DEAR YOU [Part 2]

Chapter 23

Coraline

“I just hope you know that I’m not gonna just let what you told me last weekend go away.” He said in a very serious tone.

“Mark you don’t need to.” I said turning to the other side on my bed.

“I don’t want to overstep but”

“go on”

“I think maybe you should tell someone about it? Cora, i saw you that day. The way you told me the incident, it's still deep in you and it's so dark, i know it hurts you and i hate that. Maybe you can, you know, talk to someone about it?”

“mark” i was interrupted.

“i know your mother didn't believe you but there are still people you can talk to, people you are comfortable sharing this with. Maybe a therapist?” 

The concern in his voice was almost too loud to miss. The way he cared, i was not used to it. You see, the day I told him the incident we were high. I had no control over what I said, i actually remember bits of it. It isn’t that i want to take anything back, it’s the fact that he remembers every bit of it despite being so catatonically high. It scared me how much he cared, was he even real?

“say something.” 

“mark, listen to me.” I calmly tried to explain the situation to him even though I knew how much he just wanted me to shut up and get some help. It was kind of him.

“I am not ready. I am not ready to be vulnerable enough to talk about this to anyone else.” I paused in order to create a blank space, giving him time to settle the thought in his mind.

“About my mother, i stopped caring about what she thought ages ago.”

Another pause. It’s amusing how silence which is nothing but a void of everything is sometimes so important. The fact that it speaks louder and clearer than words ever could.

“And i am talking to someone i feel comfortable around. Okay?” I said reassuring him. It feels nice to be this mature figure to someone, reassuring someone without being completely sure myself. 

“Okay.” We slowly fell into silence. But this silence wasn’t awkward like it was with other people. As i stated before, silence between us meant talking without words. He knew what i wanted and I, what he. 

“oh sorry Cora, I think Gwen's calling me. Later?”

“Later.” I heard loud beep as the call disconnected.

I slowly moved the phone away from my ear and onto the side table. You know how a side table tells a lot about people. It generally has all the things a person needs the most and the things you need are the things that define you.

Mine included my phone which is basically the lifeline of every teenager, my sketchbook and pencil and my earphones. With just these three things, i would happily shut myself from the whole word. I won’t need Instagram or Facebook, just my favourite playlist, my earphones and a Pinterest painting. Enough for me.

I was suddenly reminded of the letter i received earlier that day. The way Santa asked if Mark meant anything more? 

More. What does that mean? What was being asked of me so slyly? 

Ofcourse he means a lot to me, he’s just about the only real person in my life. I slowly turned to my other side now, but did he mean more? 

I never thought of that before. I like spending time with him and I love how safe he makes me feel, if that isn’t love then i don’t know what is. But that is different, I love to see him happy with Gwen and I in no way want to replace her. I don’t know how to define our relationship, we’renoy just friends and we’re definitely not dating. 

Maybe he is my escape.

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“When the fact that my dad had really died started to settle in, i broke down. I looked around and found the world I had so carefully built around me like a security blanket, being torn apart thread by thread. My body began to break down, it felt as if it couldn’t even hold up its own weight. The pain in me grew so much that it had no option but to fight it’s way out. That’s when it first began, the first time I picked up my pencil and drew.

I would hardly call it drawing. It was just dark pitch black pages at first. I would colour the entire page black and i would look down, that is how I felt. Pitch black. There are was no red,no blue, just black. As time went on, the page started to show a few patches of red and blue, sometimes yellow but after each incident with Dave, the page would turn black again.

Each time Dave struck, I had to start from the beginning again. 

Then came the final straw, the day I decided to end it all. Seconds before I had decided to go under, I had covered the entire textbook black but no amount of pages were enough to show all the darkness in me. 

The day when I met mark, he liked what i was drawing. He thought it looked pretty when it was nothing but a mix of colours, majority of which was black. Ever since then, it has been better. Somedays it’s more red but mostly black. 

Yesterday, for the first day in what feels like ages did i feel something different. I opened the page and coloured it full of all the colours, yes there was black in it but also pink and green and yellow. I think there is hope for me.

Today Mark asked me if i wanted to talk to someone about it but I said iwasntready. I am not truly but eventually, who knows?

Sour”

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