These Fragmented Parts

CHAPTER NINE

“Be gentle, my heart still hides wounds that never bleed.”

-Alexandra Vasiliu

EVERY MINUTE THAT PASSED BY felt like years to me as the day felt so lengthy, it diminished all the hope I have left for tomorrow. The feeling of blankness was starting to feast onto me; that kind of feeling we all have when everything is too much to process, although my chest was still restless due to its incessant pounding.  I already got home after a long day without further speaking to Celine about what she just witnessed, I could see how worried she was but then again, I don’t have the audacity to tell her. I just went on with doing what I had to and cleaned few spaces and organized items that needed attention, even when Stinson lingered for a while giving me glares that spoke so much about how filthy he was. I wonder if my sister knows about what kind of a person he is, or she is just falling for his manipulation. I can’t give my final word; I haven’t fully seen his demeanor in the public.

It feels so grave once again; I could feel the heaviness as though it was hovering on my shoulder. I feel so exhausted despite the things I did required minimal energy.  I expelled a deep breath in hopes that it would take my despair away and just took a seat on the bar stool, wondering what should I be doing. I have six days left, and the thought of it is just so purely overpowering with this constant pang on my chest that almost drained my capability to let my tears out, after losing my mother, being kicked out of the house, losing my boyfriend and now experiencing an assault.

The world is so cruel and whenever I think about each event or having them in my head simultaneously, it feels so vivid that it hurts to even exist.   

Just when I was about try and breathe these all out my phone vibrated on the wooden table and it was Chloe. I was hesitant to pick it up since I don’t even know what to tell her and if I should tell her about her boyfriend’s assault, but the sound of the vibration is prodding as if it was begging for me to answer it and so I did.

 “What the f**k is wrong with you?” Her voice sounded the same; full of anguish, accusing and seemingly as though she just hit me through her words. I frowned in confusion and at the same time my heart was pounding faster than it was a while ago. I no longer want to argue with anyone. I had enough.

“What is the problem?”  I asked her. I could imagine her face right now getting redder and boiling in anger. In fact, she was the most impatient amongst all of us, as far as I know. Whether you match her fury or not she’ll just end up being this feisty and aggressive woman that is  worth patronizing as she always deemed herself to be.

“Stinson just called me,” The sound of his name made me more nervous. I fidgeted with the hem of my shirt in anticipation of what she would say. “And he told me that I should be concerned of how you were behaving,” She paused for a few moments.

“You were trying to seduce him, leaving a few buttons of your blouse open, bending over, and cornering him, really? That’s how you want to pay back?”

I huffed in disbelief. How could he have the audacity to even flip the situation when he was the filthy one? “And you believe him? How long have you even known him? And do you think I have the audacity to do that? You know Trevor and I just broke up, why would I even do that?” The moment those words left my mouth, it sank me further to the realization that I somehow let myself submerge further under the reeking waters of invalidation. I sounded so wrong. So denial; notwithstanding the fact that I don’t even know the right thing to stay when I speak to my family, especially to her who always believed the world as an enormous battleground for debate where winning is a requirement to her.

“You’re so problematic, there’s nothing impossible with problematic people. Blood related or not. If you think you’re doing this to prove something, then good luck with your s**t show. You always embarrass yourself anyway. Once I hear another s**t from him, I’d be sure to f*****g kill you.”

“I’m telling you, I didn’t do it!” I protested out of frustration but it just made me sound like a child in denial to keep her away from the punishment of breaking something. I hate this, I hate this so much. “He was the one who f*****g harassed me while I was cleaning the bathroom, and of course you wouldn’t believe me that’s why I didn’t tell you and I didn’t even consider it.”

“Oh, look who’s playing victim again. Just quit your s**t. I know Stinson better than anyone and there is no way on earth he’ll do that. Get your s**t together Charlie, I no longer want to intervene.” I was quite thankful she hung up because the entire argument was wearing me out already. I took a deep breath in attempt to hold myself together but I ended up exploding and spilling all over the place in frustration and in agony that every inch of me trembled.  I always thought of the impossibility that a person can bleed this much, with so many reasons until I eventually encountered it myself.  It hurts more when you grow older and more aware of how vile the world and its people can be and in the long run, you develop or own sense of judgment, your perception even for a little where you realize how wrong and inhumane people can be and labels will never exclude you from the injustice and the nonexistence of empathy they all consist of.

I barely stand firm on my ground inflicted by self-limiting beliefs long inculcated in me, but at this point, I know that I have each and every right to feel frustrated, to delve deep on my fury because I did not do anything and this will be another scar I don’t know if I’ll ever heal from.

-

   I was quite hesitant to work but today was just my second day and I have five more days left but I still went to prevent further disappointing my sister. The remainder of the night yesterday just plunged me further in my own dismay, as I fell asleep after breaking down and waking up early which complicated how I feel more than the way it was. It hurts my muscles already as if I have fever although my temperature is perfectly fine, I don’t want to f*****g do this anymore. I am tired of my own bullshit as well. The sun was now showing, it’s rays creeping on their front porch; the neighborhood is quiet and calm but I wasn’t. I can’t tell the difference between today and yesterday, for me it was just an extension of pain.

When I hopped off my car, no one was tending the plants on the front porch today so I just rang the doorbell, in hopes that it would be Celine who will open up and not anyone else, most specifically, Stinson. That f*****g pig. Luckily, it was Celine who opened up with the same getup, same smile but worry was evident on her eyes.

“Come in,” She whispered. When we both entered, I saw a man buttoning the cuff of his shirt in the living, he was tall about six feet with a huge built. He looked like Stinson. He must be Mr. Lacour.

“Good morning, Sir.” I said, but he did not even bother to look at me probably because my voice wasn’t loud enough or he just doesn’t care if I exist.  Celine lead me to the kitchen but I just stood there awkwardly as I heard Mr. Lacour’s footsteps approaching, “Guest dinner here at 7pm. Make sure to have everything settled by 6 pm.” His voice was gravel.

“Yes sir,” Celine responded and then he just left the kitchen and eventually after a few moments, I heard the front door close. “You can sit down,” Celine cued and there were already some snacks on the bar but I don’t feel like touching it at all. Silence crept all over the kitchen. She could probably tell how bothered I am.

“What exactly happened yesterday?” She asked, referring to the incident. I wanted to tell her but what would it cost me?

“He entered the bathroom and harassed me. If you didn’t come, I would have been raped.”  After telling it to her, she didn’t seem to be surprised at all.

“He even told Chloe that I seduced him, which stirred more trouble between the two of us.” I added.

“You’re not the first person who was victimized,” She blankly stated as I breathed out abhorring the thought. .“Eventually there were lots and not only maid substitutes, some were guests. He gets to run away from them since they’re wealthy enough to pay the families of the victim for them not to press charges.”

“I’m sorry if you had that experience, I’ll make sure to look after you.” She offered.

“What concerns me is my sister,” I sighed, unsure if it was even right to tell her this. “She doesn’t seem to know or care about what kind of monster she’s dating,”

She scoffed in dismay but it seems like she doesn’t want to do anything about it at all. “He plays really well, it’s hard for me not to know after being here for years.”

“But I am here, don’t you worry.”

 I have heard this before, and as far as I know, when those words are said, I should be more concerned.