"All day and all night, I think of you."
– Nautica
❀❀❀
~ D O R O T H Y ~
November 1997
Hushed music is being played while I watch aimlessly at the passing view. Different sources of light flash by me as mother drives us back home. Mother tries to initiate small talk but, sensing my gloominess, she chooses to remain silent. I do not realise when we reach home until she places her hand on my right shoulder, causing me to jump a bit.
"Dorothy," she whispers.
I turn to face her and I can tell she is contemplating whether she should say what she actually wants to say.
"Let's go in."
I guess she decided to play safe. I nod my head, unbuckling my seatbelt.
We enter the house and part ways; I trudge to my bedroom while she goes to the kitchen. Once I close my door, I walk towards the windowsill and sit down on it with my knees up, staring at the view ahead of me in a daze. My mind is blank but my heart seems to grasp what's going on as I feel the heaviness in my chest. It feels heavier and heavier with each passing second. I don't know how much time passes, but eventually, I snap.
With a loud wail, I drop my head onto my knees. Years of hopelessness and anger. All for what? I used to believe that my reason for hating mother and Reece was justified. I believed that they did not care about me and that they abandoned me.
But I was wrong all this time.
Mother had always wanted me back home and Reece had loved me.
I hate to admit it, but I wish that they had actually neglected me on purpose because hating them feels so much easier than changing my mind about them and accepting them into my life. Just think about it; if you have hated someone for years because you believe that they wronged you, would it be easy for you to accept them back into your life once you realise that they never meant to wrong you? It would be bloody confusing!
Hot tears spill down my cheeks. I then cover my face with my hands, sobbing into them. My bedroom door swings open without warning, receiving no reaction from me.
"Dorothy!" mother says, concern thick in her voice.
In an instant, her arms wrap around me and her hands rub my back in an attempt to soothe me.
"What happened?"
I shake my head, choking on air. God, it's so difficult to breathe.
"Dorothy, you can talk to me. You know you can talk to me."
"He l-loved me," I burst.
Her hands freeze before they continue to rub my back. Now that I said it out loud, it feels even more real.
Oh god.
"Reece?" mother asks. I nod, sniffing.
I wish to believe that he lied to me back at the hospital, but the way he said everything, the way he looked at me while saying it, it's like I saw a glimpse of little Reece. The tough facade he usually had on just melted away, exposing a very vulnerable, true and remorseful Reece.
"He said he had loved me m-more than a-anything. I wish he h-hadn't. I wish he was the b-bad guy."
He even said that I was like his haven.
Haven.
I did not know that I actually meant a lot to him when we were younger. I did not know that he, like me, went through trauma.
But Reece is still at fault for torturing me at Hampton, although Richard had lied to him that I was having 'fun' at the boarding school and 'refused' to come back. Richard better be burning in hell right now. He ruined my life. He absolutely ruined everything.
"What do you mean, Dorothy?" mother asks.
I finally lift my head and rest my head back, against the wall, looking at a pair of watery emerald eyes that mirror my own. I try to breathe in and out, calming myself down. Patient, mother sits down on the window sill too, in front of me. When I manage to breathe better, I sigh.
"It just feels so much easier to stay angry at him. I... Now I'm so, so confused." I say.
"About what?"
"About what I should feel for him. Should I stay mad at him? Should I pity him? Should I ignore him? Like what do I do?"
God, why can't I stop crying for once?
"I am just so confused!" I cry.
"Ok, sweetie. You have to calm down. Breathe."
"I'm trying..."
Instinctively, I lean my head down against her shoulder and hug her, closing my eyes.
"I'm trying to b-breathe."
Mother returns my hug, softly patting my back.
"It's okay. Take your time, my dear."
I nod my head, closing my tired eyes. She smells nice, like soothingly nice. I relax a bit, remembering how much I missed hugging her when I was younger.
"Just know that I am here for you, Dorothy. I am always here for you. I promise," she adds.
"Hmm..."
Time goes by and eventually, darkness envelopes me and I fully welcome it.
