(Mi) His magical touch

*there is asult content in this chapter I should say over 18's really but the whole blook should really be over 18's any way. Not really a trigger but you have all been warned. ;-)

His magical touch

Mi

I retreated to my wardrobe in my bed room. It was at least safe in there, away from him and them and everyone else in the unit and I spent eight long hours in there. The staff did come in and check but they didn’t push me. I wasn’t sure why they let me go. Maybe it was because I wasn’t angry or even sad. It was just somewhere that I had to be and it was so ultimately set in my mind that they couldn’t ague with it not even if it made me miss lunch or snacks or any other activities. I could have happily stayed there forever in my ball. I could have put up with the cramp and the pins and needles to stay in the security that was a dark hole surrounded by cheap beach effect wood but my bladder had other ideas. At the end of it all I eventually had to, no matter how reluctantly, make a trip to the bathroom.

I ran to the bathroom quickly and lightly on my feet Checking the corners for monsters as I went. I didn’t want to see anyone and a glimpse of Connor would have about destroyed me. I had loved the man that had left me. The one who sat next to my curled up body like a protective Labrador ready to defend off any monster big or small that put me in danger. I had loved the scruffy haired boy that had pilled blankest onto me when my body trembled  with shivers and took them away as I over heated, but he had not come back to me as I had wished, and worse, someone else had inside the body that I felt like I knew.

After I had been to the toilet I planned to go back to my cupboard.  I would try and sleep in a nest of my old cloths and dream until the staff awakened me there and forced me out physically or Emmet and Esmee came to save me. I had overheard staff saying that Esmee had called in for her shift saying that Mia and Emmet had gone down with a 24 hour bug and there was no one else to look after them both but she would be back for her early shift tomorrow and if Emmet was feeling better he would come in for the night. I hoped to stay safe until then, until there was someone to run to and someone to explain why the world seemed to hate me so much.

I got about half way back to my bedroom before some grabbed me from behind pulling at my wrists and twisted me around so my back was braced against the cold wall. I shouted before I could properly comprehend whose eyes were starring back into mine. Whose eyes were trying to work them out about as much as I was trying to work out who or what now lived in his.

“What are you planning to do to me Connor?” I asked. I know I should have felt fear at being held like this by him. I had thought that when I saw him again I would have been terrified but something inside me refused to feel it. If he was going to hurt me he, he was going to hurt me, and strangely I didn’t mind really. My destruction at his hands seemed almost OK.

“Do to you? I would never hurt you MI.”

“Then why did you just tackle me from behind Connor? You hurt me then. You know I have the wrists of a 90 year old, you could have broken them. The Connor I knew wouldn’t have done that to me. You were gentle and kind back then. I mean what was that stunt you were playing with Jean. You were so rude to her and you know as well as I do that she is one of the best damn nurses that this place has. A little annoyingly cheery at time yes but hell you have to laugh at this place if you ever stand a chance at getting out of here alive!” I yelled at Connor my anger swelling into void that the fear should have used. I wanted to know what had made him like this. Who had stolen his heart when he had got into that car and drove away from this place?

“Anger, well that’s a new one. Anger I like. It’s good to see some fight in you.” Connor grinned as he let go of my wrists and held me against the wall with his sheer force of presence. I had missed his smile more than even I knew I had missed it, and now that it was in front of me again, complete on his perfect face it almost hurt. My Connor had always used this smile for me back when he was whole still – back when he felt the electric that I had.

“I am angry because I don’t know what has happened to you Connor! I’m angry because you survived too long in here only to be corrupted somehow when you were given your life back! I’m angry because they took you away from this world and you were perfect!” I almost sobbed at him at the same time as I tried not to reach out and shake him by the shoulders.

