The Art of Life (39 page)

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Authors: Sarah Carter

BOOK: The Art of Life
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My dreams are riddled with
nightmares.
 
I feel like I can’t
breathe.
 
There is a pressure on my chest
and I can’t move.
 
I scream and nothing
comes out.
 
I am trapped.
 
I am trapped and I can’t move.

               
Suddenly, I shoot up in bed,
scared out of my mind.
 
It takes me a
second to realize that I am alright.
 
I
look to the side and see Jeremy asleep in a chair next to the bed.
 
He stayed in here with me?
 
That is so…..sweet.
 
I sit up for a while, just watching him
sleep.
 
His breaths are even and it’s
relaxing.
 
A warmth
spreads through my chest as I look at him.
 
It makes me feel a little better.

               
I look at the window and see
that it is already morning.
 
Being quiet,
I grab the throw blanket on the end of the bed.
 
Carefully, I go over and lay it on Jeremy.
 
Ever so slowly he opens his eyes.
 
“Hey,” he whispers.
 
“You are awake.”

               
“Yeah,” I reply.
 
“You look so uncomfortable sitting here.
 
Were you here all night?”

               
“Yes, I was, but I am used to
sleeping in chairs, many much more uncomfortable than this one.”
 
Opening his arms, he says, “Come here.”

               
Not even thinking about it, I
sit down on his lap and he wraps the blanket around me.
 
I look up at him.
 
“Thank you for helping me.”

               
“You keep saying that,” he
murmurs back.
 
“You don’t have to thank
me.
 
It’s what friends do for each
other.
 
So now, the question is how do
you feel this morning?”

               
“Empty, hollow, scared,” I
sigh.
 
“I had nothing but nightmares all
night.”

               
Pushing my hair behind my ear,
Jeremy says, “I am sorry hon.
 
Do you
want something?
 
Coffee
or tea?”

               
“Tea would be nice,” I
mumble.
 
“I am not hungry at all.”

               
“You will need to eat something
today.
 
I won’t let you get away with
starving yourself, even if it’s not on purpose.”
 
He looks at me and says, “I want you to talk
to the police.”

               
Vigorously, I shake my head,
“No.”

               
“Isabelle, if you don’t say
something, he could do this to someone else,” Jeremy states.

               
That makes me pause.
 
“I didn’t think about that.
 
I don’t even know who he is, only that his
name is Howard.”

               
“Well, the police will probably
talk to your mom,” Jeremy says hesitantly, “But I really don’t want you to.”

               
Laying my head back down on his
chest, I whisper, “I don’t want to talk to her either.”
 
Then it’s as if it all comes rushing
back.
 
I instantly start crying.
 
My chest hurts so much as I do.
 
“I didn’t do anything.
 
How could she say those things?
 
I didn’t want him in my room.”

               
“Of course you didn’t,” Jeremy
sighs, rocking my slightly.
 
“We will
just take it easy.
 
Why don’t I make you
some tea, and then we can call the police.”

               
I just nod.
 
He starts to pick me up and I gasp.
 
“Jeremy!
 
Don’t pick me up!”

               
“Why not?”
He asks.
 
“Can’t I take care of you?”

               
“You don’t need to carry me,” I
say, giving him a look.

               
He smiles, “Alright, but the
offer is on the table.
 
I am just trying
to make you smile a little.”

               
“I wish I could,” I sigh.
 
“I just can’t.
 
I feel hollow, empty.
 
I feel dirty.”

               
There is a moan from
Jeremy.
 
“You aren’t dirty.
 
You can’t consider this anything.
 
Just remember, I am the only one that has kissed
you.
 
Hold on to that fact.
 
Forget his touch and hang on to the ones that
meant something.
 
What he did does not
affect how people will react to you.
 
Touching and showing affection is a good thing.
 
You need to hold onto that fact.”

               
“Okay.”

               
“Come on,” he says, putting me
down.
 
“Let’s go into the living room.”

               
We walk out there and I sit down
on the couch.
 
I watch Jeremy go into the
kitchen.
 
He puts a kettle of water on
and grabs out a mug.
 
I just watch him
silently.
 
Why is he so nice to me?
 
Looking away, tears start running down my
face again.
 
I bring my knees up to my
chest and put my face between them.
 
A
little while goes by before I feel Jeremy sit down next to me.
 
“I am sorry you have to deal with this,” I
sniffle.

               
“Stop saying you’re sorry.
 
Stop asking why I am helping.
 
I care about you.
 
You are my friend.
 
I am here to protect you.
 
Just let me do that, please,” he pleads back.

               
“I want to curl up in a ball and
disappear.”

