AN: I feel when I'm writing Aaron's story my writing changes with her mood and thoughts. It's like when she feels any sort of happiness or just enjoyment my writing is lighter and more casual but when she's in that despair and cynical its darker and more complex.
I just wanted to say this because I felt like my writing was just falling off from where it was in the beginning as it went on. I was kinda beating myself up for it but it actually didn't. Like the same theme is there it just changes as Aaron does. So I guess I'm just trying to say the fluctuations are just my method in this story.
This chapter is longer than usual because I kind of just wanted to end this little trilogy already.
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- C.
If Derrick had thought he wasn't going lose his mind over a runaway foster kid he had been wrong. He was every bit about to rip his hair out from the roots and then burn the streets to flush her out. He was losing it. Actually, he had lost it already. Four days. Almost a whole work week had Aaron been gone god knows where and all he knows is that she's suicidal.
When Kelly called him in the middle of night frantically speaking fast he was immediately put on high alert. She relayed their conversation and he all but felt his stomach drop right from his body. He was fearful that she might take her life if she hadn't already and that made his stomach tie in knots. The last thing he wanted to do was to have to identify her rotting corpse.
Aaron was depressed. Severely. He wasn't surprised about that fact all. He would have been more shocked if she wasn't after the horrors she had been put through at such a young age. Not many people, let alone a child can lose both their parents months after each other and then go through years of sexual assault and physical abuse and come out unscathed.
Most kids ended up being terribly violent. They acted out. But, Aaron, she was just...quiet. She let herself suffer in silence because after years of being told no one cared and being shown over and over again that it was true it was better for her to just keep it all in. Derrick noticed that about her. Even when she woke up screaming in the middle of the night with sweat covering her body she'd shrug it off and say she was fine.
She'd shower. Change her sheets. Then go back to bed. All in silence. She never talked much about her nightmares. She would only say they were just flashbacks. It had been happening for a while and that she was used to it. That's what Derrick hated. She was so used to living the way she was she would never speak out.
Because no one cared.
That's what she said to Kelly on the phone. Kelly said her voice was hardly their when she spoke the words and she truly hadn't ever heard a sound so broken. So sure of itself. That's what people just don't understand. Depression isn't always this illness that's crying and self harm. It's silence. It's suffering with the ongoing thought that the person is absolutely nothing in this world.
It's not this tragically beautiful thing that can be fixed, it's something that should be healed. It's like an open wound, you have you want it to be healed. You have to go the doctor, let them treat it, and then do the rest on your own or with the help of others. It can heal. It does. And then you're left with a scar for a while and sometimes they fade over time other times they don't and you still have minor pain. But it's a reminder. It reminds you that you're alright. That it happened but now you aren't in that place anymore.
He wanted that for Aaron. He wanted her to be healed. He wished for all the kids that had come through his home to have that and some did but some let the wounds reopen. He couldn't stop that but he helped others. Aaron deserved that much, she was in the process. She went to the doctor. She got the treatment, she had his support and the support of his boys but she let the wounds reopen. They had split and the blood of her hardships were soaking her mind to it's core with everything that was wrong.
That was the tragic thing.
To see someone who was trying. Who was making process just fall back down the hole they had fought to climb out of. Aaron was far off from the top but she was getting there then she slipped. And back down the rabbit hole she went but unlike other times Derrick was going to fall down with her.
•••
Sleep deprivation was a strange thing. It made you angry, sad, slightly delirious but overall you stayed tired. I was tired. So fucking tired. The most sleep I had gotten was maybe a few hours in a shelter the other night before I had to leave. I haven't showered. The most I had eaten were some cold beans that were too salty and I don't think I could count it as eating since I puked it back up.
It had gotten too used to gluten free fresh foods. The expensive and actually good tasting shit Derrick had in the house. It was spoiled. It was probably dying being that I hadn't eaten in two days since then. I was okay with that. Maybe this was somehow more humane, at least it wouldn't be pulled out of me while it was somewhat alive.
This wasn't my first time being homeless, no, this was maybe the fifth or sixth time I've had to wander the streets for days at a time so I didn't get picked up by cops and sent to a home.
But during those times I wasn't pregnant. I wasn't so fearful of going back to group homes or being placed somewhere else. This time I was both those things. Scared out of my mind actually. That was the worst case scenario right now. So I just walked. I rested for a while in parks and when it came time to sleep ally's had to suffice. Wedged between a dumpster and the wall sitting on piece of cardboard.
Pathetic is what it was. I had let myself get too comfortable. I lavished in such stability. Soaked myself in their kindness. It's funny how reality hits you at full force with one rinse. It didn't take much for me to see what I had been blinding myself from. I was still nothing. I was still no one. I was still poor little Aaron Hendrix with the dead parents and no other family who gave a shit about my wellbeing.
No one ever actually would. I was charity. That girl who clears the conscience of the wealthy and just getting by after they take her in. I make people feel like they've done something good. Like, years of their fuck ups somehow have all washed away. They feel like saints. Like, they have done me a service. I should be thankful. Blessed. I should be kissing the ground these people walk for even giving me a bed to sleep in.
To me, I am nothing. No one.
But to them, god, I'm so much more.
I'm charity, I'm a check, I'm a humble brag, I'm a thief, I'm a whore, I'm a good for nothing bitch, I'm a punching bag, I'm a prostitute, I'm a sex doll, I'm an adult, I'm a child, I'm a lost cause, I'm just another statistic, I'm the aggressor, I'm the perpetrator, I'm the victim, I was just destined to have same fate as my mother at the end of the day.
