No, I don’t like feeling like a zombie.”
“You know you don’t make it easy on yourself, Emerson,” she said, shaking her head in disapproval. “I guess that means we’re going to have to work through why you’re having your nightmares.”
“They’ve never stopped,” I replied morosely. “In them I wake up because a voice is calling me. I don’t want to wake up because I feel unsafe, but eventually I can’t ignore the voice any longer. When I open my eyes all I see is red. Blood red. I wait for the voice to speak again but no one talks. I don’t understand why I’m still having these visions,” I admit with confusion. “Why won’t they stop?”
“They are figments of your imagination cultivated from your fear of the unknown. You can’t remember what happened to you so your brain is imagining the worst-case scenario. You have to deal with what happened, otherwise the nightmare will just keep reoccurring,” she delivered with expertise.
“How can I deal with it when I bear the physical proof of what happened to me?” I cried, showing her my scars. “I have to know what happened, can’t you try hypnotherapy or something?” I asked, desperately.
“The brain is a fragile thing. It’s stored away the memory of that night in a place beyond your reach for a reason, Emerson. Maybe you should leave it alone,” she advised seriously, warning me off.
“You said I might never get it back, but Katia was beginning to,” I protested.
“What . . . When? She never told me,” Doctor Fleur muttered to herself, a crazed look in her eyes. “Did she tell you what she remembered before she died?” She threw at me before I could answer her first lot of questions.
“It was on the night she died,” I swallowed with difficulty. “I wanted to ask her what she remembered but she wanted to be alone, she said she needed to mull it over. She said she didn’t know if her nightmare was real or not, but I knew she believed it was. I’ve never seen her react the way she did, she was curled up in a ball rocking herself,” I said, lost in the memory of it.
“Maybe if you’d told me I could have helped her,” Doctor Fleur snapped, her hands wrapping around her eyes in distress.
I flinched, taken aback, but felt the truth of her words resonate deep in my bones. “You’re right,” I said hoarsely, “I’m sorry, I was stupid. I should have gotten you, I should have . . .”
“No, I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry," she apologized sending me a reassuring weak smile. “I was channeling my own guilt, pushing it onto you. It wasn’t your job to take care of Katia’s mental health. It was mine, I was scheduled to check on her that day. I was doing my rounds, but I was running late because one of my patients had relapsed.”
“We were both just a little too late,” I whispered, looking away. “I see her sometimes,” I admitted.
“How?” she said with eagerness, bending closer. Then obviously remembering her professionalism, she coughed delicately, “I mean, you know she’s gone, Emerson,” she reminded me like I didn’t painstakingly remember it every second.
“I’ve been seeing her in my nightmares. My nightmares were already bad but lately they’ve gotten even worse. I wake up, hearing Katia whimpering, crying for help. It’s her voice begging me to wake up. I was beginning to think my original nightmare might be real, but it can’t be. Katia wasn’t hurt on the same night as me or anywhere near the location I was found. Your theory has to be right. My brain must be making it up out of guilt. Maybe I do need to start taking the pills again,” I muttered more to myself than to her.
“I think that would be best under the circumstances,” she advised, reaching into her bag and handing me a bottle.
“Do you keep a stash of those on you at all times or do you have an addiction that the institution isn’t aware about?” I laughed.
“No, I just know you, Emerson. You have to stop hurting yourself because of the guilt. I’ll be happy when I never have to see you again. And just before your brain begins to psychoanalyze that statement, I mean it in the best way. I want you to get healthy as much as your father does.”
I nodded, the emotion making my throat tight. I had thrown away my old bottle in the bin so I wouldn’t be tempted to take them. I took them from her. Maybe I’d keep them on hand—for emergencies only.
“HEY, EMERSON, YOU’VE got mail,” my dad alerted me the next day before tossing an envelope my way.
I turned and caught it, my attention lured away from my MacBook Pro laptop screen where I’d been contemplating enrolling for a double degree in psychology and social work at my local college. I could opt to do the course online and I’d only ever have to go in for assessments.
“Thanks, Dad,” I replied with a small smile.
“So, who’s it from?” he asked. “I promise I didn’t look at the contents, I’ve heard how teenage girls can be about their privacy,” he said, rubbing his neck.
“Where’d you learn that from…a self-help book on how to deal with angst-filled teenagers?” I scoffed.
My dad looked away, a clear sign of his guilt. “Close, I watched a documentary.”
“Really?” I asked with shock. “I was just joking, Dad.”
“I’m a single parent, I need all the help I can get,” he blushed in embarrassment. Now I just felt bad.
“Uh, that’s okay. I’ll open the envelope now,” I responded, trying to break up the awkwardness. I quickly tore open the envelope and my eyes spanned across the crisp, expensive letter.
Dear Ms. Monsoon,
We are pleased to inform you that your scholarship application for admission to Thorne University has been approved. You have been accepted into the Psychology and Social Work Program.
I stopped then reread the letter, again and again each time the words getting blurrier.
“Emerson, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” Dad asked with fear in his voice.
“It’s an acceptance letter,” I croaked, in between catching my breath. My chest was heaving up and down, shaking, and the words on the page were dancing. I couldn’t look away from it.
“From which university? Emerson, you’re scaring me,” he urged with trepidation.
I held up the page to him, and made sure that as he took it from me that my skin didn’t accidentally brush up against his, the shaking making it harder.
“This is an acceptance letter to Thorne University . . . But I thought we agreed that you’d stay here and go to the local college,” he garbled out.
I wrapped my arms around me to try and stop the shaking. “I applied to Thorne University before . . . When I was still at Zaston Institution with Katia, before she . . . we planned to go there together. We were going to have a fresh start,” I replied, my voice hitching.