His lips reached mine before I saw it happen and the magic exploded inside my head before I had time to pull away or protest. My body didn’t care to listen to logic then. It acted instinctually and furiously as his teeth brushed lightly over my bottom lip and I pushed myself closer into him, pushing my left hand up under his t-shirt and gripping my right into his tousled hair so I could hold his face to mine and take the kiss deeper. His mouth responded to mine without even thinking. His lips and tongue working in perfect time making every sense inside me explode in passion and heat. He then took it even further as I felt the scar tissue on his rough hands crease the contours of my back, lingering gently in the arch before meandering its way to the top and resting over my bra. It would have been so easy for him to undo it then, and I wanted him to. I wanted to rip the t-shirt off over his head while he pulled off my jumper and carried me away were we could get even closer. I wanted to feel every part of his bare skin rubbing against mine. I wanted to breathe him in and taste his flesh so he could bring every part of me to elation and I thought I was going to get my wish as I felt my bar go lose around my back…

“Shit! Stop it Connor!” I could have screamed at him as he dropped my body as quickly as he picked it up and left me feeling cold. I wanted to cry it hurt so much. I had never felt that way before, never experienced such sensual pleasure and I never wanted it to end.

“I am so sorry Mi… I have no idea what came over me, or why the hell I decide to take your bra off,” Connor stuttered before smacking his hands to his head, “Connor you are such a damn idiot!”

“Don’t,” I said taking a step closer to him and taking his hands in mine so I could lower them to his sides, “It’s Ok… I mean, I enjoyed it… I mean… I didn’t want you to stop.”

flesh mix up (Esmee)

Sorry it took so long. Hope it is OK. more soon

Flesh mix up

“It’s not the face, but the expressions on it. It’s not the voice, but what you say. It’s not how you look in that body but the things you do with it. You are beautiful."

Stephenie Meyer

The host

 

 

We reached a stale-mate. Emmet had tried to get some understanding from me. Some minor compassion and I had used the words that would hurt the most to destroy him, and I had. Emmet could not form speech to argue with me, he couldn’t even muster up any anger to shot down my ridiculous proposition. Whatever it was inside of me that had decided that my physical being had anything weight behind how much Emmet loved me was not located somewhere in the sane part of my brain. It had never been an issue and the real part of me, the part that wasn’t being ravished by old demons knew that it never would be. I would always be good enough for him weather I stood in the sun or the rain, weather I was fat or thin, short tall or anything in between. I never understood how or why he came to this conclusion but he had and I was done fighting it because every time I did we both nearly ending up underground however I did have to be the best person I could be for him and to use the thing that intertwined us so deeply in hurt against him was one of the worse things that I could do.

There were no options left. Everything about the day had broken me in some way and though I did not deserve compassion or understanding for my current pain, I hurt more then was manageable. As humans we always had to have options of making the pain go away, even if the method was unconventional, or even painful.

I turned away from Emmet and left the room, my reluctant feet dragging me towards the kitchen. I knew what I had to do now as inevitability. When I was a teenager or even just a bit younger it would have never have worked like this There was nothing calm about razors on skin and blood on bandages it was chocking but now it wasn’t like that. There wasn’t really anything to fight. It had gone past any fight and there was no one to stop me. Not to mention I was just too exhausted to care.

I reached the cupboard on the right above the sink and opened the door going up on tip toes and clenching my stiff fingers around the same metal box that was always there. It was so pretty yet hidden from view from the rest of the world because its tools that lurked inside were ugly. They were only there for me of course. Most families didn’t need a box for such usage but it had been here since we moved next to a bright yellow sharps box and first aid kit.

Very gently I rested the box on the counter and lifted out what I was after, unwrapping it so the soft brushed seal could glint up at me from the sharp end and without meaning to – even though the reaction repulsed me I smiled. I didn’t know what it was inside of me that made me feel like I needed the blood so much but my physical being new that it would make me feel better before the pain came again and it was happy about it.

I chose my arm as the spot to use; the fleshy underside of my wrist the destination for the new collection to the scars that already marked the skin in fury and held the edge at the skin teasing it.  I wasn’t sure why I chose there. I normally went for the legs as they were easy to hide and that was now important but they almost felt too far away. It would take too long to pull my jeans off and it was my wrists that pulsed with blood.

As I was about to press down Emmet came behind me his arms wrapped around on the outside of mine grabbing at my wrist and hands  trying to take the object that threatened my skin out of my hands and I pulled away from him unable to listen to his pleas or efforts to stop me.