***
Monday comes too soon. I spent the whole weekend hiding in my room. Mother did try to take me out to distract me, but I was unwilling to go with her plan. My friends texted me, asking me if I wanted to hang out with them. I politely declined their offer. I just wanted to be left alone, and I am thankful that mother understood that, although she was not happy about it. When I woke up this morning, I was determined to attend college today. Hampton can distract me. At least, that's what I think.
Looking ahead of me in a daze, I trudge along the bustling corridor with everyone's chitter-chatter tuning out. It feels like everyone's world is in colour, except for mine.
I wish I can escape reality a bit. Forget for a bit.
Suddenly, I collide against a firm wall, hurting my nose a bit in the process.
"Ugh," I mumble, wincing and rubbing my poor nose.
"Are you alright, Dorothy?" a voice asks.
I look up and see a pair of familiar eyes instead of a brick wall.
"I was trying to get your attention but you looked lost in your thoughts," the voice continues.
"I'm well, Damien," I say.
Damien narrows his eyes at me and, to my surprise, he cups my face. He moves my face from one side to another, scanning.
"What are you doing?" I mumble.
"You look pale," he states, looking concerned.
Ugh, I am sick and tired of making people worry about me. Sighing, I push away his hands from my face.
"I'm just tired."
I then look around me to avoid his investigative eyes, and notice that many girls have stopped what they are doing, burning me with their stares. A few of them even have their jaws clenched.
Geez. Can I just live without any drama for one day?
"I'm going to class," I say, walking past him.
The burn wanes and, slowly, everyone returns to mind their own business. Unfortunately, that is short-lived because the second I turn to my right, Damien Clarke grabs onto my shoulders and spins me around so that I face him.
"Come on. We're getting out of here," he says,
His big, soft hand holds onto mine and pulls me along with him.
"W-What?"
"We're skipping classes today," he elaborates.
"I can't miss-"
"Trust me, attending classes won't make you feel better."
"I told you, I'm just tired-"
"Damn it. You look like you need to breathe, Dorothy. Don't resist. Let's escape reality for today."
I stare at him in disbelief.
How does he know? How does he know that I want to escape reality?
Without realising it, I comply. Time seems to slow down after he says those words. But, a sudden burst of colour shoots out from him, bringing colour back into my world. What is this feeling in my chest? It's like a pulse of warmth.
Wait, am I... touched by his words?
I guess I am. As much as I hate to admit it, Damien is right. Attending classes won't make me feel better. I'm sort of glad that he knows that I'm not fine and that he is trying to put an effort into making me feel better.
"Why are you always trying to help me?" I find myself whispering, trying to ignore the glares coming my way from the witnesses around us.
He doesn't answer. Maybe he did not hear me. The bell rings, signalling the start of the first class. He walks faster, making it a bit more difficult for me to keep up with his long strides. We end up sitting inside his car at the parking lot. Damien faces me, his sapphire eyes boring into my own. He smiles reassuringly.
"Don't worry about skipping-"
"It's ok. This isn't the first time I'm skipping my classes. I wasn't exactly a model student back at St. Anne's," I explain.
I put on my seatbelt while he starts the car.
"That's actually a bit hard to believe," he says, driving out of the parking spot.
"How come?" I ask, staring ahead.
"You've always been serious, and that's the thing," he says, glancing at me. "You're too serious here. When we were at St. Anne's, I saw a side of you that was-"
"Oh my god! STOP!" I scream, shutting my eyes.
On impulse, Damien slams his foot on the brake and the car screeches to a halt. With a pounding heart, I open my eyes and sigh in relief. In front of the car is a very annoyed Nolan standing with his arms crossed across his chest. The relief I feel suddenly morphs into annoyance and anger.
Does Nolan have a death wish?
I feel a bit of weight pressed just above my chest. I look down and see Damien's muscular arm stretched across my chest, protecting me. I feel my heart rate picking up.
"Are you alright?" Damien asks me.
I snap my head to the right to look at him. He is looking at me with worry etched in his facial expression. I nod my head, clearing my throat.
"Y-Yes. What about you?" I ask.
"Are you sure?" he says quickly.