His mouth opened and closed several times. He took a step forward, his arms raised to embrace me, but when he realized what he was about to do he took a step back and brought them back to his side.
“Dad, I need to go to Thorne,” I cried, tasting the saltiness of my tears on my cracked lips.
“No, you can’t, that wasn’t the plan,” he burst out, pacing up and down in frustration.
“Dad, I need you to listen to me, please,” I begged. He stopped and nodded his head, giving his consent. “You need to let me go. I know you’re scared to, the truth is, I am, too. But I have to do this for me and for Katia.”
“You haven’t healed being back here at all, have you?” he asked, searching my face. Now it was my turn to look away, I didn’t know how to answer him without hurting his feelings.
“I know you don’t sleep at night even though you pretend you do. I hear you moving about and you look exhausted all the time. It’s partly my own fault, I didn’t know how to be here for you,” he whispered sadly.
“No, you have been, Dad,” I protested strongly. “We’re just two people who don’t know how to say how they feel. But that doesn’t mean we don’t show it in different ways. I think it’s for the best if I go. I’m holding you back, Dad,” I admitted out loud for the first time.
“W–What?” he stuttered. “No, that’s not true,” he denied.
“Yes, it is. I know where you’ve been going out at night, Dad. I followed you one time.”
“You had no right!” he said, stalling.
“I know. It was an invasion of privacy. You deserved to introduce her to me at a time when you thought it was right and you were ready to. I’m sorry I took that away from you,” I apologized.
“I didn’t leave you unprotected every time I left. I had a state-of-the-art security system installed,” he defended.
“I know. You’re always trying to protect me. Why haven’t you introduced her to me yet?” I questioned gently.
“You know why,” he replied with uncomfortable force.
“Are you ashamed of me?” I inquired calmly, while inside I was panicking, my emotions were a raging torrent.
“No, of course not, no!” The words tore from my dad’s throat in objection. “No, Emerson . . . it’s just that you’re fragile and I didn’t know how you would react. You’ve had to endure so much already. I didn’t want to make it worse, and a part of me was worried that you’d ask me to give her up. I will if that’s what you want,” he added quickly.
“I’d never ask that of you, Dad. Throughout it all you’ve never left, which is why I need to leave for you. I get why you see her every night, you needed a breather from me—some sense of normalcy and happiness and she’s a breath of fresh air. I understand. I’m not going to ruin it for you. You deserve to have a woman who adores you.”
“I wish I could hug you right now, Em,” Dad replied with a thick throat.
“I wish I would let you,” I smiled forlornly back. “Want to hear something funny?” I asked, wanting to change the topic. The intensity was making me want to retreat back into my shell, and it wasn’t fair to him for me to armor back up when we were opening up to each other so well.
“Sure, lay it on me,” he smiled, and I could see the relief in his eyes.
“Back in the hospital, one time I heard Doctor Fleur call my mother Mrs. Monsoon, for a crazy second I thought that you two were still married!” I proclaimed.
“Not a chance in hell,” Dad fired back with horror, and I laughed for the first time in ages, feeling light. “Our divorce was finalized not long after I kicked her out.”
“Why did you kick her out?” I asked.
“I don’t want to say…some things are better left in the past. Cressida has said that she’s changed. I don’t think she has but as much as I want to protect you, if I am wrong, it wouldn’t be right of me to prejudice you against her. I’m not asking you to give her a second chance; trust me, I don’t want her anywhere near you, but I don’t want to take away your chance of having a mother like any other normal teenager,” he explained.
“I don’t want to give her another chance,” I denied without a shred of doubt.
“You may feel like that now, but later on you might feel different about it. There are so many things that I can’t give you that a mother can . . . I mean, advice about sex, getting pregnant . . .” he said getting redder as he went on.
“Ugh, Dad, please stop right there!” I cried in disgust.
“I learned that from the documentary, too,” he justified.
“No more documentaries! Please, promise me!” I begged.
“Alright, alright,” he appeased to my great relief. “I guess I’ll just have to ask Marie about those things instead.”
“Is that her name?”
“Yes. And I know that you want to meet her, but I’m not ready for you two to meet yet. It’s still in the early days for the two of us,” he said speedily.
“How long have you been together?”
“About three weeks or so.”
“Well, make sure there’s no intimate relations until your heart catches up with your libido,” I said, needing to get him back for embarrassing me.
“Emerson!” he yelled, completely mortified.
“Turnabout is fair play!” I yelled back.
“Fine, then I’m okay with you leaving me. How soon can you go?” he asked with desperation.
“You’re letting me go?” I said, holding my breath, secretly wanting his approval.
“I guess I am,” he spoke slowly. “I don’t have much of a choice. You are eighteen, I don’t have any control over what you do anymore,” he replied gruffly.
“I’d still like your approval,” I said shyly, looking down at my feet.
“I know I don’t say it, but I’m proud of you, Emerson. I want to keep you here forever under the careful watch and protection of my state-of-the-art security system, but I want you to be happy. I do have one condition though,” he added, putting a slight damper on my exuberance.
“What is it?”
“I still want you to have your sessions with Doctor Fleur, just to make sure you stay on track. I know she doesn’t do phone sessions, but she likes you, I’ll know she’ll make an exception,” he threw out before I could blockade him with that same excuse.
I groaned. “Fine, you drive a hard bargain. I’m willing to make that concession.”
“You’re leaving just when I thought I’d gotten you back for good.” My dad said, shaking his head.
“You haven’t lost me, Dad. I’ll be hundreds of miles away but there’s always holidays,” I said consolingly.
“Yeah, right, once you get a taste of university life you won’t be rushing to come on back here. I guess I’ll just have to come to you then,” he said with resolution.
“You’d really do that?” I asked with a hopeful smile.
“Just try and stop me,” he said with a mirrored smile on his face.