THE DEVIL'S AFFECTION

39. LACKLUSTRE

EVERY SO OFTEN, I get struck with these memories that I don't remember making. Places that I've been and things that I've experienced feel unfamiliar to me.

I don't really remember when I met Austin but I know it happened. All these men that I've encountered since then feel like fever dreams. Perhaps that's just my mind trying to make the trauma seem less real. It's my way of coping but it still feels so strange to me. It's as if half of my life never happened. The only parts of my life that feel real are the memories I have before my parents died.

Memories like the beach and long drives. Memories like the birthday that my father pressed my face into my cake and made me cry, only to start giggling after he pressed his face into the cake as well. Memories like the time my mother told my father that we were making cookies for my grandparents, only for us to eat the entire batch while watching TV an hour later. It's these small snippets of times that I remember so vividly.

I remember my mother's voice and my father's laugh. I remember that my father would get a crease in between his eyebrows when he frowned. I remember my mother's favourite pink slippers that used to squeak across the linoleum floors because of their rubber bottoms.

I remember all of these things. But half of my life still feels missing. I don't associate with the part of me who was an escort.

Maybe that's why my identity as Vivienne feels so different from Arabella. No one has called me Arabella since my father and no one knew my name was Ellie, Austin always gave me a new name with every new man. He said it would be better that way — safer. Although I don't think it that made much of a difference in the end. My experiences didn't change with a name. My scars are just as visible with the name Ellie as they are with the name Viv.

Regardless of my name, I can't tell who I'd rather be right now; Viv or Ellie.

I take my caution around the statue today, sometimes watching it closely to see if it moves. I know it was a dream but, fuck, it felt real. It's slightly terrifying to think about.

I think my fear surrounding the fact that I don't know who's coming after us is manifesting into the strangest things coming after me. The statue is in place of the enemies who I don't know.

Hanes is growing distant with each day that passes. He keeps to himself in the back room. Sitting in his chair, reading and sometimes just watching me or looking outside. He doesn't do anything with his time anymore. The man who used to always be doing something, now does nothing.

A bit of him died coming here — the only part that gave him any power. Now he's just a man, hiding in a house with a women he hired to stay with him. I'm no longer an employee. I'm more of a hostage for my own safety. Still, I wonder if a bit of this is karma for all of the bad things he's done. Now, all he has left to do is sit and think about what he's done. He just sits and worries about how all of this is going to end. It's a shame, but something we no longer can change.

"Hanes, would you like something for dinner?" I ask as I look over to him reading in his chair.

He doesn't look up from the book for more than a second to answer.

"Um, no, that's alright, dear. I'm fine for now."

I just want him to look up at me for more than a second. It's like he's afraid to even speak to me now. What's done is done. The least he could do is love me until the end; but I know that he doesn't and won't.

{ a few days later }

AFTER DINNER, when the sun has disappeared and the lights in the house are dim, we sit in silence. Hanes hasn't moved from his chair and I sit on the couch staring into the flames of the fire, wondering if I'll find something useful within them.

The weather outside has become colder and the plants are beginning to die and become dormant as the snow falls. Just as the sun has left, so has the charm of staying here. The days are starting to feel the same and fall together in one long chain. With no news about when this will end or if we will ever really be safe to leave, I can't see the light at the end.

I look over to Hanes again as he finishes the last page of his book and closes its back cover.

"How was it?" I ask.

He shrugs. "Alright."

I nod, unsure of how to keep the conversation going.

I'm so starved of attention, I'm beginning to wonder if I even exist anymore. This house feels so isolated from the rest of the world. I feel like I'm wasting away in this place.

He looks outside for a moment, that somber look back on his face. I miss the man I used to see.

He gets up and walks behind the couch, leaning down to kiss me on the cheek with a hand on my shoulder. He moves away and begins to walk off but I grab his hand to stop him.

"Please, don't leave me." I say quietly.

He stands still for a moment, my hand clasping his, begging for him to hold me back. I just want to feel him again. I want him to look at me as he did; to want me to want him.

He pulls his hand away and I close my eyes to bite the pain. I take a deep breath as I hear him continue walking.

I feel a tear fall from my wet eyes and slip down my cheek, only to be stopped by his lips against my cheek.

When I open my eyes, I see him kneeling in front of me; his eyes are glossy as they look into mine.

"You've become so cold." I whisper with a quiver to my lip. "Why don't you want me anymore?"

"Ellie, I'll always want you." He whispers back.

He tucks an arm under my knees, wrapping another around my back as he lifts me up off of the couch. I wrap my arms around his neck, tucking my head into his neck as he carries me upstairs.

I'm so lonely. So incredibly lonely.