If you could see me now
chapter 11
"Is it sore?" I asked,
dabbing his nose with a wet cloth.
"No." He was giving me one word answers and it annoyed me. I had done nothing wrong.
"Please tell me how I messed with your head, because I'm at a loss as to how this is my fault," I said.
"The whole thing with Scarlet. I never told you about her. And you were being nice even though you knew about Scarlet and everything," he muttered.
"Yes, that's true, but that would not have happened if you had just told me in the first place that you had a girlfriend. I would have understood."
"But I liked you more than I ever liked her," he said.
"Liked? So you don't anymore?" I asked, grinning slightly.
"Of course I do, but you don't like me so there's not much else to say," he mumbled.
"Hang on. When did I say I didn't like you? I never said anything about that," I said.
"So you do?"
"I never said anything about that either."
He groaned. "This is what I'm talking about. Just tell me! You either like me or you don't."
"I do like you, but I don't want to be your girlfriend. Having said that, I don't want other people to like you or you to like other people," I said, trying to figure out where I was going with this.
"What? Why? If you like me then why won't you be my girlfriend?"
"It's a long story," I said.
"I have time."
"Well, when I was thirteen something awful happened to my mother and I was left with my Dad. I loved my Dad. We were a very happy family until the day that something happened my mother," I began.
"What happened to her?" he asked.
"Sh-sh-she k-k-k," I tried to force the words out but couldn't.
"It's okay, you don't have to tell me," Conor said, wiping a tear from my cheek. He kept his hand there, resting on my face.
I took a deep breath. "She killed herself."
Conor's face went white and I wondered if, like me, he was remembering the day when he saved me from jumping off the bridge.
"Anyway, moving on," I said quickly. "My Dad didn't cope very well with her death and started drinking a lot and using drugs. He was very handsome and lots of women were interested in him. He had lots over, but they only stayed a night and then I never saw them again.
"Then, one day, he stopped drinking and using drugs and he had this one woman, Rochelle, over. She was very beautiful, but not as beautiful as my mother. She had a son who was my age named Harry. This was when I was fourteen. They got married.
"Six months later my father got fired from his job. He spent a whole week drinking in clubs and chatting up girls that couldn't have been much older than me. I remember how much Rochelle cried and cried. I felt sorry for her and hated my father for doing this to her. You see, I believe that my mother killed herself because we didn't appreciate her and my father was always cheating on her. Maybe there are other reasons, but that's what I believe.
"When he came back after nearly a week and a half, he was so drunk I was amazed he could stand up.
""I killed her!" he shouted, erupting into laughter, holding a bloody knife in his hand.
"Rochelle and I looked at each other in shock. "Who?" "I killed the bar woman," he said, laughing again. Rochelle and I knew he wasn't joking. I saw her burst into tears. Harry sat down next to me, his face white. I buried my face in his chest and cried. I remember thinking how lucky I was to have a step-brother that I got along with so well.
"My father shouted at us to stop crying. When Rochelle did, but I couldn't, he stabbed my stomach with the knife. Harry tried to help me, but Dad hit him and smashed his head of the ground, knocking him unconscious. He stabbed him multiple times. Rochelle was going hysterical, screaming and crying. I knelt down beside Harry and took his hand. I remember how cold it was. He was dead. Dad stabbed Rochelle more times than I could count. I stared at him in horror. When Rochelle stopped breathing, and Dad looked at my terrified face, he seemed to realise what he had done.
""Jodie, I'm so sorry," he said, dropping the knife on the floor. "I love you."
"I didn't answer. But I did faint."
I looked at Conor's face. He was a sickly green colour. "Is there more?"
"Yes," I told him. "After that I was sent to live with my best friend's family since I had no other family."
"Where was your father?" Conor asked.
"Prison obviously," I said. "Well, my best friend was named Evan. I fell in love with him when we were sixteen. He told me he had loved me since we were young children. When I was eighteen I got pregnant. It wasn't planned and neither of us were thrilled, but when she was born she was so beautiful that we both fell in love with her instantly. Six months later Evan took me out to a restaurant. We left Tara, our baby, with a friend of ours named Marci, who I haven't seen in years. Evan asked me to marry him and I said yes. We collected Tara after, and when we were driving home a drunk driver collided with our car. Evan and Tara were both killed."
When I finished, I noticed that Conor was looking down at the ring on my hand. "So, is that why you tried jumping off that bridge?"
"There's that and the fact that I have had at least four near-death experiences, and none of them have killed me. I think I was just born to die," I said.
"Everything happens for a reason," he whispered.
"I don't think it does. Sh..t just happens," I muttered. "Anyway, I think I'm betraying Evan if I be your girlfriend."
"He would want you to be happy."
"I don't deserve to be happy."
"Yes you do. You're going to be happy whether you like it or not," he snapped, smiling at me.
"No." He was giving me one word answers and it annoyed me. I had done nothing wrong.
