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Title: Violence Recovery
Author: Buttons14
Genre: Drama
Rating: R
My notebook will explain there's nothing to gain and I can't fight the pain—Billy Talent, Nothing to Lose
Chapter 6—Ele
The smell of dinner is beginning to fill the main house. My stomach trembles, begging for a snack, but I ignore it and make my way to the dock. Everything is in place. The tall, rusty slide, the multitude of canoes and kayaks, the deep, wooden chairs on the deck. I sit in one of them and stare out into the lake. The surface is black and glossy, shimmering enticingly. A breeze ruffles through the orange leaves. I pull my jacket tighter.
Something moves just out of my view. I turn around. Nothing stirs but the slight shift of leaves on the ground. I turn back around. It was probably just the wind.
The dock creaks with the draft and somewhere behind me, in the main house, Medda calls out to someone.
A few minutes later I see it again. Something moves. It is a very slight movement, but I'm sure I saw it this time. I turn around and see nothing. My eyes dart around, searching. I stand and scan the dock. That's when I see it—
Or should I say her.
I walk over and sit beside her. She is sleeping, her eyes quivering lightly beneath her eyelids. He uneven brown hair is hanging wildly around her head, flying up with the wind.
"Hey Ele," I whisper, "how long have you been here?"
She stirs and cracks an eye open slightly. "Oh. Spot, it's you," she closes her eye again momentarily and then lifts her gossamer lids so that her clear eyes peer to me.
"Have you been here all day?" I ask, realizing that I hadn't seen her at lunch.
Ele reaches her arms above her head and flexes, stretching out her cramped muscles.
"Uh," she yawns, "since ten."
Instead of facing her, I now face out to the water. "What have you been doing here? You must have been freezing."
She is only wearing a long-sleeved grey shirt, a large, brown zip-up sweater and an over-sized jeans. Ele pulls her holey, jean-clad knees to her chest, resting her chin on them.
"I've been drawing," she answers softly.
I glance at her and notice a thin sketchbook cradled in her arm. I don't ask what she was drawing—it doesn't seem right. But she sees me looking and holds it out to me.
"Want to take a look?" she asks.
I reach forward and take the book from her fingertips. The last drawing was a picture of a woman. She had dark eyes and light hair. Her cheeks were hallowed and a cigarette was clasped between her lips.
"Who is this?" I ask.
Ele looks over the picture as if seeing it for the first time. Her brow furrows in thought. "That's my Aunt."
She doesn't looks like Ele. I sneak a quick look to Ele's face. She looks tired even though she just woke up.
"She gave me back to my father. When I was sixteen…so…almost two years ago."
The story is coming out.
"You know, Spot, I was adopted," she attempts what I can only explain as an apathetic smile. "My dad told me about it. My mom was a teenager when I was born and her parents made her give me up. He bought me from them."
She says 'he' like it's a swear word, like she doesn't want to hear it herself.
"And he did things Spot, things people just shouldn't do," thus far her voice is filled with bitterness and malice. Her eyes are bright and unwavering. But something is growing in the corner of them. "And he would say to me 'your own fucking mother was a slut, why should you be any better?'. And he'd touch me places when he was younger, and when I was older it got worse."
She pulls a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket and lights one. She takes a very long drag. Now she looks very much like her 'aunt'. He eyes are dead and her face is tired. The she clasps the cigarette with such strength that it seems like her only lifeline.
"And my aunt came and got me one day. He wasn't there to touch me anymore, but I would go to sleep hungry and she'd have men over. Spot, I don't know if I can trust men. And they would have sex in the living room while I was there and I saw things that I shouldn't have seen when I was only fifteen." She exhales, sending a cloud of bluish-grey smoke into the air. "And when I had to go back home," this is said like another filthy word, "I couldn't take it. How could anyone expect me to live like that? And Medda found me and I ran away."
She takes another long drag and when she exhales it is accompanied by a rough choking sound. I turn and there are tears streaming down her cheeks, the cigarette hanging limply in her fingers. I take the cigarette and throw it to the deck. Next I reach to Ele's arm and touch it lightly.
"Ele? How about I walk you back to your cabin, OK?"
She sniffs and nods, rubbing her face on her sleeve.
I help her to her feet and, on the way she leans heavily on my shoulder.
I knock on the door to her cabin and Sapphy helps me put Ele to bed.
0o0o0o0o0
I talk to Denton again.
"I didn't realize how bad it was for everyone," I tell him guiltily. "And how much better it is at VRCT."
Denton sighs and crosses his fingers roughly on the table. "Better, but still not good. If it was than Aurora would have let go of Jules, Crutchy wouldn't be hooked on pain killers, Ele wouldn't have an excuse to cut herself, Coin wouldn't be so moody and Racetrack wouldn't drink so much."
How does he know all of this? I don't know all of this.
"A lot of the times people only skim the surface for the problems. Dive in, get wet. The problems are about as easy to find as they are to solve."
End Chapter
Hey! Aren't you all proud of me? I updated really, really quickly!
REVIEW!
Shoutouts:
C.M. Higgins—Thanks! I love it when people include their favorite lines! It makes me fell all happy and like I'm appreciated!
Coin—I will keep that 'outdoors' thing in mind. Thanks so much!
Nakaia Aidan-Sun—You make me laugh. And that's a good thing.
Dreamer110—Loved the review! It made my story sound so…sophisticated!
Utopia Today—Wow. Everyone loved the Spot/Race convo! Awesome!