               
Stroking my hair, Jeremy
replies, “I am not going to let you do that.”

               
I don’t lift my head up, I just
stay sitting with my face between my knees.
 
My body doesn’t move.
 
My heart
doesn’t want me to move.
 
“I am so lost.”

               
“What can I do to help?
 
What can I do to help get your mind off of
this?”

               
“Nothing,” I mumble.

               
Suddenly, he snaps his
fingers.
 
“I know what I am going to
do.
 
I used to do this for someone to get
their mind off of…..well, to just distract them.”

               
That makes me look up.
 
I watch as he goes to the closet.
 
My eyebrows go up as he takes out his violin
case.
 
“I didn’t think you played for
other people.”

               
“I haven’t played for someone in
close to four years, but I want to play for you.”
 
He takes out the violin and bow.
 
Smiling, Jeremy places the instrument under
his chin.
 

               
In one fluid movement he starts
to play and my heart drops.
 
It is
beautiful.
 
I put my hand to my mouth in
awe.
 
He plays to near perfection.
 
I forget everything and just listen.
 
Jeremy’s fingers move rapidly on the finger
board.
 
There is no way that I would ever
have thought he could play like this.
 
When someone mentions they can play instrument, you never think that
they could do it so precisely.
 
I have no
idea what he is playing, but he plays for a few minutes.
 

               
Finally, he ends and I just look
at him.
 
“Jeremy, that is beautiful.
 
Where did you learn to play like that?”

               
He sets the violin on his lap
and is silent.
 
I don’t say anything,
because suddenly it is a very awkward silence.
 
Taking a deep breath, Jeremy replies, “I started to learn when I was in
middle school.
 
It progressed from there
and that is all I will say.”

               
“Well, you are extraordinary,” I
say.
 
“Thank you for playing for me.”

               
“I want to play you something
else.
 
This song actually means something
to me.”
 
He picks the violin back up and
starts to play.
 
It’s another beautiful
song, but you can tell, this time, there is some emotion to it.
 
I sit and watch him.
 
There is an air around him.
 
Like this is where he belongs.
 
It makes my heart warm.
 
I feel as though he hasn’t shown this side of
himself to anyone in a long time.

               
When Jeremy is done, he stops
and almost holds his breath.
 
He closes
his eyes tightly and sits there like that for a minute.
 
“Are you okay?” I finally ask.

               
“Yeah,” he finally sighs
harshly.
 
“Sometimes there are wounds that
never heal.”

               
“I know I promised to not talk
about your past, but….if you ever need someone to talk to, I am here.
 
Thank you for playing for me.
 
It did take my mind off of things.”

               
Jeremy turns and looks at
me.
 
“You showed me your art and I showed
this to you, but please, don’t tell anyone about it.”

               
“Of course, I would never tell
anyone anything that you didn’t want me to,” I declare solidly.

               
Carefully, he sets the violin
back in the case.
 
“I will go make your
tea.”
 
Jeremy stands and walks over to
me.
 
Bending over, he gently kisses me on
the head.
 
It feels really good to feel
him touch me.
 
When he walks away, I sit
there and stare at his violin.
 
I wonder
what scars he was talking about.
 
We both
will have scars now.
 
I hope someday mine
heal.
 
I hope someday I can help him get
his to, too.

               
A little while later, he comes
back and hands me a mug.
 
I take it,
“Thank you.”

               
“I am going to call the police
now, okay?” He says softly.
 
I hesitate,
but nod in the end.
 
Jeremy picks up the
phone and dials a number.
 
“Yes,” he
finally says, “I need to report an assault.”
 
At the end of the phone conversation, Jeremy is told that we should come
to the police station.
 
“Okay, thank
you,” he says, before hanging up the phone.
 
“I am going to call Cassandra and have
her
bring you some clothes, alright?”

               
“Okay,” I reply, staring down at
my tea.

               
An hour later, Cassandra appears
at the door.
 
She walks over to me and
sits down on the couch.
 
“How are you
doing?”

               
My chest tightens, but I say, “
a
little better.”
 
Looking up at Jeremy, I mutter, “He has been helping me a lot.”

               
“That’s good,” she says
back.
 
“I went and bought you some
comfortable clothes.
 
Can I see your
throat?”
 
I nod and lift my head.
 
She carefully looks at it.
 
“It is really bruised Isabelle.
 
My uncle is a doctor, can we at least have
him look at it.”

               
I shrug her hand away, and
mumble, “I rather not.”

               
“Please,” she urges.
 
“I want to make sure you are alright and
there is no damage.
 
Does your throat
hurt?”
 
I nod my head reluctantly.
 
“Then we should get it looked at.
 
Will you do that?”

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