"Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I have nothing to say,
But fuck you..."
– Nautica
❀❀❀
~ D O R O T H Y ~
November 1997
Since the day mother brought me back to London, Reece Walker has been nothing but cruel towards me. He has degraded my very being in front of many people in the most disgusting way possible. He is a weed, an unwanted, troublesome weed that would never have caused problems in my life if it were removed in the first place.
So can somebody please tell me why I am currently sitting in Damien's car, as he drives the two of us to the hospital?
"Joanna is there," Damien says, drawing my attention. "She asked me to pick you up. She didn't want to leave Linda alone."
I nod my head, not surprised since she and Linda are quite close.
"What happened?" I ask, wary of his reaction as he is in a vulnerable state.
"Well," he begins, clearing his throat. "Linda called me. She sounded frantic, and it was sort of hard to keep up with her. Your mum took over and told me that Reece had b-burnt himself a-and now... he's in the burn centre."
He blinks, and a tear rolls down his cheeks. I don't think he realises it, so I lean towards him and wipe the shiny trail of wetness away with my left sleeve. He stills when I touch him, but then relaxes when he realises what I'm doing. I never knew that he cared about Reece a lot.
I cannot help but wonder why.
***
Damien strides into the hospital. I follow him through the maze-like corridor, trying to keep up with his pace. After asking the receptionist, Damien leads me down a narrow corridor to a door numbered 201. Just when he is about to touch the door handle, the door swings open to reveal mother and Linda. We step back, allowing them to enter the corridor. Mother glances at me before focusing her attention on Linda, who is covering her face with her hands. Mother escorts her distraught friend to a bench down the corridor, near the reception, and the two of them sit down. Damien and I follow them.
"He says it was an accident," mother says, rubbing Linda's arm in attempt to soothe her.
Mother is wearing her dark blue night dress, which reaches her knees and is rather revealing with its deep V-neckline and thin straps. Linda shakes her head.
"I won't risk it. He's going back to therapy, whether he likes it or not," she says, her voice hoarse.
"Linda, you need to be more understanding about what he wants–" Linda removes her hands from her face, narrowing her bloodshot eyes at her.
"He wants to die, Joanna."
What...?
Reece wants to... die?
"I can't let him die. Not on my watch. NOT ON MY WATCH!" she continues, shaking her head.
"Calm down, Linda. Please," mother whispers, wrapping her in her arms.
"Are you sure he did it on purpose?" Damien asks.
"He has been giving me hints for a while now," the distraught woman replies.
...She's right.
I remember what Reece did in his garden, drunk, and how Linda tried to calm him down. I didn't think he was serious at the time, however.
"Either way, he is going back. Better safe than sorry," Linda finalises.
"But Linda, you can't force him–" mother says.
"I won't change my mind," she says. "I'm going outside. I need to breathe."
She shoots up from the bench and walks away from us down the corridor. Damien looks at us, a glint of worry flashes in his eyes.
"I'll go after Linda and check on her," he informs us.
Mother nods. He sends us a feeble smile before he leaves us two alone. There is a pause of silence before mother clears her throat, smoothing over her dress to get rid of any wrinkles.
"I called," I say to her, breaking the silence.
She sighs, leaning back against the wall, slumped.
"I left my mobile at home. When Linda called... Everything was a blur. I forgot to keep it with me," she explains.
"And to change your clothes," I add, shaking out of my blazer.
With a frown, she looks down and gets startled, shooting her arms up over her cleavage.
"Oh my! Well, I guess this... modest appearance of mine is proof enough," she says dryly.
Grateful that she has dropped the silent treatment, I hand my blazer to her.
"It sure is," I say, giving her a small smile.
She accepts it and the right corner of her lips tugs upwards. I sit down next to her.
"Thank you," she says, before sadness washes over her features. "I'm sorry for how I reacted, Dorothy. I was... I should've been more patient with you."
"It's ok. I'm sorry for worrying you in the first place."
She then gives me a hug, pulling me closer to her. I return it.
"How are you feeling?" she asks, stroking my back with her fingertips. "I know how much you care about Reece."
"I–"
"Actually, it's fine. You don't have to talk about it. Just know that you are not alone; Reece is like my son. I feel for him too. We can change the topic to distract the both of us."
Is she really that oblivious???
"Reece and I are not friends," I tell her.
She nods her head.
"I know, my dear. I know he is more than that to you. Look, we don't have to talk about this if it makes you feel uncomfortable."
"No. You got it all wrong. He means nothing to me."
She lets go of me, and looks at me with confusion written all over her face.
"...What? But I thought he confessed–"
"He lied."
She widens her green eyes at me.
"He lied about his feelings for you?"
"Yes."