The blade caught on skin as I jerked my arm back to shake off Emmet. The familiar tightness that I wanted to feel that was blade going through flesh pleasuring my fingers and there was the blood too. The warm stickiness washing over my hands and dripping to the floor giving me a slight thrill however the feeling still wasn’t right. There was no pain or no release from my body only more horror as Emmet dropped my arms with a shriek and grabbed hold of the bleeding gash that sped about six inches down his underarm from wrist to elbow. I had cut the wrong wrist.

Conditions of love (Esmee)

Conditions of love

I felt so mental drained time I got back to my car I almost gave up on the idea of driving and hoped on the bus that waited patiently outside the Hospital with the promise of taking me near enough to my front door without me having to do anything as strenuous as having to turn a weal or revers out of small places However, I needed the car tomorrow and I would have to take it home at some point anyway it may as well have been then.  I just had to stop being a baby and get on with it.

I swore, the language getting too bad to repeat as I stalled the car twice trying to reverse out of the ridiculously tight space that I had somehow magically managed to squeeze into but had no hope in hell of getting out off.

“I just want to fucking well go home!” I yelled whacking the steering weal hard with my hands then swearing again because it hurt. It took five attempts but finally I made it out of the tight gap and made my way home arguing with any red light that dared to hold me up.

I didn’t actually know why I was desperate to be back home. The familiarity of the place would bring me some comfort but mostly maybe it was just a place I could cry without looking like a fool. Pregnancy along with other things had made me a little too fond of crying and in fact it had the nasty habit of turning me into a blubbering heap at the drop of a hat. There was only one barrier to my overactive tear ducts when I was at home and that was Emmet. He obviously made no fuss about my tears but any fool could see they hurt him more than they were hurting me. Something about my tears just didn’t sit right with him, for whatever reason they always caused him pain. So for his sake I would try to hide any crying that was to be done from his view no matter how much it felt like I may have chocked in the meantime.

It only took me about ten minutes to get home – probably less than that – but it felt like hours. Finally I made it through but just as I was about to pull down the Handel and let myself in, so I could sink into the sofa and cuddle the cushions until Emmet go the idea he would made a better replacement, the door flew open anyway.

“Where the hell were you?” Emmet bellowed at me from the top of his lungs making the bundle of blankets that he held in his right arm shriek and grow tiny little arms and legs the stretched out in ridged panic. “I mean what is the point of your owning a phone if you never answer it?” He shouted again as he jiggled the arms, legs and blankets from side to side which only made them cry more.

“You’re yelling at me and you have a new-born baby in your bloody arms! I think you may owe me an explanation first before you rant at me!” I shouted back angrily even though it wasn’t anger that I really felt. It was the lump in my throat that was bothering me the most. The tears that I now couldn’t really justify letting lose to the world but they had to come out some one way or another and Anger was close to sadness in the strangest of ways. Anger I could justify, any woman could justify anger when faced with their husband carrying a strange baby they didn’t know about, but it wasn’t really what I felt.

“I tried to call you Esmee! A disgruntled social worker by the name of Sarah literally turned up on the door step with her and begged me take her as an emergency for 48 hours. What the hell could I say?”

“The word no was invented for this exact situation dick head! Or how about come back once I have gotten hold of my pregnant wife who I just asked to have an abortion a few hours ago!” I shouted at Emmet even louder than he had at me. I felt bad for doing so though. I would have done the same thing without thinking. The thing is Emmet wasn’t really anger either. By the strain on his face and the effort he used to shout I could tell that he really felt terrible. All the shouting was just serving to make us feel worse. Someone had to step up before we hurt the people we were trying to protect.

“Why are we even yelling at each other Emmet?” I asked

“I don’t know.” Emmet shouted back before he lowered his voice so it was just eligible over the baby wales. “I’m sorry,” he added, “about everything, but she is just a little baby. I can’t say no to a week old baby who has no one. Not when those eyes looked at me, I could never say no to those eyes.”

“I was in the hospital. I couldn’t answer my phone. I’m sorry too,” I moaned before realising I had said prissily the wrong thing to calm the situation any further and would make me closer to crying all over him even though he had a baby that would give me a run for my money on the battle for his attention.

“The hospital!” Emmet shouted, almost dropping the baby that was beginning to calm down in the safety of his right arm before he rushed over to my side and started examining me with his eyes looking for injury or illness before eventually his eyes landed on my slightly swollen tummy and he went white.

