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I wonder if they have any sisters, any wives, any women who are crucial in their lives. They say there is no sibling bond like that between a brother and a sister. My sister and I are close, but it’s more of a friendly kind of closeness. We’ve always shared clothes, we trusted each other with our deepest secrets, we cried on each other’s shoulders. But, when it comes to protection, she isn’t the one I’d expect it from. I would expect it from a brother, from a boyfriend, from a partner. I wonder what it would have been like to grow up as a sister to these men. How protective they would be. How loving. How caring. I smile at the thought.
“No,” I shake my head, not realizing that I’m smiling. It’s an eerie smile, almost frightening, like the smile of a person who is walking that thin line between madness and sanity. “We ran away from the two men and D… and the guy ran after us. We were running for a long time. I remember being tired, so tired that I could barely keep myself standing, but I kept on going. I knew if I stopped, that would be it. He would probably kill me. So, I kept on running, pain cutting through me like a sharp knife with every breath I took. And, all the while, this girl was in front of me. I didn’t want to lose sight of her. It’s not that I wanted her to protect me. I mean, how could she? She was in the same messed up situation as I was. But she was my light in the darkness. I felt that if I lost her, I would lose myself. So, I kept running after her, hoping that she somehow knew the way, even though that was crazy to expect. We were both brought here, in the middle of nowhere. Of course, neither of us knew where we were or how to get out of there. She just kept on running, until there was nowhere else to run to.” My voice trails off here and I know I need to continue my story and tell them what happened. They need to know. It’s just hard. It’s so hard.
“Just, take your time,” Theron tells me, his soothing voice helping. “You can tell us later what happened, if it’s easier.”
&n
bsp; “No,” I interrupt him. “I want to tell you. It’s just… difficult…” I breathe heavily, like there’s a heavy rock placed on my chest. “We reached the end of the path. The edge… it was a cliff. A high cliff. I didn’t look down. I… I was a bit further away. She reached the edge. And then, she turned around. She saw him first. I didn’t need to turn around. I knew he was there just by seeing the look on her face. He caught up with us and he was about to take us back to the van. I didn’t take my eyes off of her. I couldn’t. I wanted to be by her side, but I was frozen in place. I couldn’t move. I just kept on watching. The girl… her hair was floating in the wind. She was bathing in the sun. I… I had no idea she was going to do that. She had something in her hand. Something I later realized was a photo. She said to tell her son that she loves him. And then, she jumped. I think I didn’t hear her fall. I couldn't have, right? But now, I think my mind created a sound for it. It’s like I needed to hear her fall, to hear that she did escape, at least in that way. I wanted to be sure that she died, that she didn’t suffer. But I didn’t dare look down. The guy… he pulled me by the elbow. He cursed. He spat. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone get so mad. We got back to the van and that’s where it happened.”
My throat is drier than the Sahara. I feel like I didn’t have a drop of water in days. That’s how much this story exhausted me. Zarael reads my body language and immediately rushes for the pitcher of water and pours me a glass. I drink it thirstily, emptying it in one big desperate gulp.
“I didn’t know you had to see that,” Theron’s voice is soft and soothing. He talks like a loving protector. “No one should ever see that.”
“I…” My lips are trembling. My heart is beating wildly and I fear it’ll jump out of my chest and I will remain heartless forever. “I never even knew her name…”
With those words, I break down and my whole body starts to shiver uncontrollably. Tears start rolling down my face, big and salty. The kind of tears you would cry when your whole world is about to crumble down before your feet and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it. I’ve never been afraid to cry. Not even now. My silvery tears just run down and I don’t see the sunshine through the storm anymore. The leftover tears, the tears that I never showed to the world, the tears that know the name of that liberated woman but will not reveal the secret to anyone. Tears that tear apart, but that have the power to build back up from the ashes, healing along the way.
I feel two pairs of arms around me, trying to shield me from the pain, but they can’t. They can only protect me from the pain and hurt that comes from outside. How could they ever protect me from the pain that comes from within?
Chapter 22
Dex
I get the feeling that she’s been avoiding me the whole day. I wonder if she heard me yell. Did I yell loud? I probably was. I usually do. Especially when I’m pissed like that. But I cool down quickly after and I think this is the part that she hasn’t learned about me yet. And today, I haven’t had the chance to talk to her, since she crashed off my bike like that.