Before she can respond, Damien approaches us until he stands right in front of us.
"Linda wants to be left alone," he informs us before his eyes land on me. "We should probably go and see Reece."
"We?" I say.
"Yes. You and me."
"I think you should go in first. No offence, you look like a wreck," I say.
And also because I don't know how I should face him. I still don't understand why I even came here with Damien, why I didn't say no.
Is it heartless of me that I don't want to see him?
To check if he is alright?
"Alright," he says, before he turns around and walks into Room 201.
"You should see him," mother says after Damien is out of earshot, drawing my attention.
I face her, pursing my lips.
"I don't think I should..."
"You should go see him. I'm sure you misunderstood Reece-"
"But I-"
"No 'buts'. Reece needs all the support he can get right now. Linda isn't making it easy for him either. Now go see him while I will go get a drink. Do you need anything?"
"N-No, but I can't just go–"
"Go," she nudges, serious.
Annoyed, I sigh, standing up. She and I then part ways. I walk towards Room 201. The door is cracked open a bit. I place my hand against the door, ready to push it wide open. I am not ready to see him at all. What am I even going to say?
When I hear Damien's voice, my hand pauses.
"You really do look terrible," I hear.
"Thanks," Reece drawls, his voice hoarse.
"Why did you burn yourself?"
There is a pause of silence.
"Well?" Damien pushes.
"Preparing myself for hell."
I instantly freeze, my eyes widening.
Go die in a ditch or something and burn in Hell!!!
My harsh words scream in my head repeatedly.
Did he... Oh my gosh, did he actually burn himself because of what I had said to him?? I start to feel sick and dizzy as my blood turns icy cold.
"Don't mind him," I hear a feminine voice say inside. "He was asked the same question dozens of times. He's just a little annoyed."
"Wait, so he didn't burn himself on purpose?" Damien says.
"He claims he did not," the feminine voice replies.
And just like that, I finally learn how to breathe, but a part of me still feels... guilty of what I had said to him. I swear I did not really want him to suffer like that when I said those words.
"I knew it. I knew it!" Damien says. "How did you burn yourself?"
"Alcohol and a lighter. I was drunk and I wanted to smoke," Reece replies.
"Nurse, can you please elaborate?" Damien says.
I guess the feminine voice belongs to a nurse.
"Alcohol was spilled on his bedroom floor, and he accidentally dropped a lighter on it," she explains.
"Thank you."
"Alright Reece, your meds are here. They will make you sleepy, so rest well. I have to go now," the nurse informs.
I retract my hand from the door handle, and lean against the wall, next to the door. The nurse steps out, and moves down the corridor, opposite to me, oblivious to my presence.
"Are you in pain?" I hear Damien say.
"Nothing I'm not familiar with," Reece replies.
"Are you stupid? If Linda hadn't seen you in time, your whole house would've been on fire. You could have endangered, not only your own life, but also Linda's and the entire neighbourhood's."
"I'm horrible."
"And stupid."
"Just leave me alone."
"Hell man, I care about you. You're worrying me a lot lately."
"I never asked you to care about me."
Damien sighs deeply.
"What's happening to you, Reece? You started drinking again. You're moody. You stuck with Monica like a fucking leech and humiliated Dorothy, then you left Monica and I saw you crying over what you did to Dorothy, even though you intended to hurt her."
"...It's nothing."
"Reece, I was with you. Next to her locker."
Whose locker?
There is a pause of silence. The uncomfortable tension in that room is oozing out into the corridor.
"Forget about it," Reece says.
"You scared me."
"Damn it, I said to forget it!" he yells.
"You gotta talk to me, man. You know I'm here for you," Damien whispers.
"And what do I say? That I fucked up? That I ruined everything? My everything? I don't need to tell you anything. I already know what I did, how wrong I was to have done it. Telling you will make it feel more real–"
I get distracted when I see Nolan at the reception desk. When he spots me, he dashes towards me.
"Reece in there?" Nolan asks, pointing at the door and panting.
He looks worried too, with his blonde hair sticking out in random places and his cheeks drained of colour. I nod. He then throws the door open and rushes in, not bothering to shut the door.
"Reece, you fucking idiot! WHY DID YOU BURN YOURSELF?"
I hear a large groan.
"You can't die man. YOU HEAR ME? You have so much to live for. Think about all the vaginas that are yet to be explored by your dick."
And just like that, Nolan manages to make me scrunch my nose in utter disgust.
My poor, poor ears.
"There's more to life than just fucking," Damien says.
"We are men. We have needs!" is Nolan's enlightening reply.
"Excuse me," I hear someone say.
I turn my head to my left and see a male nurse standing behind a cart. I am blocking his way. I step aside.
