Chapter 8: Haunting Memories
My shoulders began to shake slowly. I don't know why because I have nothing to be sad about that I haven't already cried over. But I know I can't hold myself together anymore. It was just a bird, nothing to be crying over.
But, maybe it wasn't the bird. Maybe it was everything; like reality just hit me hard in the back of my head knocking the tears right out of me.
"Oh, Charlotte," Trystan wails grabbing hold of my two shoulders and pressing my head against his chest, " Shh, baby, it'll be okay. Don't cry."
Why will it be okay? You know, don't you Trystan. You know I'm not crying for the missing baby bird. You know I'm crying because that baby bird reminds me of my dead mother, my drunk father and the rest of my fucked up life.
"It'll be alright," you repeat. You, Trystan, are making me angry; you and your unnecessary positive attitude. It is not going to be alright. My life and everything else is going to be thrown into the ocean. Me and the world I rest on my shoulders are going to sink to the bottom where no one will find us, therefore allowing us to die a painful death again.
"It's not going to be okay," I shout a little louder then I had planned, "can't you see, Trystan. My life is already down the drain. This is only making things worse. How can things be okay? I've hit rock bottom, the only thing I need to do now is die."
I've moved away from him now. I'm glaring at him, but he does not return that hateful glare. He is still looking at me with care and pity.
"Things are not going to be okay, Trystan. They have never been okay, and they never will be okay. Don't you get it! This is my life; this is what I have been dealing with all my life." He starts to come closer to me, tries to walk right through the thin invisible wall I've started to build in the few seconds I've managed to grasp a hold of. "Look, Charlotte, I know you're hurt. I know this isn't easy for you, but I want to help. I know how you feel."
"Don't tell me you know how I feel. According to everyone, they know how I feel. No one knows how I feel. Don't you understand? I hate this world. Everyone, they look at me with their fake smiles. Their pity. I can't stand this anymore!" I scream one last time then take off out the door.
I jump down my small staircase and run through the hallway.
"Charlotte!" I hear Trystan call. His quick pace footsteps follow closely behind. I run down the house stairs, two at a time, jumping the last four altogether. I run through the living room, but when I meet the door all I face is resistance.
I slam into the wood, but the lock is stuck, and my time is very limited. I don't open it. Instead I slam my fist against it hard. The pain starts from my fingers and works its way into my wrists and down my arm. I hit it again and again. I hit the door until my arm is numb completely.
Trystan comes up from behind me and grabs my waist. I slam my hand against his chest hard. I hear the breath get knocked right out of him. I keep hitting and kicking. I try to hurt him like everyone else has hurt me, but he doesn't leave. He doesn't move. What he does do, is grab me tighter. Pulls me towards him so that my arms are locked to my side; I struggle.
Trystan, sweet Trystan. Why do you not leave? Why do you not help everyone throw me overboard? Watch the murder of a seventeen year old girl, be a part of it. Enjoy it like every other human. Death, it surrounds us anyways. Who will miss one other girl, especially I? No one, that's the answer, so go off to your mother, buy your milk, and leave me be.
"Leave me alone. Stop it! I can't do this anymore!" I scream at him, but he does not loosen his grip.
My face is so wet, my eye sight so blurry. My legs feel weak. My hands hurt from the force. My entire body just gives up. I fall limb against Trystan, "I will never leave you," he doesn't quite whisper these words in my ear, but there's enough force behind them to make me believe him.
"Why?" I ask, "You don't know me." He sighs, and guides me over to the dusty couch, "I know you better then you think." I give him this look as to say, enlighten me.
"You are a girl who has lost everything. Or thinks she has lost everything; two identities. One fake, to show people what they want to see. A girl, who is strong, has everything; a life with no worries, fears or challenges that exceed higher than her everyday high school life.
"The other, a lonely girl who hides out in her room. Not someone who thinks their better than everyone else, but thinks they are a lowlife. No place in the world for you, so you captivate yourself. You think you're beneath everything. I bet you think the crappy pieces of furniture are higher then you, better.
"But the difference, Charlotte, is you see people for who they are. Or, you have seen them. Everyone you watch, they have all been cruel, fake, stuck up. And because all these people are like that, you have it in your head that everyone you meet is going to be like that, including me.
"You block yourself off. You make it so that no one can get close enough to hurt you. You create this invisible wall to hide behind, and as soon as anyone comes close to even creating a crack in that wall, you get scared and make it thicker, or worse, runaway."
I hate how he's right. It makes me cry harder. "Only one person has managed to break through me in my entire life." I manage to say. It wasn't a complete lie, but it wasn't the truth.
"Who was that?" I look up at Trystan. Into his kind, tired eyes, and say the one word that will most likely change everything, "you." But it wasn't just Trystan.
Then he was kissing me. Not just my lips, but my eyelids, cheeks, nose, jaw line. He kissed me everywhere. He sent my entire face into flames. My skin seared beneath his lips. Every touch made me feel more and more alive. We were so close. It felt like we were welded together.
Everything about him. His smell, his touch, his taste. Everything, it just makes me want him more.
I have to stop. I am not going to let him take over me completely. I am still me. I am still Charlotte, no matter how much he knows, no matter how much he can say; I am not going to let him get to me. I am going to perish this small bit that I still have ownership over. So I push him away, "stop." I say simply. That one four letter word has so much meaning to it, it scares me.
Trystan listens, but he does not like it. I can tell by the look on his face. The look of confusion. He leans back on his elbows, slightly out of breath, and just stares at me. No apology, no ask for an explanation, just looks at me. "You don't want me to. You hate how it's me." He finally says.
Yes, Trystan, I think, I am terrified that it's you. I am afraid of the feelings I conjure up for you. Afraid of you seeing the real me at my weakest moments. Afraid you'll judge me, hurt me, and leave me there to die.
"Of all the people, why you? I don't mean that in a bad way. It's just that, I don't know. I'm so confused. I've never been this confused. I usually know what's happening. I take it with force. Nothing gets passed me. So, why have I let you in?" I am talking more to myself then Trystan. Like saying it out loud makes it clearer. No such luck, I am still just as frazzled as before.
"Have you ever been in love, Charlotte?" Trystan asks. Love, what is it? A four letter word that'll stab you until your heart is unable to feel anything at all. Trystan, if I tell you, what will you do? What will you think of me; a helpless girl who really has lost everything? Should I lie to you, lose your trust altogether?
"Yes." I say, regretting it the minute it leaves my mouth. Your eyes widen with curiosity. Like this wasn't the answer you expected. You thought I was going to say no, I haven't let anyone into my life, and I have not fallen for anyone else. You are wrong Trystan.
"It was a year ago. He came into my life and swept me off my feet. Saved me from my mother. Literally pulled me off the streets. I was the same way with him, as I am with you right now. Scared, unsure, distant, but he didn't push. He was very sweet.
"I remember whenever I was upset, or mother and I got into another fight, he knew. I never understood how though. I never called him, never talked to him over the phone, but after every argument, I'd look out my window, and I'd see him standing there just under the tree.
"He'd climb up and just hold me until I was calm. I'd sit there and talk to him for hours."
I can't believe I am telling him this; my deepest secret.
"Truth is, I was in love with him. I allowed myself to get too close." Trystan sat there just listening to me. He isn't completely pushed away. He holds my hand, stroking it along the knuckles.
"What was his name?" he asks in a whispered voice. I hesitate, unsure if I'm able to say it aloud. "Daunavin. Daunavin Perry."
