The Contradiction of Solitude(57)

“Hold still,” I murmured, pressing the towel to the wound. Giving myself permission to touch the mangled tissue.

Blood. Blood. Everywhere.

On walls.

On the floor.

I could smell it in the air. I could taste it in my mouth.

I should have stayed in the car…

“Let me have a look. Let go, Layna,” Mrs. Statham ordered. I reluctantly loosened my hand and backed away.

Feeling sick.

So, so sick.

“There should be some bandages in the bottom drawer over there. Layna, can you grab them?”

The room was dark. I couldn’t see much but for the moonlight shining through the open window. The wind carried the smell of blood and death to my nose.

I was scared.

I wanted my daddy. Where was my daddy?

And then like a phantom, he was there…

“Layna, are you all right? You look white as a sheet. Does blood make you squeamish?” Mrs. Statham asked and I wanted to laugh.

My earliest memories were of blood.

The blood was all I saw.

“Layna?”

I stared at the soiled floor. Red. Brilliant.

Beautiful.

I was going to be sick.

“I have to go,” I whispered. Unable to speak any louder.

I walked out of Mrs. Statham’s home. Numb.

My throat felt tight, and I couldn’t breathe.

The blood was all I saw.

I stumbled back to my apartment. I closed myself in.

My heart hammered in my chest.

I couldn’t stop thinking about that moment. The knife in my hand. The feel of the blade slicing through skin.

It was…indescribable.

I ran to the kitchen, barely making it in time. I emptied the contents of my stomach into the sink.

The back of my neck tingled. My face flushed hot.

I gagged. I heaved.

I wanted to rid myself of all these horrible, reprehensible thoughts that had nestled inside.

I wished I could reach my hand down into my throat and yank it out. Pulling. Dislodging.

I continued to retch until I was no longer able to stand.

I collapsed onto the kitchen floor. Sweating and dizzy.

“You’re like me, Lay. Two kindred spirits. Only I will ever understand all the dark, beautiful things inside you.”

The knife.

The blood.

The smell and taste of oblivion.

“Daddy,” I sobbed. Hating him. Hating myself.

Hating the monster that raged and raged.

Nature’s hold was irrefutable. Unstoppable.

I had no chance.

No chance.

“Stay here, Layna. Don’t move…”

“I’ll stay in the car, Daddy. This time, I’ll stay. I promise,” I cried. Shaking and curling into a ball on the cold, damp tiles.

“I’ll stay. I promise,” I screamed to the lonely room.

Wanting to change a past that was written in stone.



“I think I want to see him,” I admitted, my mouth dry. My stomach clenched. Muscles sore from my earlier purging.

There was silence.

Endless, peaceful silence.

Perhaps he didn’t hear me. Maybe then I could pretend that the words had never been spoken.

But they had been spoken. They had passed through my lips unobstructed. Because I couldn’t hold onto them any longer.

“Why, Layna? Why?” Matt sounded strangled. Revolted.

I stared at the framed pictures that lined the windowsill. Blank faces. Expressions frozen forever.

My family.

The only one I knew anymore.

The only stories I had ever loved.

“I need to talk to him. To see him.” The words tasted strange on my tongue. Betrayal sharp and potent filled my nostrils. I was letting Matt down. I was letting myself down. I had purposefully kept a distance.

But now…

Now things were different.

Faces behind glass.

Smiling emptily.

It was time.

“I don’t get it, Layna. I don’t understand what’s happening. Something’s wrong. I know it.” He was panicked. Worried.

My little brother was apprehensive.

Because of me.

“The clock keeps ticking, Matty. It won’t stop. Years go by and it doesn’t make a difference. He’s here. Always here. And I have to know. I have to see his face and hear the words. I need to find the reasons. Because I can’t live with only guesses.”

Matt would understand. He was the only person in this world who ever would.

But even his understanding had limits.

There were things, important things that I could never share.

“I can’t go. I want to pretend he died. I need to. To stay sane I have to believe that he’s gone for good.” Matt was crying. His words cracked and broke. His grief, his sorrow bled through the phone. Finding rest in my heart.

“I would never ask you to go, Matty. I would never expect that of you. Live your life. Enjoy your ignorance. I’ll try not to despise you for it.” My statement was honest. That’s all I could offer him.

After all the lies, all the illusions, it was the best thing I could do for anyone.

Truth bled.

Sticking to my skin.

“I don’t have the connection to him that you do. I was nothing. To him I didn’t exist.” Matt’s sad, sad voice rang in my ears.