"I'm sorry," I say.
He nods his head, smiling at me, before he walks past me.
"That voice," I hear Reece say.
I still.
"She's here?"
"Who?" Nolan asks.
"Yes, she is," Damien replies.
"How long has she been standing outside for, Damien?"
"I didn't know she was right outside."
"Oooooh. You're talking about Dorothy. Yea, she's been standing out there before I graced you with my fabulous presence," Nolan says.
"And why didn't you tell me in the first place, Nolan?" Reece asks.
"Didn't think I needed to."
"Damien?" Reece says.
"Understood."
Whack!
"OW!" Nolan whines. I walk away before I get dragged inside.
***
"Did you see him?" mother asks.
She and I are sitting in the cafeteria. She has a mug of latte in front of her. I have my arms crossed, resting them on the table.
"I heard him, if that counts," I reply.
"What? Were you eavesdropping?"
"I didn't mean to. I just couldn't bring myself to go in."
"Honey, whatever that is going on between you and Reece that is keeping you away from him, forget about it. Right now, Reece needs a lot of support."
I clench my hands, looking down at the table.
"Even if he hurt me?" I ask.
"...He hurt you? How?"
I can sense the worry in her tone.
"It doesn't matter."
"Of course it matters. Did Reece do something to you? Wait, is that the reason why you ran away to St. Anne's?"
I slowly nod my head.
"How?"
"It's complicated... I... Do I still have to see him?"
She has her lips in a tight line, pondering.
"Did he apologise?" she asks.
"He tried to."
"Does he regret it?"
"...I'm not sure."
"Do you think he will do it again?"
"I don't know..."
There is a pause of silence, before she sighs.
"For now, see him. When he gets better, you can then decide if you want to see him or not. He needs all the support he can get right now."
I groan, dropping my head onto my arms in defeat.
"Dorothy."
"Yes?" I mumble into my arms.
"He is a good boy with a bad luck. Remember that."
What she just said does not justify his actions at all. I was a good girl with a bad luck too, but you don't see me hurting anyone. You don't see me going completely berserk. Of course, mother doesn't know that, and hopefully she never will. But I am grateful that she hasn't pushed me for answers. I guess she really is trying to be patient with me.
***
I hear beautiful words of Nolan when I approach the door of Room 201.
"So your thighs are burned... What about your dick?" he says.
Another groan is emitted by Reece.
"What? That's burned too?"
"Damien," Reece says.
Whack!
"What the fuck, man!" Nolan whines again.
I push down the door handle and step inside. Silence fills the room as the three guys snap their heads to face me. I look at Reece, and my heart sinks a bit at the sight of him. He is lying down on the bed, wearing a plain hospital gown, his torso and legs covered in white bandages.
"Hey," I say.
His face appears paler than usual, and his eyes have bags underneath them.
"Guys, can you leave us?" Reece speaks, his eyes still lingering on me.
"Sure," Damien says, grabbing onto Nolan's arm and pulling him out of the room.
When the two leave, the door closes.
"You came," Reece says. "Why?"
I have been asking myself the same question. Why did I come here? Is seeing Damien's vulnerability the reason why I did not turn away and hopped into his car without a single thought? Or is it that really tiny humane part of me that wants to check if Reece is alright?
Reece is horrible but no one deserves to get hurt, right?
A pang of guilt shoots through me.
Great.
Just great.
I feel like a huge hypocrite since I had wished upon him the worst thing possible.
"I-I don't know," I say conclusively, fed up with my thoughts.
He then covers his face with his hands and hunches over. His dark, wavy hair cascades over his fingers.
"I'm sorry," he says, his breathing ragged. "I'm sorry for everything I've done, Dorothy."
A droplet slides down his left arm. And another. And another.
"I screwed everything up," he says.
I near him until I stand next to his bed.
"Hey, you have to focus on getting better-"
"There's no point. I'm a horrible person. I deserve to die," he heaves.
"No one deserves to die, including you."
Removing his hands from his face, he looks straight at me, his bloodshot eyes scanning my face.
"I... It hurts. It pains me so much."
"Oh, do you want me to call a nurse?" I offer, concerned for his wellbeing.
"It pains me when I see the bruises on your face."
I frown and then scoff when I realise what sort of pain he is referring to.
Well, whose fault is that, genius?
He cups my face with his trembling hands, startling me. Woah, what is he doing? He examines my face from left to right, top to bottom.
"I should have worshipped your face..." he whispers. "But instead, I allowed the hands of a wretched bitch to harm it."
In disbelief, I widen my eyes.
What on earth is he on about?
"I hurt you. I hurt you so fucking much," he says, his voice breaking.
