I woke up in the hospital. I was terrified, I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t say a word.
“Relax Yasmine, we are running some more tests on you. You won’t be able to speak for a couple of hours. That was a huge falling you had” said the doctor while checking his clipboard. “Falling?” I thought to myself “When did I fall?” That didn’t make any sense.
My gaze got abstract, my pale face froze for a few minutes as I was trying to remember what had happened, how did I end up in the hospital, then I realized that from across the room it was my dad
giving me the sign to keep quite. Obviously he didn’t want me to speak up and blurt out all of his monstrous actions. He didn’t care about me at all, the only thing he wanted from me was to shut my
mouth. Why? What did I ever do to him? Why didn’t he love me, like most fathers love their daughters? I didn’t expect much, just love and support. I didn’t know what hurt the most; his
neglect or his belt.
Luckily by my side was my mum taking care of me and Christine, Norah was left with my grandma, she couldn’t see me like this, it would be too painful for her.
I was in pain as well, but not a physical pain, I was in an emotional ache. That was only the beginning. I had a few ribs broken, my throat was bruised and sore, and my lips were wounded badly.
“Let’s get you dressed and get you home honey” my mum said, she wouldn’t show any emotion in front of Christine but I could feel her remorse of not protecting me. Every touch of hers pleaded for
“I’ll be waiting for you in the car” my dad whispered to her ear.
It was a long drive. I didn’t want to think about anything else but Aiden. He gave me strength and power to keep on. Even though he wasn’t by my side, the thought of him in my mind lightened up my
face, put a smile on my lips which I could barely move. If he only knew how much I think about him, if he only knew the depth of my feelings for him. I could not stop looking outside the window
car, admiring nature’s beauty. The shiny sun was channeling a sense of warmth to my cold front, the birds’ song echoed like a cozy welcome back home, the leaves of the trees’ branches were dancing
to the wind’s rhythm. It was the perfect afternoon yet I was feeling empty and hopeless.
After we arrived home I went immediately to my bed, I wanted to get lost under the darkness of my blankets. And so I did.
After three hours of sleep, I woke up. It was 9pm. I felt my throat dry, my wounds were hurting, my head was dizzy, I pushed myself to stand up and take a walk around the house. It was surprisingly quite, no screams, no shouting, nothing, just the fresh air blowing the curtains through the open window. I needed to feel that fresh air taking over my body. I wore a jacket, my slippers and went outside.
I sat on the lawn, with my iPod on, music could calm me down in a second. I would close my eyes and fantasize that I was travelling far away, away from the misery. I was carefree, cheerful
and blissful. It was the best feeling ever.
“You know it’s chilly right,?” someone spoke. This voice was familiar. This voice had stuck in my mind and kept on playing over and over like the song of a nightingale, sweet and pleasant. OH
MY GOD! I knew this voice very well.
“Emm, hi Aiden. Yes it is pretty chilly,” I responded after a few seconds.
“What are you doing out here then?”
“I needed some fresh air. That’s all.”
“Do you mind if I join you?” he smiled at me.
“Sure, no problem,” I smiled back.
“Oh man what happened to you?” he asked me after he sat next to me. His blue eyes were staring directly at my injuries, his pupil was dilating at the image of my bruises, a feeling of compassion was drawn on his face.
“I fell down the stairs,” I could barely speak. My voice sounded weak, thin and whiny. “What are you doing here by the way?” I continued.
“I was at Stacy’s. But we had a big fight. I think we broke up,” he replied to my question, but he didn’t look upset about it, on the contrary, I would say he seemed relieved.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said indifferently, in fact I was lying, I wasn’t sorry at all.
“It was about time we broke up,” he mumbled while playing with the grass.
I wanted to take his hand, hold it tight, whisper to his ear that I’m here for him, that my heart belongs to him, that he can trust me. I would never hurt him or betray his love. I could be his and
he could be mine. I wish I had the courage to do that. So many thoughts were wandering inside my head. So many emotions overran my skin leading it to shiver.
We sat there silent, enjoying the fresh air under the moonlight. If only I could read his thoughts. Something was troubling him. Perhaps the break up. My head was full of questions.
“I guess I should be going, and you should better get inside,” he helped me get up.
“Yes you are right,” I didn’t want to push him into staying with me.
“Get better Yasmine,” he fondled gently my shoulder.
“Good night” I responded thankfully.
That was the first real conversation we had. I know I would never forget this day, this evening, this moment. Euphoria overwhelmed my body, my mind and my heart. I was happy for the first time.
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