“What happened Esmee? Are you OK? What did the doctors say? You should have called me I could have been with you. Why did they discharge you without calling me to get you? I am so sorry Esmee I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I can be such an idiot.”

The flood gates opened before I could stop them. It had been easier when he was being hostile with me to bay them back behind walls. If he was yelling at me I could yell back at him but now he was my Emmet and he was soft and gentle and as he squeezed my hand it felt like he had reached right in and squeezed at my heart.

I buried my face into his shoulder before he could see the tears but they were still impossible to miss as my whole upper body shook and I could feel the tears drying into the fabric of his t-shirt. As I expected they made me feel better almost instantly every pent up feeling washing out of me but it came at a coast. The tears that freed me burned Emmet.

“Esmee talk to me, what’s happened? What went on at the hospital? Are you sick? Are you hurt?” Emmet asked his voice desperate now as he tried to twist his torso so he could look at me properly “Is it our baby Esmee?”  

The words made me cry more and I gripped on to his free arm with all of my might. I wasn’t sure what I felt when he mentioned her now. I had always assumed that pure elation was the only thing he had ever even considered when he thought of our baby but even though he apologized and I had believed him and forgiven him I still could not understand how it could go from a tiny insignificant foetus in his eyes to “our baby” in the space of hours. I wanted to scream.

“Esmee…”

“Would you care?” I sobbed unable to work out weather I desperately wanted to be as close to him as possible or weather I desperately wanted to run away again. “If I said she was dead. That I had killed another one of our children? Would you cry or get upset or think you had dodged a bullet? I can’t decide anymore.”

The choice was made for me as Emmet pushed me away from him like I had sent an electric current through his system. We had already spent to long doing that today, each one of us getting hurt as our skin was ripped from each other’s so harshly. We didn’t belong apart we both felt strange without each other

“Of course I care. What the hell kind of a question is that? We are talking about my child hear.”

“I thought she was a foetus- To you any way. I thought you wanted her scraped out of me. She can’t be your baby one moment and the next minute she is something you just want to be rid of. So which is it?” I crocked my tears more controlled now though in a way twice as sad. It had been hormonal explosion that had made me sob like a baby at first but, now it was just a genuine sadness; controllable yet devastating.

“I said I was sorry Esmee.”

“Well that isn’t enough, maybe it is going to take some more explaining then a basic apology. I love you. I love you more than can be explained by words or pictures or even touch and feel. It’s eternal and it’s magic and that will never change but right now I don’t understand you and I can’t accept you. This is meant to be amazing! We are meant to be sharing this miracle together and instead it feels like I should be protecting her from you. I mean what is this, you don’t want our baby but you want someone else’s?” I asked gesturing to the baby that was not more contented it Emmet’s arms. “Or is it me? You were fine until you realized I had outgrown a size 12. Are you scared I am going to get too fat for you to love?

 

“Just pull yourself together.” Yeah because life’s that simple. Idiot. (Esmee)

“Just pull yourself together.” Yeah because life’s that simple. Idiot.

 I finally took Kathy to the A&E and spent the four hours sitting in the waiting room with her while we waited for a doctor to do what I had known he would do all along. Panic. We did not talk much during our weight, but by then all the words that needed to be said had already been spoken. Kathy had told me to leave a million times but no matter what I missed and that included work, or how many times Emmet made my mobile shake in my pocket there was no way that I would leave her sitting in one of those seats all alone. I knew how that felt. I had waited for an hour, shivering and rocking curled up on the seat opposite from where I sat now until a nurse had come over to me and asked me what the matter was. I had never forgiven my mother for the way she treated me that day. Her excuse was that she was scared. My reasoning was that no matter what fear she felt she could not have been as scared as I had been.

