MADMAN'S HAVEN

18

Christmas Eve, 1957

I stepped into the present world again as my brain forced its way out from the dismal memory of this exact day thirteen years ago.

It was the last Christmas we got to celebrate with our mother in life. If we only knew that back then...

My father and Walter sat on the other side of the table, peacefully eating from their plates filled with every sort of traditional delicacy.

I was fading into sobriety, the drugs were slowly leaving my body, it all was painful. My inside screamed for refill, but somehow it was not as bad as usual. My body was still satisfied from something a lot stronger than a drug rush.

I began to think about the situation earlier today, and remembered that I still carried Brandon with me. The pictures in my head were pleasing, and I was already longing to feel his touch again.

With Brandon in my nearness, I didn't need the medical substances as much. And that was a good thing.

I smiled for myself as I binged the food like a starving child. It was just another way of getting rid of the torturous detoxification.

"So Beverly, tell me about the institution of St: Nicolai. I presume you're still happy about your choice of profession?" My father's polite voice caught my attention, and I put a mask of falseness on.

"Indeed father, I love my job. Even if there are many sick and dangerous people around me every day, it pleases me to help them. There are so many who's in need of the help, and it's important that we keep the awareness about that," I responded, and realized that I hadn't really spoken to him more than a couple of times over the phone the past months.

My father raised his chin with pride.

"I am so proud of you my daughter. I believe from all evil comes goodness, and you're the goodness in all evil you've been through. I'm very happy for you, you've grown to become a mature, sensible woman,"

I was so glad by his encouraging words, but somehow I felt like I didn't deserve to hear them, since I was stuck inside the destruction of drug abuse and repeating of wrongful acts at the moment. But that was something he didn't know, and I was too afraid to tell him, even if I should.

"Thank you, Father," I said, and wished for an end of this conversation.

"Your mother would've been proud,"

My stomach turned.

Father was wearing a broad smile, but the air got a bit too silent between the three of us when the sentence left his mouth.

Walter's fork left a chinking sound as it hit the porcelain plate. He looked down at the table. Every time our mother was mentioned, it was hard for him to handle, and father was aware of that.

But no matter how hard it was for either of us, father refused to leave my mother's legacy in the darkness, and let it turn into something painful and repellent. He wanted us, and himself to remember her as the joyful and loving person that she truly was.

I cleared my throat.

"I hope she would," I said quietly and gently smiled as I tried to catch Walter's attention across the table. But before I managed to say anything, the awkward situation around the dining table was interrupted by a ringing sound coming from the hallway.

I got a bit relieved from the interruption.

I courteously excused myself, and left the table to answer the perfectly disturbing caller. I wondered who it could be. Calling me on Christmas Eve. I already spoke to Dolores right after I got home from work, and Vincent would never break his tradition of sending out beautiful Christmas cards with his warm wishes.

"Beverly Frazier,"

"Beverly, it's me,"

I immediately recognized the voice.

"I just wanted to say Merry Christmas, and tell you that... I miss you..."

My stomach knotted again. I didn't know if I wanted to throw up out of affection or out of annoyance.

I rolled my eyes and sighed quietly, I knew the person on the other line couldn't see my reaction anyway.

"Donald... What a surprise! Merry Christmas to you too," I tried to be polite, I really had no idea what to say, I was not prepared for this call.

"Thank you," Donald's voice was dark and filled with sadness, and the silence got awkward as he left me to continue the conversation he started by dialling my number.

Was I supposed to say that I missed him too? Even if I didn't?

It was common sense, but I already lost that awareness several months ago.

"Beverly, I was thinking. Would you let me take you out for dinner? I want to make it up to you, and I know it's your birthday soon,"

His victimized voice made me want to throw up, but my polite self and need of male attention didn't turn down his invitation.

"I'm actually hosting a party at my apartment on my birthday, you can come,"

I kept my words short as I only wanted this call to be over. Did he not realize I was busy on Christmas Eve?

"Sounds great. Thank you for inviting me! I'll be there,"

I rolled my eyes. He practically invited himself... I didn't believe Donald would be the type to attend a birthday party filled with younger drunk people, but apparently, I was wrong.

I had him so tightly wrapped around my finger, he would agree to anything just to be close to me again. And I enjoyed it.

Donald knew that I was not interested in a relationship, so he only had himself to blame for his heartache.

But what he didn't know was that my heart was aching for another. Someone on the other side. Someone for Donald to describe as an antagonist or even enemie.

But fortunately, he was unaware of that fact.