I was nothing good in this world. Nothing good had ever come from me being here. I was just existing because it felt like the right thing to do. I was here for other people never myself. But, now I had no one. I officially had not a damn thing to be here for and still I couldn't do it. Nights in the ally's with shards of glass around me and I couldn't do it. Walking the streets it could be so easy. Traffic is always bad, accidents happen all the time.
How easy could it have been for me to just open my wrist and let the veins empty, how easy could it have been for me to just wander into traffic and have a car do it for me, how easy would it have been for me, a non swimmer to just jump from the bridge into water possibly littered with jagged rocks, So many bars passed by filled by men with such fragile masculinity, just the small slip of the tongue could set them off.
So many possibilities. They would all be so quick. So easy. Some virtually painless. Such long suffering could be ended with the movement's of my own body.
But I couldn't do it.
Maybe I liked it. The pain. The relentlessness of my own mind. It was the only thing that reminded me I was here. If not for that, I truly was dead already. Just skin with a pulse. Nothing inside. Like a piñata without all the good stuff, decorated with skin, clothes, a fake smile, fake emotions, false content. Inside I was hollow. Just air.
I was just...here. Hanging around for the fulfilment of others.
That cracks me. It burns away all of my resolve and I find myself just screaming. In the middle of the night walking through the park, I was just screeching. Then I'm laughing because god, how good did it feel to just admit for once. I had said it before but I didn't really let myself believe it. Saying and believing are two different things and the feeling of the latter was freeing.
And maybe thats why I was going back.
If I was going to suffer through all this bullshit at least I should be able to do it comfortably. I should be able to do it without worry. Derrick wasn't greatest but he was decent. I needed decency. I deserved it. For once in my forsaken life I should be able to spend whatever time I have in comfort. I had cracked, not shattered and at least before I completely hit the end of my nerves I should be able to do it in peace and stability.
Not having to look over my shoulder was a luxury. One I couldn't and wouldn't let my disdain with life ruin for me. If Derrick was going to use me to fill whatever void he was trying cover then I could use him and his resources to keep me together. I deserved that. And I didn't deserve a lot of things but that's one thing I did. It was the one thing I would allow myself.
Because gone was the foolishness of pretending to be alright. I wasn't. I wouldn't ever be. No more fake smiles. No more strained laughs. I was going to be me. Aaron Hendrix. The girl with nothing. Nothing to give. Nothing to get. Nothing inside. Nothing outside. Slowly I was going to suffocate.
But I was okay with that.
Because Derrick, well, he was a liar and a damn good one at that. He was the kind of person that could make you buy into any few words he said. That false sense of security, that false care, the way he looks at me like I am something. It was fake. but it was comforting. I needed comfort, for once in my life even if it was just for five minutes I needed someone to to just hold me and tell me everything was going to be okay even though I knew it wouldn't.
So I go back. That same elevator made my stomach nauseas. The ding makes me jump because even still I wasn't used to how fast it would arrive. I assumed everyone would be sleep but of course I was wrong. Derrick was sitting on the couch and twists around when he hears the sound and all but sprints to where I'm standing by the kitchen. My bag on the floor. My pride along with it.
If I had any.
"Aaron, Jesus fucking Christ," Derrick grabs my face turning it from side to side. Inspecting. His hands slide to my shoulders and he steps back almost like he's trying to see if I was hurt. I wonder how many times he had done this. It was probably routine.
"Are you okay? Do you have any idea how worried I've been? How worried we've all been–and not to mention Kelly, god she's been losing her mind. Stressing herself out," he wasn't shouting but I can hear his frustration. But his eyes show relief. It almost looks like he'd cry.
"I'm sorry," It was only partially a lie.
"You can't just leave this house whenever you get angry or frustrated. Do you understand that? We can talk. If you feel like something is wrong or you aren't being treated fairly please, just talk it out with me–us–and we can just fix it."
I swallow. The tiredness shows on his face. It looks like hadn't slept. I wonder if Kelly had slept. Poor Kelly who is nothing but nice to me. Kelly who's only ever been kind. Kelly who pleaded with me to just talk with her. Pregnant Kelly. I wondered if she was alright. If her baby was okay.
Then I wonder about the fetus growing inside of me.
My hands involuntary go to my stomach but I mask it as me trying to dig through my pockets.
"And I apologize, Aaron. I shouldn't have said what I did or suggested those things about you. It was wrong of me," Derrick looks at me with a sad stretch of his lips. I can't speak. When had someone ever apologized to me. It makes me uncomfortable and I look at the floor.
"Its–Its okay."
"You should head to bed. I'm sure the boys will be happy to wake up and see that you're back."
"Is Riley–has he been alright?" I bite the inside of my cheek but Derrick smiles. A real one. It's not laced with underlying sadness. Or regret.
"He'll be better now that you're back," I nod and real smile blooms on my face before I can stop it. I didn't realize I had even missed him until I was only a few feet from our shared room. I shower before I go to bed and when I see Riley laying in the bottom bunk suddenly everything feels like it can be okay again.
But I know that I'm wrong because nothing had ever been okay from the start.
•••
So, uh....I guess I kinda sorta lied when I said I was gonna at least have something up by like last month. Sorry about that. In addition to my OWN problems our WiFi was out for a while.
But, here is a chapter! I'm not gonna lie I was having serious writers block like, I just couldn't find it in me to write anything but I think spell is broken.
Again, sorry for taking SO long.
Stream Idol and Love Yourself: Answer by BTS!!!!
- C.