In a way there was nothing much sadder than waiting in the A&E when your mind was sick. People came and go and you felt for them, babies cried from car seats and even drunk people made there presence known in the middle of the day but you knew that the reason you where there was a little different from the rest of them. That the triage nurse wouldn’t really know what to say even if your mouth could actually put into words why you were in the A&E on an uncomfortable seat, staring at the leaflets, rather than at home curled up on the sofa with a mug of hot chocolate. It was heard to vocalize a feeling that was like a pain but worse than that. It was not a sharp pain or a dull ache, it did not come and go or remain persistent and it was not localized to an organ or a joint. It floated around the skin and flowed in blood. It imbedded it’s self in the organs and most of all for no reason you could see or think off you wanted to make it all go away in any way you knew how. As for the reason why you weren’t drinking hot chocolate on the sofa - It was mostly to do with the fat that there was not enough strength left in your arm to lift the kettle and the sound of boiling water might actually make you cry for the rest of the day.

The outcome of the sad hours was even sadder of course. The stranger in green I had almost promised Kathy that would make it better said nothing and then left the room without an explanation. Kathy was so new to all of it I could have cried with the way her face looked when he had. It was hope at its best. A hope that I knew would be shot down, and it was half an hour later when a nurse entered the room with white wrist tags and an admission form before explaining there was no children’s psych  that could make it over until tomorrow morning to asses her properly and she would have to stay with them until that time. Of course that meant a call to her parents as well.

Kathy’s mother turned up fuming with her daughter. She was a short yet thin woman with little bird type legs that were slipped into grey tights and pushed into black designer boots. She had dyed blonde hair that was just growing out at the roots but would probably be touched up soon in some expensive salon with a posh name. She carried a designer bag and smelled of an overpowering designer sent. I could see what Kathy meant. Her mother would tolerate nothing but the best. Imperfection was not an option.

She demanded to know what the hell she was playing at as she texted someone on a smart phone; she also demanded that Kathy pulled herself together in a huff before throwing herself down on the chair I had vacated for her.

“She can’t just pull herself together,” I protested unable to keep my silence as roll after roll of defences blocked Kathy off from the real world she was sitting in the middle of. I had done this to her in some ways. I had took her here and now I saw the harm I had done and I felt sick to my stomach. I could not win in Kathy’s situation and neither could she.    

“Don’t be ridicules,” her mother shouted looking down her nose at my old tatty second hand size fourteen jeans and oversized t-shirt that hid my tiny baby bump from view. “Who the hell are you anyway?”

“I’m just a friend, someone who wanted to help. It doesn’t even matter,” I sighed turning towards the curtain that separated us from the rest of the A&E before turning once more and observing the shell that sat crossed legged on the bed playing with the white bands that had numbered her. “Take care of yourself Kathy,” I said gently, forcing a smile. She did not answer. She didn’t even look up. Then I was gone.

We hoped (Esmee)

Hell i am sorry i am really not sure of this chapter but i had to mfinish it some way. As i said it is only a rough working through here. The main story is on the other site. I may drop the whole Kathy thing entirly yet. Any way  for the time that is here. I hope this isn't to abismal!

 

We hope

 “The hospital; Yeah right. Not a hope in hell is that happening Esmee. Do you have any idea what my mother would say to that? My dad would never speak to me ever again either,” Kathy scoffed her voice somewhere between amusement and complete and utter fear.

“If you’re dead neither your mother nor farther would have a chance of talking to you ever again anyway.”

“Yes I know but if I am dead I wouldn’t feel it. If I was dead, if I was gone, I wouldn’t have to look into their eyes everyday of forever and see that the daughter they jumped through rings for was nothing, more than a disappointment to them – someone that could have changed the world but instead landed up in the A&E. It’s not really their feelings that I care about even though I should do. I mostly just care what my soul would feel like. What is the point of fighting to live if you spend the rest of your life wishing that you were dead?

I sighed running out of words to say to her suddenly feeling mentally exhausted as well as physically There was so many things that I could have and should have said to her and I wanted to but the ending seemed fixed. I would not change her mind that her parents would much rather haver her alive and in the hands of doctors for no matter what reason then having to watch as her coffin disappeared behind a curtain at the end of a ceremony of songs that tried to sum up the life of a girl that should have still had at least sixty more years spread out in front of her. It was devastating, so devastating that without any warning I found tears pricking at the back of my eyes that I pushed back down, biting on my bottom lip in protest that my emotions had betrayed me once again.