"Yes. Yes. I am fine."
He pulls his arm away from me.
"I'm going to murder him," he says through clenched teeth.
Unbuckling his seatbelt, he storms out of the car without shutting the door. Nolan glares at Damien while Damien glares back with an intensity so much greater than Nolan's.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Damien growls at Nolan.
"You're skipping classes and you didn't invite me!" Nolan whines, his tough and grumpy exterior melting away. "You know that you and Reece are the only reason why I come to this hellhole. Reece is stuck at the hospital, and you're skipping with Dorothy. What about me, man? Brothers before vaginas."
I visibly cringe at his words.
"Aren't I your brother?"
Damien grabs onto his shirt, pulling him dangerously close.
"Was pulling this stunt necessary to join us?" he snaps. "I could've killed you, Nolan!"
"But you didn't," Nolan replies, not at all fazed by his close friend's intimidating glare.
"I could've gone to jail!"
"But you won't."
Damien, clenching his jaw, pushes Nolan away from him.
"I could've missed your fucking funeral! How would it be fair that I'd be paying for the strippers who I can't have fun with because I'd be stuck in jail for killing you? How would I cope with your death, huh?"
Nolan frowns while I feel sick in the stomach.
Is that what Nolan wants at his funeral? Strippers?
Good Lord.
"...Now that I think about it, I was kinda being reckless," Nolan says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "...The torture I could've put you in... Yeah, I'm sorry man."
"You better be."
"I am. Ah well. I'm alive and you're not going to jail. But let's make a plan about the strippers, funeral or no funeral."
Damien shakes his head, rubbing his temples.
"Just get in the fucking car," Damien grumbles, pointing at his car in exasperation.
Nolan, with a massive grin, skips to the backseat of the car and makes himself comfortable instead.
"Yo Dorothy," he greets, as if whatever that had happened did not actually happen.
"...Yo," I reply, shaking my head.
***
Nolan is standing behind a tall tree, wearing a protective soldier-patterned outfit and a mask. I clutch tightly onto my rifle, pointing the tip of it towards Nolan's shoulder, which is not being covered by the tree trunk.
That idiot.
Suddenly, I hear a faint snap of a branch. I look to my right and see Damien standing behind a tree near mine. He signals me. He points at Nolan who is oblivious to our presence.
"Attack," he mouths. I nod my head at him.
"On three?" I mouth back. He nods.
1...
2...
3...
Go!
We then run towards Nolan, as quietly as possible, and start shooting.
"Die die die die die dieeeee!" Damien and I yell after we see paint splashing on Nolan's dull green-coloured outfit.
"Ah fuck!" Nolan whines, turning around after Damien and I stop shooting. "Not fair. That's two against one!"
Damien and I laugh in victory, high-fiving each other. I notice that most of his outfit is covered in orange paint, which is the colour of my paint.
Victory is mine.
Half an hour of shooting other players later, the three of us decide to retreat back into the changing rooms of the PaintBall Centre, tired yet very satisfied.
Damien had suggested we do paintball. I never played paintball before, but when Nolan explained to me what it is about, I gave in. I'm glad I did. The whole experience of feeling the adrenaline rush and getting into action was so much fun and it was what I actually needed.
"You shoot like a girl," Nolan comments as the three of us are walking back.
"She is a girl," Damien replies before I can speak up for myself.
Nolan shakes his head.
"I was talking about you, dude. Dorothy shoots like a man." A large grin makes its way to my face while a frown etches Damien's features. That is totally unexpected. Nolan's hazel eyes land on my face. "I am very impressed, by the way."
"Aw. Thanks, Nolan," I say. We do a fist bump.
"Well, I haven't played this since I was fifteen," Damien says.
"And it was Dorothy's first time," Nolan points out.
"Burn," I say, fist bumping Nolan again.
"Whatever," Damien grumbles. "And what's with you taking Dorothy's side all of a sudden? What ever happened to brothers before vaginas?"
Nolan shrugs.
"Dorothy is an exception," he simply says.
He looks at me again, a sweet smile on his face.
"I got your back, little one."
