line shade
a person's face
in your haste
you forget
to pack away
you forget
why you left
C H A P T E R 2
I lay there that night, in that soft bed, with my bandaged hand curled up in a fist. I lay there and thought of my life, my future, my past. How was I ever going to get anywhere, do anything if I couldn't talk. I wanted to. So much. To speak to sing, to make a sound. But I just had this feeling in my stomach. He would punish me if I did.
Who would? I asked myself. Who would punish me? Why can't I remember? What have I done to deserve this? Yet no answer came, and as I lay there, I decided I would not ask again, try to unravel the tangled mess of thread that was my mind. I would remember in due time, or not at all, but I knew if I tried to get my memories back now, I would either lose them forever, or lose my mind- what had happened to me must have been bad, to cause my mind to create a shell around my memories, and I didn't think that I was ready, that I could bare it, because who was I kidding? I wasn't exactly the most mentally stable person in the world... And on that note I went to sleep.
I woke up the next morning to the sound of humming in the hall way. I recognized the voice immediately as Jesse's. He was a good singer, in a 'singing in the shower' sort of way. I looked at him as he stepped inside my room.
'I'm off to school now, I won't be back till four this afternoon, so I thought I'd say goodbye.'
I just looked at him, and he looked back fiddling with his back pack. I knew he wanted to say something else, ask me something, so I smirked and gestured with my hand for him to continue. He looked at me in surprise, not used to any response except staring emptily, or the occasional glare. I raised an eyebrow and mimicked his expression. He looked around sheepishly, and a little awkwardly.
'Sorry,' He said. 'I just... I mean I’m not used to you responding...' I waved him away. 'Anyways, well, I just want to say, that my mum and, I guess me, well, we care, a lot, about you. I know we've barley known you a week, but we really do want to help you. And I see now, that you can be happy as well, given due cause... I mean... Just think, if ever you need help, we are here, even if we don't quite understand what your upset about we can still comfort you, you know, you and mum could watch some soppy chick flick or something...' I slapped his arm playfully, and mock frowned. He grinned at me, and stood with a slight chuckle. I smiled a little too. He was about to give me a hug, I think, until he seemed to remember something, and saw my expression of shock and fear. I still wasn't over the touch thing yet. His face returned to its normal indifference and he walked out the room.
I looked around, confused but shrugged.
I got up a few hours later, for the first time in days, because I was amazingly bored and really wanted to turn on the TV, but Sarah was making breakfast and I couldn't call her in, well I could, they'd installed a baby monitor so I just had to tap twice to get her to come, but I knew she was doing breakfast and felt like such a child not doing it myself.
I drew back the covers and carefully, tentatively, put one foot on the ground testing my strength. I lent on the bed post as I swung the other one over the edge as well. I gathered all my strength and gently stood, still leaning on the bedpost. When I was finally standing I walked slowly over to the small TV in the corner. I switched it on, and then leant on the table it was sitting on catching my breath. I stumbled back to bed breathing hard, just as Sarah came in.
'I heard your breathing over the monitor... Everything okay?'
I nodded quickly, hoping she wouldn't notice that the TV was magically on. I'd been told 'bed rest' would 'do the best for me at this current stage'. Er... No.
'Was that TV on earlier?' she said looking at me confused.
Damn it.
I put on my most innocent smile and nodded my head enthusiastically, so much so that I ended almost looking like a hyperactive penguin.
She narrowed her eyes at me. 'Are you sure, young lady?'
I nodded harder.
'Okay...If you say so...' She said and walked out shaking her head.
I reached for the remote and smiled to myself as I switched channels.
The pad still sat there, next to me, and my gaze was drawn to it, but I knew I couldn't, I shouldn't touch it. I'd be punished. He would break my fingers like he did the last time.
Who? I asked myself. Who would punish me? Who broke my fingers? But as ever there was no reply and I reminded myself of the vow I had mad the previous night.
I shrugged and turned my gaze back to the TV trying hard to ignore it.
As promised, Jesse returned home at four, and talked with his mum for a long while before he came in to the room. He glanced at the pad, and his face looked a little disappointed to see it empty, but he soon covered it up.
'Hey...' he said.
I waved at him, and gave him a smile that said 'well this is awkward...'. He laughed and I shrugged.
'So how are you?' he asked.
I crossed my arms and looked him up and down. How does he think? I gestured to my bandaged hand and arm and the rest of my battered broken ugly body. Ugly. That’s what I was. I remember being called that so many times. By who? Ugh! I hate this! Why can't I remember? I thought to myself.