“I’m scared Esmee, I don’t know what to do, I am not as strong as I look. I walk around like I understand, like that is nothing that will ever get to me and here you are asking me to go to the hospital. I don’t want to be the freak. I want to be the super girl that everyone expects. I could be perfect if I could just pull myself together. If I didn’t cry over every small little thing – if I could stop waking up every morning and just hoping all day that someone would just give me a hug and tell me that it will all be OK even if it is a lie.” Kathy’s head dropped down and she pressed her hands into her eyes. I had lacked the words to help her because mentally for the smallest of time I had given up on her and now she thought it was hopeless. I had been the first person to every stop her and reach out my hand to her and I may have just made it worse. I should have known better. You never stop trying. You never stop talking, even if you have to say the same thing a thousand different times in a thousand different ways there should never be exasperation in your tone and you should never stop fighting.

“You are going to be OK,” I confirmed sternly as I shifted as close as I could to Kathy and wrapped my arm around her shoulders.  Her body was stiff against mine. Her back arched out like the contact may have burnt her in some way, her shoulders tort and body against the joint. I should have let her go but I couldn’t, her devastation making my arms want to wrap around her so tightly it took all my effort not to bundle her onto my lap. I wiped my eyes with my other hand discreetly. Hormones were making me a wreck over little things.

“I won’t hurt you Kathy,” I whispered gently

“I know, but you are the first person who has put there arm around me in nearly five years. It feels strange.” If she was trying to break my heart it was working. She was sixteen years old and no one had touched her in five years. They were only trying to help it was true but people laid on expectations that she couldn’t handle and never even bothered to reward her with a hug, never granted her any reassurance that she was going to be OK. That she would be loved even if she wasn’t perfect.

“You’re going to be OK sweetheart,” I said again turning myself towards her so I could wrap my other arm around her as well bringing her in close to me in a hug. I wasn’t who she wanted of course. My comfort and embrace meant very little to her on the inside. I could have hugged her forever and she would have given it all up if her mother or farther would tell her once that she was good enough, that they were proud of her just the way she was. That there love for her was unconditional and it wouldn’t go away if she produced something less than perfect.

 I was nothing too her. A passing stranger that in reality had been promising her something that I couldn’t really promise. It should have been that way of course, that a call for help wouldn’t go unanswered but the world was undeniably flawed. My hope had been offering her something that may not have existed. Parental compassion was not always guaranteed, and a doctor’s qualifications on paper were sometimes exactly that in the real world; paper thin and pointless.

“You are going to be OK Kathy. It will be all OK in the end,” I promised again because there was nothing more left to do in the situation. I could live with the hope that it was true and that was what we all did at the end of the day. When things seemed  impossible, when things were bad – we hoped.

The time to fight (esmee)

Augh this chapter felt like it would never end! I'm not two sure of it but i hope that it is OK and sorry about the fact it is super super long!

The time to fight

Kathy took my hand without thinking much more and I wrapped my fingers around hers before setting course for somewhere to sit.

“Do you want something to drink? There is quite a cute little café just around this corner - My treat of course.”

“No, I don’t really like Cafés much too many people, it feels like they are looking at me.”

“That’s Ok; to be honest they aren’t my favourite things either though I can tolerate them if I have to. There are some benches just around this corner as well though, under some trees. My sister and me have sat under there before and had a chat. It quite pretty even in winter and it isn’t busy most of the time so easy to talk if you want to.” My voice chocked as I said the words my sister, as I realized what had happened that day when we had talked on that bench, a few hours later I was syringing charcoal down her mouth while she screamed in agony. It had been a good day until then but it all changed and the story could be the same here. I would have to leave Kathy eventually.

“It is pretty here,” Kathy commented as we reached the bench and we both sat down as far apart from each other as we could. I was not her friend or her salvation. I was the freak in the chemist in the old jeans and an oversized top. “I come here a lot and I have never noticed how pretty it is. I don’t see the beauty in much anymore though, but this, this is pretty.” Kathy smiled at the same time as her bottom lip quivered and her shoulders rose up to her chin as a form of self-comfort. She looked away from me just in time to try and conceal the tears that fell out of her eyes. I sat on my hands to stop me from reaching out to touch her. Her tears were private and what she needed. A thousand tears could stop a suicide. It could even result in a smile at the end of it all.

