The Contradiction of Solitude(54)

My father stilled, his hand falling away from my hair.

“Never, Layna. You will never be a star.” He sounded angry. Furious even. I started to cry. Why was he being so mean? Why had he stopped hugging me? Why couldn’t I be one of his stars? Was I not special like Jessica? Or Stella? Or Elizabeth? Did he love them more?

He saw me crying and he kissed my forehead, pulling me tight. Holding me close.

“You’re better than a star, Lay. You’re like me. You make the stories. Those stars will one day belong to you.”

I smiled, feeling better.

“Now let me tell you about Amelia…”

“I spent three years half alive. Half dead. Living in that house where nobody spoke and just silently waited to end it all. My dad was the one who got away first. A heart attack the doctors said. I didn’t believe them. I knew better. He just couldn’t live in a world where Amelia was gone, but the man who took her away was still alive…”

Elian’s voice carried off into the dark.

The man who took her away was still alive.

Still alive.

I pulled back and looked up at Elian. Sweet, foolish Elian, who loved me irrationally. I ran my fingers along his neck. Over raised, rigid skin.

“What happened?” I asked. No need to explain.

Elian dropped his hands. He let me go.

“Tell me,” I begged. Tell me.

“I did it to myself,” he said quickly. Hurriedly. Spitting the words out before they could shred him.

“Tell me,” I repeated. Encouraging. Trying to placate and soothe.

Elian stood up and walked to the window. His back to me, his eyes searching, searching. Out into the night. Scratches at the window. We weren’t alone. Memories became tangible things seeking us out.

“I hadn’t been away from home long. I had just turned sixteen and was living in New York City. Sleeping on a park bench, stealing food out of trashcans. All I could think about was Amelia. It had been almost four years but she was still everywhere.” He sounded agitated. Wild.

“I was standing outside of a deli, begging for money when I saw his face on a television inside. I leaned into the doorway and tried to listen. It was his trial. It was being televised for everyone to see. He looked so smug. So proud.” He clenched his teeth. He pulled at his hair.

I imagined my dad’s face but I didn’t see it smug or proud. It was the blur. A beloved, yearned for blur.

“Then I heard her name. Amelia’s. Read with all the others. And his face never changed. He didn’t acknowledge her in any way. It was like he didn’t care…”

“I love the stars, Layna. So much. And one day I hope you will love them too.”

I wanted to yell at Elian! To call him an idiot! I wanted to scream and shout that my father cared for his stars. So much.

Too much.

They took him away from me.

Forever.

I hated those girls, his stars. I hated them so much. But I could never share the deepest, darkest mysteries of my traitorous heart. Because this man who was unraveling in front of me would never understand how I hated. How I loathed.

How I loved.

“They said her name like she was insignificant. Like she didn’t matter.” He suffered. He cried. Tears were the testament to his sorrow. I wanted to lick them dry.

“I ran. I ran and I ran. I don’t know where I was going, only where I ended up. By the river. A rusty, old knife in my hand. I don’t remember picking it up. I don’t remember anything but cutting.” His fingers trembled as he scratched his nails along the jagged curves of scars left behind. The visible ones. The ones eyes could see.

“I cut. And I cut. The blood was everywhere. On my hands. On my clothes. Dripping on the ground.”

Elian wrapped his hand around his neck as though he were trying to choke the words, cut them off. Cut them out before they could hurt him all over again.

I watched him in fascination. Enthralled by his pain. Hoping he’d squeeze just a little bit tighter.

Scared that he’d squeeze too much.

Stop…

“I realized what I had done and I hid myself away. Knowing that if anyone saw me, I’d be taken to a hospital and then I’d be sent back home. I couldn’t go back there. So I found a piece of cloth and held it against the cuts until they stopped bleeding. I stole a tube of antiseptic cream from a drug store and made sure they didn’t get infected. But the damage was already done. Now I’m left with them.”

I got to my feet and crossed the room to where he stood. I didn’t give him a chance to move away. I trapped him against the window. Ensnared him with my arms tight around his waist.

“I love them,” I whispered into the fabric of his shirt.

Elian leaned his forehead against the pane of glass, eyes closed. Wind howling outside.

“You love these ugly, repulsive things?” he asked in disbelief. Horrified.

I nipped at his skin beneath the shirt. Piercing flesh. A scolding. A warning.

“You’re the only one who understands me,” Elian moaned as I touched him with my teeth.

“I’m the only one who will ever love your scars, Elian. The only one,” I responded. Emphatic. Real.

Did he hear me? Did he comprehend what I was trying to say?

“Why can’t I stay away from you?” he murmured. He wanted to know. I would never give him the answers. They were mine to keep. I wouldn’t share them.