Okay guys, I'm not going to start off this story very "happily," as usual and the only reason why is because this story is going to be very...odd, depressing, happy, and just a mix of emotions will evoke out of all of you. I got this idea, don't ask how, spur of the moment I guess. I really see a huge amount of potential in this story and I hope all you reading this story do to!
WARNINGS-REALLY BIG WARING: This story is about 9/11,not directly about it though. Eli, in this story is a survivor of 9/11. I want to give my respects for anyone who knows somebody who ent through this event and still lived. And, even for the ones who had passed away, I am very sorry for your loss.
WARNING #2: Sex, Depression, Possible Self-Harming, Abuse, traumatizing flashbacks, etc...etc. w
WARNING#3: ELI AND CLARE WILL BE OOC AT SEVERAL POINTS...
For those of you who don't know what 9/11 is, please look it up on Google or anywhere, you'll soon realize why this is such a harsh and upsetting topic.
A Special Thank You to my Beta Reader-lizzzxx0
BEFORE YOU READ THIS HERE ARE THE AGES:
ELI-22
CLARE-24
Now that you've all been warned about this story, please enjoy the first chapter of Killed By An Angel...
KILLED BY AN ANGEL-CHAPTER 1
ELI'S PERSPECTIVE
I promise myself every night before I go to sleep that when I would wake up, I'd be a changed man.
My hair won't be tossed to the side, my eyes won't be baggy, my hands won't shake at the sound of an airplane, my foot won't tap when I hear a slight ticking noise in my ear, I won't have the sudden urge to vomit from nauseousness, and I wouldn't be...me.
Isn't it horrible that I have the strongest desire to not be me?
"So, he hasn't talked in a year?" I heard a supposed new psychiatrist ask my mother outside my bedroom door.
To answer the soon-to-be hated by me person asking my mother this question was, yes.
I have gone through ten psychiatrists in the past year since, since what happened, and I have given each and every one of them the silent treatment. All I had received from all of them was an equal amount of harassment and questions.
Some of them even got so frustrated with my behavior they would ask:
"Well, what's wrong with you?"
"Why won't you talk? It's not like you were shot or something."
"I give up, you little stubborn jerk."
"The least you can do is talk to me. I'm being paid to sit in a room with a kid who doesn't know how to talk and you know what? That's fine with me because I'm still getting a check in the mail from your mother."
I feel bad for putting my mother through this, but, I didn't want to talk.
If I would talk...if I would try, it could possibly cause it to happen again.
I shut my eyes tightly to avoid the scenes that were replaying in my head, but, turns out it only made it worse. The disturbing images raced through my mind faster than lightning. My nose wrinkled in attempt to relax my face and open my eyes again.
I just wish the pictures in my mind would be erased.
The past few months have been rough, between my parents fighting about how I won't say a word to any of them and their love slipping away, they don't know which is worse. I have successfully remained quiet through the past people who have "tried" to talk to me and I intend on keeping it that way.
Within two hours, each psychiatrist who passes into my room, ends up leaving and giving up on me.
Sometimes I wish one of them would come back in the hopes that maybe I will talk and I will tell them my problems, but, until that "one," comes back I'm not going to talk.
I sat up on my bed, leaning my back against the headboard and sighing. I soon began to grow impatient for this person and when I was about to give up on this doctor already, she opened the door and my eyes averted to her glowing figure.
I eyed her up and down.
She was going to be different, I could tell by the determined look on her face.
"Hi," she said nodding at my mom who stood at the doorway crying her eyes out. The woman flashed her a reassuring smile and then slowly closed the door, leaving us alone.
We remained silent as she examined me from the three foot distance between each other.
I gestured to the chair next to my bed and she smiled taking it and plopping down on it. She was already different in my eyes. This woman had these bright blue eyes, they were so sharp and piercing that I couldn't stop staring at them.
When I actually took a second to glance at the rest of her, I noticed that she was...young.
She wasn't a two hundred year old bag lady who carried a clip board and threw questions at me left and right. So far, she wasn't saying a word, and I was pretty surprised at her behavior towards me. I didn't know why, but, this kind of silence had comforted me.
I smirked at her when we made eye contact and she said, "I'm Clare."
Clare, what a beautiful name.
This was the first person in my life that I had met since the...since what happened to me that hasn't been forty feet down my throat and yelling at me to talk.
I kind of liked her for that.
In response, I just nodded.
"I'm not much of a talker either," she whispered.
She crossed her legs patiently, and flashed me a smile glancing around my room. I watched her eye lids as they moved from side to side and my eyes followed down to her short slender neck. I blinked repeatedly and then just stared down at my interlocked hands.
After five minutes had passed in silence, Clare said, "You know, when I was little, I was just as quiet as you. When I noticed your file in my office, I just had to take it. My father died in nine eleven and when I noticed that you were...you were a survivor-."
Clare stopped what she was saying and wiped the tear that streamed down her cheek and sighed.
"Sorry," she whispered.
I shook my head and got up as she watched my every move and I stood a clear distance from her, handing her a tissue from the tissue box.
Clare smiled and said, "Thanks."
Why did I have the sudden urge to talk to this woman and comfort her by telling her everything was going to be okay?
"Like I was saying, when I saw your file Eli, you just seemed like such a unique person," she whispered and I wondered how unique I could be considering my file was empty because I never talked.
I sat back down on my bed, and I heard the bed creak awkwardly.
Clare opened her mouth to say something and then she left her mouth agape as she slowly glanced at me up at down, like I had done earlier to her. She sat there, just glaring at me and smiling every few minutes and then remaining silent.
