Leaving Elliot's was hard. Hardest thing I've done for a while. Because I knew that as soon as I left there was a possibility that I wasn't coming back, I knew it, they knew it, we all knew that this could be the last time.
It took me a while to pluck up the courage to say goodbye to them. I walked up to Elliot first and smiled. I didn't like goodbyes, I was never really that good at them "See you around then, I guess."
He smiled and scratched his head, but his eyes flashed with emotion – sadness. "Shit Myra." He mumbled "This is harder than I thought."
I snorted, my smile wavering "No one said it would easy."
He rolled his eyes "Don't get all philosophical on me."
My smile returned "I never change."
He threw his arms around me pulling me close to him "We wouldn't have it any other way, Myra."
After Elliot it was Dylan, I tuned to him with a straight face, not knowing what to say to one of the boy I have kissed multiple times this week.
For someone who has emotional issues so strong I sure have kissed a lot this week...
"Dyl, I..." Trailing off I looked down. I didn't know what to say to him.
"Come here." He said and pulled me close to him. I smiled giving him a hard squeeze "This isn't goodbye Red."
"Maybe not." I said allowed, but inwardly added: But maybe this is it...
After Dylan there was only one. Not any one, but the one. Who else but Blake? I came back to this town avoiding him, too scared to face up to what I had did two years ago. Heck, I still haven't told him the truth about why I did what I did but maybe I didn't have too.
He had forgiven me without knowing. Selflessly he came back.
I looked up to Blake and I saw everything that I wasn't, everything that I aspired to be. He's been a good friend when I needed it, he been a sparring partner when I needed to fight and he supported me even when I pushed him away.
He's stood by me even when I asked him not to and maybe that's why we're still here. Because Blake never lost faith in me, in us. He always knew that we was something great.
If there was any reason to stay at all it would be him.
It would be him and it would be Elliot and Dyl and Marcus, and even Amy. It would be everyone who I've passed on the street and every person in my dance class.
Because there isn't just one reason to keep going, to keep living, to keep breathing.
Sure, two years ago, my life was a living hell, but even then there were reason to carry on I just refused to see them. The reason stayed with me through therapy and they have only increased by coming back, seeing them all over again.
But I never needed to see them. I knew the reasons to carry on every day through therapy. Maybe that's why I was okay with Doctor Logan all those years ago, because he didn't see a lost cause he saw the possibility for me to continue where others didn't.
Those reasons lived with me through every session, every breakthrough and every step back. Every pill that I took for the sake of improving. Every lecture I suffered. Every nurse I rejected for treating me like a worthless, brainless zombie trying to find the next hit that would eventually end my suffering.
I carried the weight of what I had been through for too long to understand how to share it. Too stuck in my ways until Doctor Logan threw me overboard and I was forced to swim back in deep waters.
But now, looking back, I'm grateful he did.
"Everything's going to be okay." Blake said snapping me out of my thoughts "you're coming back."
"I don't know..." I whispered honestly "I guess we'll find out."
"No." Blake eyes narrowed slightly and I felt the challenge they always gave me "you're going to come back."
One look in Blake's eyes and I knew he needed this just as much as I had. He needed me to come back, to stay.
I swallowed hard "I'll call you before tomorrow." I told him "If I don't then you'll know what's happened." I told him, not promising anything because I knew I could break it.
It felt odd saying goodbye properly. Last time I had screamed at him to leave me alone, to let me go, to forget me, and this time I was practically begging for him to stay. I don't think I could live with myself if I didn't have Blake in my life anymore.
He was just as important as the blood in my veins.
He was what's keeping me together, what's helping me see straight.
He pulled me close against his chest, his chin resting on top of my head "I love you Myra..." He mumbled "And even if you do go back I'll never stop loving you. I'll visit you every time I can until they let you out again."
I squeezed my eyes shut, not trusting my mouth to form words.
Resultantly I pulled away and faced the door. Without looking back I left.
I had to blink back tears, I didn't want that to be the last time I saw Blake.
It couldn't be.
It won't be.
Leaving Blake behind again will be the hardest thing I will ever face in my life, and I knew I wouldn't be able to go through it alone this time. I wouldn't make it. This week has made me weak, but it's also made me realised how strong I am, how strong I've been all my life – I couldn't let that steak end now.
I was stronger than them.
I was stronger than him.
Because he was the reason for it. Him and his friend. They were both locked up now, thankfully, for the rest of their lives. And that's what mattered. They got what they deserved and now it's my turn to get what I deserve, and I deserve my life back.
And if I have to fight to get that then so be it.