Jesse saw my face, and my frown and looked at me confused.
'Are you okay? Should I call Mum?'
I shook my head quickly, not wanting Sarah to come in and fuss over me again. I was fine, and she had better things to be doing than coming in here every five seconds...
He smiled at me. 'Too fussy?'
I nodded, smiling slightly.
'Don't worry. She's like that with me when I'm ill.' I nodded again, this time in understanding and amusement. His eyes twinkled before his face hardened again. He shook his head slightly.
'I've got to go. See you...'
I looked at him confused. Bi-polar much? Then I shrugged, and he left. Really? What's with the mood swings.
As the days went by I started to walk more, when Sarah wasn't there of course, when I was completely alone. I just smiled when ever she came in to check on me, saying she thought I was having another panic attack, but I always just shook my head at her and I think gradually she was beginning to feel better about it, although I could see she thought she was going a little mad what with all the times she had 'imagined' hearing heavy breathing through the baby monitor. Gradually, I learned to control my breathing, until I didn't need to concentrate at all. I could walk completely normally with out difficulty. But still I didn't tell her, Doctor Feilds, or Jesse, because I was still officially ordered bed rest, so I knew Sarah would get all fussy and worried, and Jesse would have some other serious conversation with me, and go all bipolar on me again, while Doctor Feilds would just look at me over the tops of his glasses and take notes.
Jesse had distanced himself from me considerably since our little 'heart to heart' -please note the sarcasm- the other day. His face and eyes were hard when he looked at me, and I couldn't understand why. But every now and then I would catch him smirking at my antics and facial expressions, though as soon as he saw me look his face would turn back to normal.
The pad stayed in exactly the same place. It seemed to beckon me to it. I didn't want to write exactly- or I did but not about what had happened to me or my name and age, because I didn't remember and even if I did, I didn't want to get punished, or hurt again like before, so I wouldn't have any way. But the reason I wanted it so much... It was hard to describe. It was like there was some invisible force, pulling me towards it, asking me to draw, to sketch, to shade, to make life but on paper. But I knew I couldn't, that I shouldn't, that I wouldn't because it would hurt too much if he ever found out. It would hurt just like the last time.
Last time? What last time? What happened last time? I thought to myself. I don't know, I don't remember, but I think, at least I'm almost certain, it hurt like hell...
I put my finger to my temple. I was getting a headache, and it was hurting pretty bad, like an elastic band tightening around my forehead till I thought it was going to blow up. I rubbed trying to ease the pain but it just got worse, and soon I was breathing hard and the black dots were dancing to the sides of my vision. I put my head in my hands and felt my eyes tearing up. I rocked forward and backward trying to get the pain to stop but it continued throbbing and I felt myself getting faint. I closed my eyes and was soon enveloped in the dark oblivion of unconsciousness and lost memories.
I woke again a few minutes later, but I didn't open my eyes. I couldn't. They seemed stuck together all most. Or maybe I just didn't have the strength, I didn't know .I heard someone moving about beside me and tried to open my mouth and ask them for help, but I couldn't open my mouth either. In fact, it seemed that I couldn't move at all.
I felt someone kneel beside my bed.
'Why won't you talk?' he asked. It was Jesse. And in that moment he sounded so sad, so deserted and I wanted so badly to look up into his deep grey eyes, and see the curve of his lips. I wanted to reach out a hand and touch his cheek. But I couldn't. I couldn't move. And even if I could, I knew I would never be brave enough. 'Why won't you tell us anything?' I tried to move my hand but nothing was working. 'Why won't you wake up? You've been out for hours...' Hours? Minutes surely... 'And we still don’t know why you collapsed in the first place... Though I would guess another panic attack...' Yup, he got that one right. Panic was all I did.
I tried to move my hand again but this time it didn't feel like it was taped to the bed and I managed to twitch a finger. I felt him move on the bed and then the mattress stopped sloping down because of his weight, and I knew that he was standing.
'Mum,' he called. 'She just moved!'
'Coming, love, coming...' And then I opened my eyes and Sarah was standing over me.
'At last: you're awake. I was beginning to worry...'
I smiled at her in what I thought was a reassuring way and then shrugged.
'I just called Doctor Feilds. He'll be here in a minute...' She said and smiled.
