Past Lives
1241 Words
I had sobbed myself nearly to sleep by the time we arrived. Alexandre looked as if he didn't know what to do with me now that we were home. Hesitating at the doorway, he suddenly looked resolved and bustled off with me to my room. He laid me gently on my bed and rushed to the wardrobe against the wall and back to me in an instant, holding a thick fluffy quilt. He murmured unintelligibly and softly to me as he wrapped me up in the quilt, rubbing my back. The ridiculousness of the situation had a laugh break through the sobbing, which made his confusion even worse.
"What can I do? I'm so sorry!" He kept stammering over and over. He abruptly raced from the room and returned with a bag of donated blood, and when my tears still didn't stop, he started bustling around me like a nervous mother, which made my laugh/sob combo so hard I got the hiccups. P.S. hiccups for vampires can be dangerous. Sharp teeth plus sudden movements: accidental bites happen, and they hurt. I finally managed to grab Alexandre's hand and pull him to a stop beside me.
"Stop, ok, stop." I said, and then hiccuped, biting my tongue. Blood poured into my mouth for a few seconds and I groaned at the ridiculousness of it all. Alexandre looked me over worriedly.
"Are you hurt?" He fussed, his hands hovering uselessly.
"Bid ma tung." I replied, trying to swallow the blood while making the statement.
"What?" Alexandre asked with confusion. I stuck my tongue out at him and he looked shocked for a brief instant before the smell of blood reached him, then he chuckled nervously.
"I'll just go, shall I? I feel as though I've caused enough harm." Alexandre broke free from my grasp and started to leave. I grabbed him again in one of those movements that still surprised me, and pulled him backwards until he sat on the bed. He resisted at first, but then became compliant with my unasked request. I waited a beat or two for my tongue to finish healing and my hiccups to stop. Alexandre waited patiently, not looking at me.
"You asked me...about my life. Before..." I said softly.
"You don't have to tell me!" Alexandre replied fretfully, looking with fear at the tears building in my eyes.
"No I... want you to understand. Like you said earlier about getting along together. Maybe it will help if we understand each other a little more." I answered taking a deep breath.
"Did you ever wonder why I didn't insist on going home, or try to finalize my former life in some way, even if by just a phone call telling family or friends I had moved or gotten a new job in another city?" I questioned him. Alexandre looked surprised as if this idea had never occurred to him.
"Dang, how long has it been since you had a family boy?" I said shaking my head.
"Boy?" Alexandre griped.
"Now you know how it feels. Now hush for a moment." I told him and he raised an eyebrow at me, but held his tongue.
"I...really don't know where to start with this. But I saw something on the internet once that said something like 'until you've had someone wash dishes angrily at you, you'll never understand' and I think that's pretty accurate.
"My father was...not a kind man. He did not physically hurt us often, but he terrorized us in other ways. The kind that leaves invisible scars. Mentally, verbally, emotionally, and it was his unpredictability that was most terrifying of all. And he had my mother so beaten down she would just stand by and let it happen. I realized early on that nobody was ever going to be there to save me, and one day I just...broke. I had enough of saving myself. I left, and never looked back. It's not been easy. It meant that I left everything behind and literally had to start with nothing but the clothes on my back. It meant I was poor ALL the time. It meant I was afraid of relationships, because I thought they would turn out just like my mother and father. It meant my 'friendships' were more like acquaintances to me, though they counted me as true friends, because I could never trust, never count on anyone to be there for me when I needed them. My home life tainted my entire world view, and I know that's on me, that's my fault for continuing to carry that forward. But every time someone raised a voice around me I was that scared little kid again, afraid that THIS time, was the time he raised a fist.
"I forgot how to ask for help. I struggled. I stopped trusting people. I waited for someone to save me at the same time I was holding everyone at arm's length. I had already learned this lesson you see: Nobody saves you, you save yourself. But I was just so tired of doing that, and I just wanted someone else to take care of me for a change... and I ..." I burst into uncontrollable tears, and Alexandre, who always seemed to draw away from physical contact, pulled me to him in a gentle hug, letting me cry myself out yet again.
"I am sorry, little one, that you have had to suffer. I know there is much more to this story than you have said, and I will always be open to listening to you should you need me." His voice rumbled softly through his chest and into my ears, as he held my head gently against him.
"I just wanted you to understand. He was violent and scary. He threw things and snapped at us without warning. He tried to convince us we were worthless and stupid, and you never knew when he might swing a hand or a belt, though he liked to congratulate himself loudly on not beating us like his father did to him, as if the scars he was leaving were not just as bad, even if they weren't as outwardly noticeable. It tainted my very existence!" I said angrily clenching my fists. Alexandre hugged me tighter against him. "And then...after all of that... to be killed by some random bad luck when some nutcase kidnapped me, was just...cruel." I paused and my voice grew quiet, Alexandre stilled beside me.
"But at the end, I was ok. I was fine with my death. It was peaceful and calm. Like I had never known. And then, someone did save me-YOU saved me, and it was like a fairy tale where you swept me a way to your castle and offered me everything a person could ever want, a home, wealth, a family, health.... But always, always, in the back of my mind, I'm waiting for you to snap, to take it all away. And your temper scares me. And I know you're not entirely to blame for that fear, but I can't help feeling that fear and reacting the way I do." I was whispering by the end of my little speech, eyes squeezed shut, muscles tense, waiting for an explosion with bated breath.
"This explains a lot." Alexandre said softly, then pushed me back to look at him. I kept my eyes down so he lifted my head up with a finger under my chin, gently.
"But I must ask you, did I do you a disservice by saving you? Did you really want to die?"
- Writer