“How many of those pills were you planning to take?” I asked trying to bring the conversation gently around to what it needed to be, after all I would have been either in another shop staring at forbidden and now somewhat confusing baby stuff or in the car back home by now if she hadn’t caught my attention because I feared for her safety. After all I had a late shift that I was determined not to miss even if Emmet probably had other ideas for me.

“I’m not sure. You’re a nurse, what’s a good number?”

I find one or two is a good number. Get rid of niggling pains and such. They are also quite good if you got a fever as well.”

“So what’s a bad number?”

“An overdose is a bad number. These tablets are handy Kathy but they can also be deadly. They attack your liver in large doses and it can fail. It’s a nasty death. It’s not like just falling to sleep. The body just doesn’t give in like that, it fights to the end. Days can be spent in agony from a failing liver. This is not the easy or simple choice.

“Of course it isn’t simple. Nothing is simple anymore. I didn’t just get out of bed this morning and thing I will kill myself today. I just don’t know what there is left for me to do. I have to stop all of this somehow the pushing and the pressure and the hundred billion exams that fall from the sky and keep me revising to god knows what hour. Heaven forbid I should get anything less than an A or I forget to walk the dog or skip an hour of violin or singing practice. No your right none of this is simple but they won’t want me when I fail an exam or when they find out what I do to get through the days. They won’t want me when I’m not perfect so I am just taking away a problem.”

“All those things that you have just described can be resolved with some basic communication with your teacher and whoever looks after you. You just have to try and explain to them that you think it is all getting on top of you and you need a break. Killing yourself is really permanent ending to what will be a temporary problem.”

“Don’t you think I tried talking to them?” Kathy snapped turning her face towards me for the first time so I could see the tear streaks on her face. “It’s not that simple, besides; I think I might have gone too crazy anyway. I have started doing…things…strange things, to deal with the pressure.” Kathy moaned her voice so muted and gentle time she said the last bit that I had to slip a little closer to her on the bench to hear what she was saying.

“I am assuming that you are talking about the fact that you cut yourself?” I asked not dancing around the subject anymore or giving her time to deny it as I know she would have. She didn’t realise that she was not as crazy as she thought she was, that at any given moment when she was walking out in public or sitting in her class there was a chance that one or two people around her would bare the same kind of scars that she had. She was certainly unaware that the nurse beside her has them littering her arms so they were almost unrecognisable.

“I don’t cut myself, that’s for Emo kids and freaks right. Normal people don’t do that. Why would anyone do that?” Kathy tried to scoff even though there was real pain and anger somewhere in her voice that even she couldn’t here. She didn’t hate all self-harmer’s but she did hate one right then and that was the person she was trying to have a go at – herself.

“I cut my self,” I confirmed in a matter of fact tone as I pulled the sleeve up on my coat and jumper and revealed what was underneath to Kathy. She was suddenly drawn to me and closed the gap between us on the bench so she was right by my side. I was no longer a stranger to her now. We could have had nothing else in common, we might have lived on other sides of the planet but that one thing pulled her towards me and made me suddenly important. She saw me as the rule book for a game she had invented, however I had nothing more than she had I was still trying to find the rules and more importantly the way I could win the game and finish it.

“You did all of these?” Kathy asked softly not able to take her eyes off of the red, dark purple and white scars that littered the entire surface of my arm. Her eyes were drawn to the bigger ones, the ones that healed strange because of a lack of medical intervention, and the ones that had opened wide and bled scaring me in the middle of the night. They were nothing now really. They were raised and dark red against the surface of my pale skin. It was my skins payback, the punishment it decided to give for being treated so badly, but in the face of it all it had forgiven me and it had healed. Reminders were the only things that remained -The reminder that I had fallen but at the same time a reminder that I had got back up again.

“I struggled for a long time and truth be told I still do sometimes but I think the reason that my arms look like this is because for a long time no one knew what I did. I hid it away and never told anyone and all the time it was getting worse.  It became impossible to stop. The thing is Kathy I thought the same thing as you, which was that I was one freak in a big world where everyone else could function and be exactly want they wanted. It isn’t true. There are thousands out there doing the same things and feeling the same feelings but not speaking up or seeking help because the subject is still taboo. You can get help and doing so is nothing to be ashamed about. Hiding away and swallowing that lot with a razor held at your wrist is not the way out of this mess. I’ve tried it and mostly what happens is you get dragged in further until you land up in a hospital or under the ground. They are the worst possible outcomes in all of this. I know right now you feel like an adult and you know how the world works but honestly in the grand scheme of things my love you are still a baby.”