"Please tell me how I messed with your head, because I'm at a loss as to how this is my fault," I said.
"The whole thing with Scarlet. I never told you about her. And you were being nice even though you knew about Scarlet and everything," he muttered.
"Yes, that's true, but that would not have happened if you had just told me in the first place that you had a girlfriend. I would have understood."
"But I liked you more than I ever liked her," he said.
"Liked? So you don't anymore?" I asked, grinning slightly.
"Of course I do, but you don't like me so there's not much else to say," he mumbled.
"Hang on. When did I say I didn't like you? I never said anything about that," I said.
"So you do?"
"I never said anything about that either."
He groaned. "This is what I'm talking about. Just tell me! You either like me or you don't."
"I do like you, but I don't want to be your girlfriend. Having said that, I don't want other people to like you or you to like other people," I said, trying to figure out where I was going with this.
"What? Why? If you like me then why won't you be my girlfriend?"
"It's a long story," I said.
"I have time."
"Well, when I was thirteen something awful happened to my mother and I was left with my Dad. I loved my Dad. We were a very happy family until the day that something happened my mother," I began.
"What happened to her?" he asked.
"Sh-sh-she k-k-k," I tried to force the words out but couldn't.
"It's okay, you don't have to tell me," Conor said, wiping a tear from my cheek. He kept his hand there, resting on my face.
I took a deep breath. "She killed herself."
Conor's face went white and I wondered if, like me, he was remembering the day when he saved me from jumping off the bridge.
"Anyway, moving on," I said quickly. "My Dad didn't cope very well with her death and started drinking a lot and using drugs. He was very handsome and lots of women were interested in him. He had lots over, but they only stayed a night and then I never saw them again.
"Then, one day, he stopped drinking and using drugs and he had this one woman, Rochelle, over. She was very beautiful, but not as beautiful as my mother. She had a son who was my age named Harry. This was when I was fourteen. They got married.
"Six months later my father got fired from his job. He spent a whole week drinking in clubs and chatting up girls that couldn't have been much older than me. I remember how much Rochelle cried and cried. I felt sorry for her and hated my father for doing this to her. You see, I believe that my mother killed herself because we didn't appreciate her and my father was always cheating on her. Maybe there are other reasons, but that's what I believe.
"When he came back after nearly a week and a half, he was so drunk I was amazed he could stand up.
""I killed her!" he shouted, erupting into laughter, holding a bloody knife in his hand.
"Rochelle and I looked at each other in shock. "Who?" "I killed the bar woman," he said, laughing again. Rochelle and I knew he wasn't joking. I saw her burst into tears. Harry sat down next to me, his face white. I buried my face in his chest and cried. I remember thinking how lucky I was to have a step-brother that I got along with so well.
"My father shouted at us to stop crying. When Rochelle did, but I couldn't, he stabbed my stomach with the knife. Harry tried to help me, but Dad hit him and smashed his head of the ground, knocking him unconscious. He stabbed him multiple times. Rochelle was going hysterical, screaming and crying. I knelt down beside Harry and took his hand. I remember how cold it was. He was dead. Dad stabbed Rochelle more times than I could count. I stared at him in horror. When Rochelle stopped breathing, and Dad looked at my terrified face, he seemed to realise what he had done.
""Jodie, I'm so sorry," he said, dropping the knife on the floor. "I love you."
"I didn't answer. But I did faint."
I looked at Conor's face. He was a sickly green colour. "Is there more?"
"Yes," I told him. "After that I was sent to live with my best friend's family since I had no other family."
"Where was your father?" Conor asked.
"Prison obviously," I said. "Well, my best friend was named Evan. I fell in love with him when we were sixteen. He told me he had loved me since we were young children. When I was eighteen I got pregnant. It wasn't planned and neither of us were thrilled, but when she was born she was so beautiful that we both fell in love with her instantly. Six months later Evan took me out to a restaurant. We left Tara, our baby, with a friend of ours named Marci, who I haven't seen in years. Evan asked me to marry him and I said yes. We collected Tara after, and when we were driving home a drunk driver collided with our car. Evan and Tara were both killed."
When I finished, I noticed that Conor was looking down at the ring on my hand. "So, is that why you tried jumping off that bridge?"
"There's that and the fact that I have had at least four near-death experiences, and none of them have killed me. I think I was just born to die," I said.
"Everything happens for a reason," he whispered.
"I don't think it does. Sh..t just happens," I muttered. "Anyway, I think I'm betraying Evan if I be your girlfriend."
"He would want you to be happy."
"I don't deserve to be happy."
"Yes you do. You're going to be happy whether you like it or not," he snapped, smiling at me.
Author's
Note:
Gah! This is so looooooonng.
Sorry if there are mistakes or anything, I have no time to
check it.
Feedback? Follow for a follow. Thanks! ~Mary :)
Feedback? Follow for a follow. Thanks! ~Mary :)
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