He releases my face and covers his face again in shame.
"Yes, you did," I whisper.
"I am sorry. I am so, so sorry. I can't feel any more guilt for what I did to you. I despise myself. Of all the mistakes I've made in my life, this is the worst. I promised to protect you. Always."
"We were kids," I say.
He shakes his head.
"I meant it," he replies. "And I still mean it."
What do I say to that? No doubt, his apology sounds genuine. A part of me wants to console him, but a larger part is still adamant, unforgiving.
"Look, what's done is done. You apologised and you regret it, right?"
He lifts his head up to look at me.
"Then stay out of my way, and I promise I will stay out of yours. This is what you wanted, right? For me to leave you alone?"
"N-No!" he gasps, as if what I said was... horrifying?
I narrow my eyes at him.
"What do you mean no?"
"I don't want that."
"Well tough, I made my decision."
"I will not stay out of your way."
"What?"
"I will not let the person I care about slip out of my fingers again."
I scoff again.
"It amazes me how you lie so easily."
"I am not lying."
"Of course you are. You care? You care about me?"
"Yes."
"I cannot believe I listened to mother and came to see you. I'm leaving."
I turn around and make my way towards the door, away from Reece Walker.
"I loved you more than anything."
I freeze.
"When you left, a part of me left with you," he continues.
I slowly turn around and look at him.
"I always waited for you to come back, Dorothy. You were like..."
He pauses to think of what to say.
"Haven... Yes. That was what you were to me."
It feels as if he were saying the last part more to himself than to me.
"What do you mean?" I say, confused.
"When you left me, I stayed home most of the time because I had nowhere else to go. That man..."
"Your father?" I whisper, approaching him.
He slowly nods his head.
"He was an alcoholic, wasting himself away in random bars at night and crashing at our house during the day. He lost a lot of bets, adding more debts into the list. One night, he came home early. He lost a bet and he wanted to cool off, so he looked for mum in the house. But she wasn't home. I was in my room, sleeping. He stumbled into my room, saw me, woke me up and then..."
He then grips onto the bottom of his hospital gown. Slowly and hesitantly, he pulls it up to reveal his abdomen only. He points to the faint scars that are plastered across the lower side of his abdomen. My eyes focus on those scars. My heart sinks and I feel a lump in my throat.
"He left me there," he continues after a pause of silence. "Just watching me scream in pain. The pain was too much and I was somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness. I don't know how long he left me there for."
I gently place the tips of my fingers on his scars. It does not escape my notice that he shivers at my touch.
"Mum came home and she found me. My stillness made her think the worst. She and him fought, and he tried to... kill her."
"Reece, I didn't know..."
"You made me feel safe. I used to forget the bad things whenever I was with you. You made me happy. When you left, I got exposed to reality and I was forced to live through it."
I wasn't aware that I actually helped him when we were kids.
"Your stepdad would always tell me that you were happy at the boarding school, and that you didn't want to return. I didn't believe him. But when you told me you weren't happy to be back in London, I thought your stepdad was right all along. I thought that you forgot me and broke our promise and I got angry. Out of anger I just... I wanted you to go through the pain that I went through. I wanted to punish you for not treasuring our friendship as much as I did. That's why I did what I did to you. But after you showed me your scars... I... I was a fucking idiot! I should have listened to your side of the story first," he continues.
I sit down on the bed, next to him. Cupping his face, I wipe his tears away with my thumbs. He then leans down and rests his head on my left shoulder, and I allow him to.
"I missed you," he says.
Then, he wraps his arms around me. I feel his breath on my neck, his face burying into the crook of my neck. I can feel his tears making contact with my skin.
"I missed you so, so much," he mumbles.
My heart pounds against my chest and my tears threaten to spill.
For years I believed that it was only me who suffered and it was only me who cared about our friendship. But now I realise how wrong I was to believe that. He had suffered as much as I did, if not more. He cherished our friendship. He waited. He always waited for me to return. He wanted me to be with him just as much as I had wanted him to be with me.
I am so lost in my thoughts that I do not realise how long we stay in the same position. It is when I hear gentle snores that I am snapped back into reality.
Reece has fallen asleep in a sitting position, his arms still wrapped around me and his face still resting on my shoulder. He probably fell asleep like this because of his medicines. I gently push him back so that he lies down comfortably on the bed. I look at his sleeping face; his face is drained of any colour and tranquility.
I drape the blanket over him, careful not to abrogate his burnt areas. I stand up and look at his face one last time.
My eyes refuse to look away. My fingers itch to caress his face. My heart aches to be near him.
"I still can't forgive you, Reece," I whisper to him before I leave Room 201 with a growing lump in my throat.
*~*~*~*~*
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