I pass by Theron’s shack and I hear voices. So, she’s talking. I hear her voice, melodious and soft. She’s fine. At least, as fine as she could be, under the circumstances. As I pass by, I slow down my pace. I hear Zarael’s voice, too. All three are there. I want to join them. There are some things she’d best hear from me, not from Theron or Zarael.
For the first time, I feel tongue tied around a girl. I never had this problem before. I don’t know why, when she’s just a girl. A girl like any other. That’s what I try to tell myself, the heavy machinery of my brain working round the clock to explain this over and over again, but my tongue doesn’t listen. All I could ever do was impress girls and I didn’t have to do much talking for that. I’d just flex a little and that was that. They’d fall for me easily. Sometimes, I barely had to lift my finger. But Isabel is different. She doesn’t care about any of that superficial bullshit and that’s exactly what I’ve been focusing on all this time with girls. Just meaningless one-night stands. I wasn’t even interested in hearing what they had to say, unless it concerned me somehow, or how awesome I am.
Instinctively, I hurry up and pass Theron’s shack. Quickly, before they could even notice I was close by. I know exactly where I need to be. I just need to get this out of my system and I’ll be my old self. I bet I could get her to bed if I wanted to. Sure, I could. She’s just a girl, after all. But, there’s something wrong. I don’t see her as a one-night stand. Is this what it feels like when you care about someone who isn’t your blood relation?
As soon as I enter my sanctuary, I scan the room for my boxing gloves. They shine, all red, in the corner where I left them last time. My babies. I slide my hands into them. A perfect fit every time. There’s nothing else in the world that accepts me in the way that they do. For them, I’m enough, I’m perfect as I am. I walk confidently over to the punching bag. I rest my hands on its sides, feeling its heaviness. I slide my hands up and down, and my first punch is hard, strong, sudden. I don’t hold back. My anger flows out of me with each following punch.
One. Two. Three. I barely exhale.
I don’t know how long it lasts until I finally stop. I feel exhausted, spent. My soul is dislocated from my body. I’m so tired it’s crazy. After every session like this one, there is a process of recovery I undergo. It never takes long. I’m usually OK by the following day. I drink some water and wipe my sweaty forehead. My t-shirt is soaked. I’m dying for a shower, after such a workout and a good night’s rest. Yeah, that’ll do the trick.
At that moment, I hear someone knocking. I twitch my head in the direction of the door, wondering. It’s never locked. All my brothers know that. I’m usually the one who spends most of my time here, but they know they don’t need to knock.
“Come in!” I shout, hopeful of who I’m going to see.
Isabel slowly opens the door and enters. She’s wearing a soft smile. It almost looks like she’s shyly trying to apologize for the interruption. Instead of saying anything, she just waves and keeps smiling.
“Hey…” I tell her, still breathing heavily. A few deep breaths steady my breathing.
“Hey,” she repeats, closing the door behind her. She looks confused, a little, blushing. Like someone used a bit too much red on her cheeks. But it suits her. She looks sweet.
She takes a few steps to me and even manages to look at me in the eyes as she does so. I think she’s the shyest girl I’ve ever met. I can’t even imagine how she must have felt those two weeks here while she was told not to speak unless it was necessary. Her round cheeks look like apples and the Devil in me wants to take a bite. Her messy curls are falling down her back and she lifts her hand to try and tame one that fell over her right eye. Her blushing feels so amazing, like she doesn’t belong to this world. She’s got a delicate kind of sweetness, like candy they don’t make anymore. They’ve stopped making it because not many people liked the taste of it. When you’d put it in your mouth, it’d be bitter and sour at first, you’d have to keep sucking at it to reach the sweet creamy inside. Not everyone has the patience for that.
“You know,” she suddenly starts talking and she’s got my attention. “Out of everyone here, you’re the most difficult one to talk to.” As she says those words, she sounds so honest that I can’t stop myself from laughing.
“Really?” I ask, when I’m able to catch my breath. She’s so cute I could eat her up. Literally.
“Yes,” she nods. “I hate it, because I think you’re the one who’s played the main role in saving me.”
“Well, now,” I rake my fingers through my hair. That ego boost feels really nice. “I can’t take all the credit, even though I’d really like to, believe me.”
“In any case, I’d like to thank you,” I hear her say. “And also, to apologize.”
