Fighting for her (Novak series #1) {Completed}

11. Recover

Hope’s POV

My body aches, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt as run over as now. I don’t really remember what happened. Am I dead? No, I can’t be, given that I still feel pain. You don’t do that in heaven, do you? Or have I gone to hell!? What have I done in my life that’s terrible enough for me to get punishment endlessly there?

It doesn’t really make sense that, after all my sacrifices, I still don’t end up in a bright place for the good ones. I’ve dedicated my entire short life to ensuring that Jessie survives and does well in his everyday life. My dream is to see him succeed and get to places that no one else in the family has yet managed to reach.

On the other hand, I’d be happy if he became a sanitation worker too. If that makes him happy, then I’m happy. I’m aware that it doesn’t make sense that my biggest dream is about what someone else manages to accomplish, even though it is that way. Jessie is a fine boy, and I know he can go a long way with a suitable male role model.

However, before I can continue to focus on it, I need to wake up, find out where I am and what has happened. I hear voices from time to time, but they’re impossible to interpret. You might as well play a song backward; I would understand about as much in comparison.

I don’t know why my eyes don’t want to open up or why my body doesn’t want to cooperate with me at all. Something has happened that caused this temporary paralysis, or coma, making me not conscious. Think, Hope, think... I had been working and was on my way home; Jessie was with me. The mood was low because…

Because Farris got caught, and I had to get him out from the police department. I asked Jessie to pour out all the alcohol he could find. We came home and then -. And just like that, everything is back in my memory, every little detail. The pain, the blood, and the grief that my own father could hurt me the way he did. Or well, not him directly, but his actions that paid out consequences.

“I think she’s about to wake up,” says a voice I recognize all too well.

“Jessie?” I croak and, this time, manage to open my eyes.

The light above dazzles me, and I have to close them again. Slowly I try one more time, and at first, everything is blurry, as if someone smeared all the colors on a piece of paper without having a goal with what it should be. Someone takes my hand, and I turn my head to see who it is. Jessie’s troubled face looks back at me, and I smile, even though it hurts.

“Hey, my boy,” I whisper, and he breaks out into tears.

My brother throws his arms around my neck and cries against my chest like a small child. I caress his hair, sway us gently and hush him. The relief he has to feel is evident, and I can do nothing but do my best to make him realize that I’m here, that I’m okay.

Jessie has always had a hard time controlling his emotions, not in general, but when they become too strong, like sadness or anger, for example.

I’ve always tried my best to learn which is the most effective way to calm him down. When he was little and got angry, there wasn’t much that could stop him. But over time, things got better. Since he stepped over the threshold of adolescence, the problem has increased, which isn’t strange considering all the hormones that rush in the body on him.

What teenager is not constantly emotional and has difficulty controlling his emotions? But this time, I don’t feel any particular need to calm him down but instead let him cry out.

“Are you okay?” I ask, and he sniffles before our glances meet.

“You’re the one who looks like you’ve been hit by a train, yet you ask if I’m okay? I’m the one supposed to ask if you’re okay,” he replies in amazement, and I giggle at his words but gasp when my ribs hurt. “Hope? Where are you in pain? What can I do?”

Jessie’s eyes scream panic, and I’m quick to caress his cheek. It’s only now that we’re so close that I realize that the little boy I got the job of raising is about to become a man. Thankfully, he took after our mother more than our so-called father. Not that our mother was a much better parent, considering she left. But it’s better to like an unknown woman than a drunk without morals.

“Take it easy, Jessie,” says a voice, and I turn left to meet Mrs. Novak sitting in an armchair along the wall. “Certain movements when you’ve suffered this many injuries at once makes it feel as if you’re being torn apart even though it isn’t like that. Your sister needs rest and someone who takes care of her. In time she’ll recover, I promise.”

It’s only now that I realize that I’m not quite sure where we are. Given that it doesn’t smell like a sterile area, the bed isn’t uncomfortable, and the whole room isn’t white, it’s clear that we aren’t in the hospital. We can’t still be at our house, because our bedrooms aren’t this size.

Then there’s only one option left; we’re with the Novak family. The bed is queen-sized with soft, light gray sheets that caress the skin. Behind the armchair where Mrs. Novak is sitting, dark curtains are closed around the windows, and it isn’t easy to see exactly what color they are. Opposite the bed is a door that I assume leads out of the room.

There’s a door that stands open on my left side, and I can see glimpses of a toilet seat in the dark. Almost in the corner next to the bed, there’s yet another door that’s closed, and I would guess that’s the closet. On top of that, there’s not much stuff in the room, except for a baby bed, diapers, and other similar items, which makes me understand where I am.