As I walked to my house, slower than the pace I normally walk at, I couldn't help but glance at my hands. Rough and scarred from the years of fighting my hands had seen better days. Much better days. Nails too short from biting them down to the skin, and my knuckles were littered with raised white lines. My hands went to my lower back and rubbed the skin there, I could feel the raised scaring through my shirt and I shivered from the memories it brought.
I can remember when I was standing in Blake's bathroom when the skin was still raw and the cuts were still bleeding. I remember his anger, how worried he was when he realised that I was getting beaten. That the man, who was supposed to be my father, was abusing me.
Abuse...
I had never really thought of it that was back then. Not until now really. It had always been, "He's beating me" never the word "Abuse" and I don't know how to feel about that. How I never really saw it as abuse until now.
Perhaps I did but I refused to admit it to myself.
Now though, there was no other way to see it.
Me, Myra Clay, was abused by her own father and his best friend for years. Beaten, raped and almost murdered.
But not anymore.
Now, I was recovering.
I stopped in front of my house and glanced at the car that had brought me here no more than seven days prior. Seven days, is that all it's been? Hell it feels like longer.
I was tempted to run again. Déjà vu washed over me at that thought, I had run when I came back, I had feared seeing my brother for the first time in years, and now, standing in the same spot next to the same car, I feared that I would be seeing him for the last.
My feet steered me past my house further down the street but I forced them to stop, glancing back at the stupid house. I turned back to it cocking my head to the side, glancing it over and then over to his car.
Hesitantly I started walking to his car and sat against the hood and closed my eyes.
Why was I so scared to enter my own god dam house? I knew that it wasn't scary, the house can't hurt a person. I knew that now. But I guess it wasn't the house that I found to nerve-racking this time. It wasn't who was inside the house either, I wasn't afraid of anything so physical this time.
No it wasn't any of that that was making my heart race.
It was the outcome.
My heart was hammering my chest making me heave for breath. Panic rose and I jumped off the car starting to walk back to Elliot's.
I got two steps before I growled out in annoyance, my hand slamming against Doctor Logan's car. There was a small dent under my fist but I couldn't bring myself to walk away.
I wasn't weak anymore. I had to fight it.
I rest both hands on the car and leant on it, as if it was the only thing in the world anchoring me to this spot. As if without it I would float away into the sky and explode, pop in a million pieces like a balloon too full of air that it was stretching the rubber too much and it couldn't hold it together anymore.
I was a red balloon threatening to fly. I was a bird stuck in a cage. I was a fighter who was now too scared to fight.
I needed to calm my heart down, it was beating to fast that I was panting, struggling to find my breath.
Deep breath in, deep breath out.
Deep breath in, deep breath out.
Deep breath in, deep breath out.
Slowly but surely my heart slowed, still fast, but manageable as I slowly straightened, my head falling back to look at the sky.
God let this not be my last day here.
Finally I turned towards the house, my eyes staring at the wooden door, but my eyes slid over to the window seeing Doctor staring at me with a mug of tea in his hands sipping on it slowly.
Had he been watching me this entire time? Has he been watching my reaction? Judging me?
Of course he was judging me that was his job.
I stared at him and he stared at me.
I cocked my head at him and blinked but he didn't move an inch, just stared at me, waiting my decision.
I could feel his mocking gaze on me as I turned my head to the direction of Elliot's place. I could feel his silent question: Myra, what are you going to choose? He would ask. Are you going to run? Well if you're going to run you better hurry up and do it.
I looked back at him but he only sipped at his tea.
I cannot tell you what to do, Myra. I can only put you in a situation and see how you'll react.
Blinking hard I shook the haze from my head, looking back at the door. My fingers pressed against the vein in my neck, checking my own pulse for a moment before I took a step forwards. And then another. And another. And another until I had my hand over the door knob and I started turning it.
Half way through I stopped.
I remember the words that started this week off. I remember it clear as day, so much has happened since then. His words, heavy and clear rang through my head, ears ringing from the words. Hearing the truth that I refused to hear until now.
"I'm sorry Myra, but there's literally nothing left I can do for you. You're stable now."
They were Doctor Logan's words eight days ago. Eight days since I have even allowed myself to think of it.
"Stable..." I mumbled to myself, uncaring if they heard my inside the house "I'm stable now."
In a swift movement I turned the door handle and pushed it open, stepping inside before I changed my mind.
I stepped inside possibly for the last time.
I stepped inside with the hope of being free.
I stepped inside telling myself that I had reason to carry on. But one reason stood out more than any.
Not just any reason but the reason. One reason. A reason.
(AN) Sorry for how long you've had to wait for this chapter. It was so dam hard to write i was nearly in tears myself! Dam. but not many more left!!
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