It was strange because she wasn't writing anything or examining my behavior like some lab rat.
"You know, strangely, I don't mind the silence. I understand why you don't like to talk..." she spoke once again after an hour of pure silence.
She whispered, "Silence lets you clear your head, it gives you a way out. When you talk, you can get caught in your words and then...then you're stuck there forever. But when your silent and you say something you don't mean, you can just erase it and not make a mistake. I just wish that maybe, maybe one day you'll talk. It doesn't have to be today, or tomorrow, or even in the next ten years."
Clare got up slowly, and I wanted more than anything for her to stay in this room of misery with me.
I got up, mirroring her action.
"If you don't want me to come back then speak up now, because I'll just walk out your door and never come back. But, if you ever want to talk again and we don't have a scheduled appointment you can come over and we can talk..."
She pulled out her card and handed it to me.
I smiled.
Clare placed her hand on my shoulder and said, "But, no matter what Eli, you should know that there is always someone out there waiting for you to speak up. Don't give up hope on life so easily. Maybe what happened to you happened for a reason..."
My face went expressionless at her choice of words.
I nodded and she said, "I hope to see you soon Eli."
CLARE'S PERSPECTIVE
I exited Eli's bedroom and trotted downstairs to spot his mother who sat on her couch, sipping coffee and smiled when she saw me.
She quickly got up and asked, "Did he talk to you?"
I smiled and said, "No, he didn't."
"Then why do you look so happy?" She snarled and I just smiled in response.
I placed a hand on her shoulder and said, "Mrs. Goldsworthy, in good time he will talk. Trust me, I can see it in his eyes. He wants to talk, he just needs time."
"Excuse me Ms. Edwards but, isn't one year enough time to talk?" She asked me just doubting her son's abilities.
My eyes averted to her husband who lay on a huge pullout chair, sleeping.
"No, actually in cases like these some people don't talk for years, sometimes decades," I pointed out to her and she opened her mouth then shut it slowly.
Eli, how to describe him. He's mysterious and was by far the only patient I've laid eyes on who I couldn't read. Eli could definitely be compared to an onion, you just have to peel back the pieces slowly and carefully and in good time you will be able to see the real him.
"Please don't take this the wrong way when I say this, but, due to the traumatizing event he has gone through, not talking was the only rational result," I told her as she nodded and tears dripped down her face.
I smiled and said, "Don't give up hope on him. He has an overwhelming amount of potential; you just have to wait to see it."
"He's twenty two years old Ms. Edwards! He is not going to walk down those steps one morning and just say 'Hey mom, what's for breakfast?' It's out of the question. It's too late! That's not my baby boy in that room. I can't even recognize him anymore. He walks around this house like a mime. He never talks anymore or even smiles for that matter," she whispered obviously missing the way Eli used to act before the event.
I sighed and spoke in a calming tone, "Please, Mrs. Goldsworthy, your son is the most unique and interesting person I've ever tried to help. I have gone through helping so many people through their problems and they always make it through feeling better. Just, give your son the time he needs."
"I'm sorry Ms. Edwards, it's just we've gone through most of the top psychiatrists around and we still result in the same thing, Eli not talking. What makes you think that you're any different than the others?" She asked not meaning to sound insulting as she did.
"Cece, is it okay if I call you by your first name?" I asked smiling hopefully.
She nodded.
"Cece, your son is going through something that none of us can compare to. You and I cannot feel what he is feeling right now. We don't know what happened when he was stuck in those towers that day, we don't know what he saw, or what happened to him that caused him to react in such a drastic measure as to not speaking. But, I assure you that if you believe in him, trust him, and just love him for who is right now, he'll speak."
I continued, "He will."
Even though Eli had been silent the whole session, I wasn't going to give up. The smile he gave me when I handed him my card showed me he wanted to speak right then and there. But, even though he didn't, it didn't mean he wasn't going to for the rest of his life.
"I hope so," she whispered and she wrapped her arms around me, crying in my arms.
"It'll be okay Cece," I told her and rolled my eyes looking at her lazy "husband" who was passed out cold and not paying any attention.
She pulled away and asked, "How are you so calm? How do you have so much experience with this situation? How are you so positive in dealing with a person like Eli?"
I smiled and held back the tears that threated to fall out of my eyes, "My father died on nine eleven. He was a fire fighter, lost his life fighting. They never found his body, but, he'll always live on in my heart. When he left me, I had no one. He was the only family I had. My mother had died when I was little so when I lost him, I was devastated. I was lost and I was also just like Eli so I'm saying please, don't give up on him yet. Don't."
"I won't," she whispered and I smiled letting tears fall from my eyes.
When I turned to walk out the door, I saw Eli standing on the staircase and Cece asked, "Do you want to say something to Clare, honey?"
He stared me down and smirked, moving his hand up and down, waving at me.
Tears streamed down his beat red face.
Eli was saying goodbye.
ELI'S PERSPECTIVE
"This isn't goodbye Eli," she whispered and smiled.
I glanced at my mother and she looked at me with tears of joy, waiting for me to say something.
I shook my head lightly and Clare smirked, "It's alright Eli, next time."
My smirk formed into a smile, and my stomach exploded with butterflies due to excitement of seeing this girl again.
She was going to come back...I knew she was different.
END OF CHAPTER 1
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Really don't know what to say besides I hope you guys give me a chance to write a second chapter...
I'll promise you it'll get better.. (;
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Love you guys,
Cliffhanger Girl
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