This is Darby’s bedroom. The shame that they see me when I’m weakest runs over me, and I look down at my hands. The man I’ve been flirting with and who’s the father of the girl I work as a nanny for is the one who found me. I’m ashamed of my situation. They’ll never want me to continue working here now, and I need the money.

“Jessie, could you please heat some lasagna in the oven for your sister? It’s in the freezer on the third shelf,” Mrs. Novak says, without letting go of me with her gaze. “I think your sister and I need to have a conversation.”

My faithful little brother is about to protest, but when he looks at me, I nod slowly to indicate that it’s okay to leave for a little while. Honestly, I don’t know how long has passed or how long he has been around me, determined not to go until I wake up. He needs to do something other than watch over me.

“How do you really feel, Hope?” Mrs. Novak asks when Jessie leaves the room.

“Yes, how do I feel? That’s the problem; I don’t know. I feel shame,” I reply, watching her smile fall, to leave room for sadness instead before she moves the armchair closer to me.

“Why do you feel shame?” she asks, taking my hand in hers.

“Because it’s embarrassing,” I reply, letting my gaze sweep across the room instead. “I’m not even capable of keeping my father in order and my little brother safe. It says a lot about a person, how little control they have. I also understand if you don’t want me to work here anymore.”

“Why do you think wouldn’t we want you to work here when you're doing such a wonderful job?”

“Because I bring drama and violence into your family,” I reply, and she looks at me seriously, breaking out in laughter.

“We bring drama and violence ourselves into our family on a daily basis without your help, so you don’t have to worry about that. As for the shame you feel and your apparent lack of control, yes,” she says, looking at me with eyes dancing with amusement. “You’re not responsible for what your father does, Hope. He’s an adult, and it’s not your responsibility to keep Jessie safe, even though it’s admirable that you prioritize it.”

“But, if not me, who else?”

“Your father, Hope. He’s the one who ultimately has the main responsibility for you, or at least Jessie, now that you’re of age. But even if you’re of age, it’s still Farris who should take on the role of taking care of you as well. You’ve done everything for your brother, and I personally admire your contribution to his life that you ignored your education to give that opportunity to him. This situation hasn’t occurred because you’ve got a lack of control or because you can’t keep Jessie safe. No, this has happened because Farris isn’t capable of being a stable parent. He’s the kind of person who never should’ve had children from the beginning because he’s far too selfish to take care of someone else. Hell, he can barely take care of himself,” she says, and my eyes release tears that fall over my cheeks as she gently wipes away. “I know it hurts to hear this, Hope. But from my own experience, I can say that such people can’t be saved. The version of your dad that you remember from when you were a kid isn’t the same person today. You’ve done more than enough. For your own sake, stop trying to help a person who will never change but who will instead continue to hurt you either physically or mentally. Let go of Farris and focus on yourself. Jessie needs you in his life and is at his best when you feel good. But the one who needs you the most is you.”

At this point, my tears fall faster, and I can’t ultimately hold back my crying. I put my head in my hands and feel my whole body shaking with the grief. Mrs. Novak sits down on the bed next to me and takes me in her arms. Just like I did with Jessie, she rocks us back and forth softly.

It’s not that I didn’t know for a long time that it’s not possible to save Farris. But on the other hand, he’s my dad, the closest I’ve been able to get to a parent in my entire life. My mom didn't want me, my dad didn't want me, Freddie hurt me, and Jessie needs me.

Who knows if he would still want me in his life if he weren't in a dependency position.

I'm not mad at Mrs. Novak because I know she's right. Farris is a dead race, and I might as well try to help a wall stop being a wall. It would be about as productive. Even though she's right, I can't help but feel my heart bursting in my chest. All the harsh words I've heard over the years, the humiliation every time I had to help Farris get up from the lawn outside, the glances in the school corridors, and the whispers of the gossipers at the grocery store. But even though all of this is true, and I've known it, it doesn't mean it can't hurt more than anything I've ever experienced.

A/N:

Hello everyone!

It's been a while since I updated this book, simply because I haven't had time. As many of you already know, I moved to a new apartment relatively recently, and as if that weren't enough, I also had to clean the old apartment before December 22nd. Then it's been Christmas, and now New Year is just around the corner, as you know. In addition, I had a little difficulty writing this chapter because it's very reminiscent of my own experiences with family members who weren't there when they should've been, thus making it emotionally hard to write. Well, what did you think?

~ Can Hope come back after this?

~ What did Hope mean by the fact that it was not Farris directly who hurt her, but the consequences of his actions?

~ Why do you think she feels shame?

~ Why does Eleonora want to help her?

~ How will the meeting with the others in the family go?