My heart tugs and a wide smile forms on my face. Forget what I said. I like him now. He's like one of my favourite people. True, Nolan can act like an annoying, benign sex-addict but that's just how he is.
***
Damien parks the car in front of my house. We have already dropped Nolan off at his house, so Damien and I are alone in the car. My seatbelt is already unbuckled and my hand is resting on the latch that, if pulled, will open the door.
"Thanks for today," I say to him.
"Don't mention it," he replies, smiling. "How are you feeling?"
"Better. So much better."
"I'm glad. Oh, don't worry about Joanna. I informed her that you were with me the whole day."
I mentally slap myself. I forgot to inform her. Oh my god, is she mad at me for skipping college and not telling her about it? I guess Damien read my mind because the next thing he says is, "Don't worry, Joanna is fine with it."
I then rest my hands on my lap, sighing in relief.
"Damien... I... I appreciate what you are doing for me... But I cannot help but wonder why you are helping me."
"Don't think about it."
"I can't. I owe you big time, Damien."
"Do you?" he asks, amused.
"Yes. Tell me what you want. I'll do it."
"Depends on how far you're willing to go."
"I'll try my best," I reply.
He stays silent, pondering.
"Really?" he asks.
I nod.
"Yes."
"You sure?"
"...The way you're asking me this is like you want me to help you bury a dead body or something," I say, making him chuckle.
"I will never ask you to do anything illegal, or anything that could hurt you."
"Good to know. Now tell me."
Suddenly, his smirk disappears and his eyes lose that spark of mischief. I get a bit startled by his sudden change in expression. Cautiously, he leans his face closer to mine until our foreheads are only an inch apart.
"Go out with me," he whispers, staring deep into my eyes.
In a trance, I stare into his eyes and let his forehead press against mine. He then closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in.
"Please."
I close my eyes for a short while before I pull myself away from him. He opens his eyes and looks at me yearningly.
"...Why?" I whisper, trying to retain control over myself.
"Isn't it obvious enough?"
"I am happy just the way we are; friends. Isn't that enough?"
"It's not," he says. "I want you to be mine."
Why does he want me to be his property? What does that even mean; to be his...?
Unless...
"Wait... Are you pursuing me because you want to make me another one of your conquests?!"
His eyes widen in utter shock.
"What? No!"
Noticing that my glare has not diverted away, he sighs, rubbing his temples.
"I will never treat you like that Dorothy. I thought you knew me better."
"Well don't blame me for believing it. Your history isn't very convincing," I say, crossing my arms.
He sighs.
"You know, you may be one of the smartest person I know, but you're actually quite thick-headed when it comes to reading someone."
"I am not."
"Yes you are."
"Am not."
"Are too."
My eyes narrow at his childishness.
"Look Damien, I never dated anyone–"
"I never dated anyone too."
"And I want to keep it that way for myself," I continue.
"Why?"
"Because I'm not interested. I told you before."
"You said you'll return my favour."
"I... Look, if I do go on a date – whenever that happens – I picture myself going because I want to not because I have to."
He slumps back, resting his head against the head rest of his seat.
"You really are a tough one," he mumbles, staring at the dark view in front of him. "But, lucky for me and unlucky for you, I am quite a stubborn one. I will not give you up. I will wait."
"I suggest you give up. You'll be disappointed if you put too much effort on me and get nothing in the end."
"You're so sure that you won't give in."
"And you're so sure that I will," I mimic his tone.
He bites his lower lip before he chuckles.
"How cute," he says after a short while. "But I am serious. I will wait for you because, honestly, I don't want anyone else."
And here we go again. I can't deal with this topic anymore.
Rolling my eyes, I open the door and step out.
"Goodnight, Damien," I say.
He faces me, leaning his head back. A half crooked smile makes its way to his face. Any girl in my position would swoon over the sight of Damien that I am seeing right now, with his well-defined jaw, twinkling blue eyes and perfectly straight teeth.
"Goodnight, Dorothy," he replies. "You know, it's just a matter of time before I start saying goodnight, my love."
I slam the door shut and walk into my house.
*~*~*~*~*