The rest of the day went by as normal, other than Doctor Feild's visit. I caught Sarah sneaking gooey eyes at him at least twice and I was pretty sure she liked him - I mean I know she was fifty and stuff but seriously? She could still have crushes couldn't she? Any ways, Jesse went completely back to his normal indifference and I wondered what was with the mood swings. Not that I cared. I mean, I barely knew him. At least, that’s what I told myself.
The pad lay there still on the bedside table under the lamp and I wanted more and more to touch it. At one point I nearly did, but I felt this feeling deep inside telling me not to.
The next day though, I did. I was tired and bored and there was nothing good on TV, but I didn't want to sleep. I'd been doing too much of that recently. And so when I saw it I knew. I knew I had to touch it, to make line shade and shadow, to tone and draw light, to make life on paper. I had felt the need since the day it had first laid there but had denied it. And now I felt a need so strong I wanted to cry. I needed to touch it, to feel the pencil in my hand, hear the scratch it made as I left a mark. I lifted my hand and reached out to take the pencil ignoring the feeling of nausea and wrongness. I closed my eyes, scrunched up my forehead.
And then I had it, the pencil in my hand and all pain was gone, I didn't care that he'd punish me, I knew, that right then, I needed to draw like I never had before, and that I needed to write, more words than there ever were. Words seemed to spill from my hand, the pencil, and my mind. I gripped the pad and sat back in the pillows.
And then slowly, very slowly, I drew. A pair of eyes, a face, Jesse, and then some lips and rosy cheeks, crazy hair that framed her face, Sarah. Doctor Feilds came next, and I drew him looking at Sarah in admiration, sharp nose and almond shaped eyes drawn to her face. I shaded where needed, drew lines of hair framing their faces and left bits of white, that looked like light, until finally I was left with three smiling people standing in different positions, Jesse looking right at me, his mother at the sky, and the Doctor at her. I smiled at the end product. I didn't understand why I hadn't done it before. It felt so right, so perfect. And then above their heads I left a trail of words...
Reach for the stars,
You say,
But how can I?
The stars are too far away,
And my arms will never stretch so high
Or so far...
I went over to the window then, taking the pad and pencil with me. I looked outside. Jesse is outside on the front step with another boy. He had brown hair and green eyes like a snakes. I stood there watching them talk. Jesse laughed and then the boy gave him a half hug, and left. Jesse stood there a moment before knocking, and I scrambled back into bed before Sarah could see. I shoved the pad under my pillow and closed my eyes as if I was asleep. I heard the door close and two pairs of footsteps go upstairs. And I lay there a while, my eyes open, hands behind my head. How long had it been since I got out side? Since I had laughed? Since I had had a name? How long since I had had a life, a love, anything of my own? I closed my eyes slowly, sighed and sat up, making sure the door was closed, then I got up, with the pad and pencil in hand, and leant back on my pillows, starting to sketch again.
And then I heard shuffling and a muffled gasp. My head snapped around and I saw Jesse and Sarah in the doorway, looking shocked. How hadn't I heard them? Damn it! I was too absorbed in my drawing to notice.
I looked at them, not sure what to do.
'Well, I think we know the answer to your question now, Mum. She most defiantly can write.' He said softly. I glared at him and was about to roll over or go back to my new found joy, but he snatched away the pad. I felt my eyes widen, and I reached out for it as he and his mother looked at it. No, no, no! This couldn't happen. They couldn't see that stuff. It was private. I'd drawn only four things, but they were mine, they couldn't see it. I reached further but stopped as I saw Jesse's eyes widen.
'You're good...' he said, then looked at me. 'Really good. Why didn't you do this earlier?'
I shrugged and looked at him warily, then made one last attempt at getting the pad back, and this time I didn't have to try, he let me have it. I curled up, and went back to drawing, and he and his mother left the room.
Days passed, and I continued to draw and write, about everything, my new life, the weird feelings of dread I got at the pit of my stomach, and about Jesse and Sarah. Soon the pad was filled up, with pages and pages of sketches and writing. And Sarah got me a new one, with special drawing paper and some pencils. I smiled at her as she gave them to me and she started to play music down stairs as I started to work on my next sketch. It was going to be of Jesse and the boy on the door step. I drew the boy first, with his snake like eyes and spikey hair, then Jesse, eyes twinkling and he seemed caught in mid laugh. I filled in shadows beneath them and the wrote :
What is the point in teacups, when in my book, they are always half empty, or upside down...