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“The day I arrived, Drix was kicking a ball in the backyard of our foster parents’ home. The social workers introduced me to him briefly, leaving me to sit and watch him whilst they gave our foster parents my personal file. At this point, I was beyond terrified,” she explains, her eyes glossing over from the memory. “I was an empty shell. Hollow. I had no idea of the concept of suicide at that age, but I knew that I didn’t want to live, that I didn’t know what living even was. All I knew was pain, sadness, and despair. All I felt was this gaping hole, this emptiness inside of me.”
Releasing one of my hands, she rubs her palm over the centre of her chest, her fingers trembling.
“I didn’t move from the spot on the step they’d left me on. I just sat and watched Drix kick that football around. He asked me to play with him, but I couldn’t. When he realised I wasn’t going to join in, he came and sat down next to me. He didn’t say a word. He simply put his arm around my shoulder and held me. I cried in his arms for an hour, Lia, and he just held me until I was spent, knowing instinctively that’s what I needed the most. To be held with kindness.”
In that moment, I’m reminded of all the times Drix has held me in his arms, how safe he’d made me feel, and a lump forms in my throat. Neither one of us speaks as she lets that information slowly sink in.
“At the time I had no idea about the level of trauma he’d been through, because on the surface he seemed like any other kid his age. It wasn’t until I was sixteen that he finally told me what happened the night his dad murdered his mum.”
“Oh God, I’m not sure I’m ready to hear this,” I admit.
“Drix saw everything, Lia. He witnessed his father stab his mum multiple times with a knife. The post-mortem revealed that she had twenty-seven wounds. The only reason Drix survived is because he hid in his mum’s wardrobe. When his father left, he tried to bring her back to life…” Daisy’s voice trails off as she chokes on the words, and I have to stifle my own sob. “He blames himself for her death, you know.”
“He was just a child, what could he have done?” I ask.
“We both know he couldn’t have done anything, but he’s been left with the scars of that night, and has carried them with him all these years. He holds on to so much guilt, Lia. Yet, despite that, he still has this big, beautiful heart. This huge capacity to love. Please don’t undervalue that.”
“I understand he’s been through something horrific. I do, Daisy, and I hate that for him. I hate that he had to experience so much trauma, but…”
“But?”
“But the way he lost it with that guy who hurt you, I’m afraid of that kind of violence. I’ve lived in fear for so long. I spent years walking on eggshells around Martin. He would turn at the flip of a switch. What if…?” I can’t even bear to say the words, to express them out loud.
“Drix wouldn’t hurt you. He couldn’t. He loves you, so, so much, Lia. You and Toby.”
“You can’t know that for sure.”
Daisy heaves out a breath, blinking back her tears. “I do know that, and let me tell you why. For the next five years when we lived in foster care together, Drix took it upon himself to look after me. He kept me company, he coaxed me out of my shell, and slowly but surely I became a little girl again. In the day at least.”
“In the day?” I frown, not understanding.
“The only other people who know what I truly suffered as a child are Drix and Hubert. Even the social workers and the family who fostered me didn’t know half of it. I was picked up by a stranger on the side of a motorway and eventually handed over to social services. Most people believe I was abandoned by my parents, and whilst that is true, it’s not in the way they assume.”
“You don’t have to tell me if it’s too painful,” I say.
“I’m telling you because you need to understand why Drix is so protective of me, and why he did what he did.”
“Go on,” I say, softly.
“With Drix’s love and affection, I began to blossom. In the daytime, when the light was shining, I was able to claw back some happiness. Everything seemed so much better in the daylight, but at night, when darkness fell, I was thrown back into my past.”
“Nightmares?”
Daisy lets out a tremulous breath before pushing on. “More of a living nightmare. My parents used to keep me in a dark room, all day and all night, Lia.”
“My God, how evil,” I exclaim.
“They kept me chained to a bed, made me shit and piss in a bucket, and on the odd occasion when they remembered they had a daughter, they fed me scraps. I was no better than an animal to them. So at night, when darkness fell I became that tortured, caged little girl all over again. All the progress I made in the day evaporated until Drix figured out how to help me.”
“What did he do to help you?”
“He used to wrap his body around mine and hold me all night long. He gave me the warmth and the kindness I needed to get through those dark nights. He protected me, cared for me, became my rock all whilst he carried his own trauma within him. He never expected anything in return.”
Daisy gives me a tremulous smile, and I don’t have the words to express how bad I feel for her, how gutted I am that she had to endure so much, that they both did. Instead, I wait for her to continue.
“The night Jonathon dumped me so cruelly, something inside of me broke. It triggered all my past trauma and pain, and I spiralled into a very dark place. Drix witnessed me disappearing before his eyes, and two weeks after that night I overdosed on painkillers. I tried to kill myself, Lia. Drix found me, and because of his quick thinking I’m still alive today. He forced me to be sick, held me whilst I threw up. He wouldn’t leave my side. For a week he stayed with me in hospital. He loved me back to life, Lia. First as a child, and then again as an adult. That is why I know he’d never hurt you. The very core of him is good, Lia.”
He loved me back to life…