It looked like she was going to fight me and why wouldn’t me at her age I thought that I had got the meaning of life down to an art and had come to the conclusion that it was never going to get any better and that to resolve the issue death was the only answer. If anyone had told me that I was going to get married or own a mortgage for the most wonderful house or to have a daughter and be pregnant again I would have laughed at them and told them that some people just weren’t made for life but I would have been the one in the wrong. If I had died I would have never have seen Emmets eyes or felt his skin on my body, or felt the ecstasy of making love to a man that matched with your soul perfectly. I would have never experienced the most wonderful pain that was labour or had a screaming healthy daughter lifted onto my chest while she was still attached to me.   Any pain that I endured now was worth it for them.

Kathy opened her moth to try and tell me what I had said was wrong but only managed to yelp instead as she shifted on the bench and the fabric of her jumper pulled at her almost useless bandage on her arm leaving her breathless with the pain.

“Are you OK?” I asked

“It’s fine, it’s nothing. They just really hurt lately.”

“Can I see them?”

“Why would you want to?”

“Let’s just say the nurse in my panics about infections too much. That bandage looks like it has seen better days.”

“I have never showed anyone before and you’ll just judge me,” Kathy moaned adjusting her sleeves so it covered her wrists and hands completely.

“You really think that I would have any right to judge you? and besides as I said if you get the help you need now. You you talk to a doctor, you see someone at you school and you get some proper help for all these really overwhelming feelings you will probably never ever see me again after today. On the other hand, if you take that overdose and keep cutting your arms I will probably be the one making up a bed for you in the mental health unit I work in.

Kathy had no words to answer me and instead looked away staring back up from the street we had come from with longing in her eyes to escape what she had gotten herself into. She could have left any time she wanted too. I would have called the police described her as vulnerable and hopped into my car and made my way home with a sick feeling somewhere deep down in the pit of my tummy. She would take the pills without any intervention. She was powerless to them, completely wrapped up in their promise of bitter relief that she thought was held inside the tiny white capsules. She would take the overdose but there was nothing I could really do to stop her from walking away but something internal kept her routed there - the evidence that the battle wasn’t completely lost. She was still open to the possibility of being rescued, even if she couldn’t stop herself from taking the tablets.

“Well you’re a nurse, can’t you help me?” Kathy whispered gently

“Yes but it isn’t going to get better overnight my love, you are going to have to put a fair amount of fight and effort into and you are going to have to do something really bloody scary  and really bloody hard with me right now as well.”

“What?”

“You’re going to have to take this had once more,” I said placing my hand into her lap, “Take some big breaths, and come with me to the A&E,”

Esmee : Hnads to hold

Hands to hold

I hadn’t wanted to be blunt. I had wanted her to tell me herself but she had no clue that I already knew what she was hiding and probably thought I was just some stupid interfering over talkative idiot that took her job with her wherever she went so I had no choice to give her game away and really thinking about it I probably should have been honest and blunt with her in the first place. Because of its taboo and society’s uncomfortable disposition around stuff like mental health problems we all tried to hide it; tiptoeing around the subjects with caution. We should have all been screaming about mental health though, if we talked about it enough and used words like depression, schizophrenia, Borderline personality disorder and bipolar we would all soon find out that we would not all disintegrate into dust at the very sound of their names. That many people displayed symptoms of some form of mental illness and many people could recover. If we said the uncomfortable things they wouldn’t be uncomfortable and going to the doctor and telling him that you felt low a lot of the time, cried a lot and sometimes hurt yourself to cope with things would become as normal as going to them because you had a cough or you were feeling sick. As proved by the way I reacted to Kathy even I got sucked into the stigma of it though and instead of pointing out that self-harm was a very real yet very treatable problem I had made a joke about cats instead.

I retreated out of the stall and waited outside until I saw Kathy arrive blinking in the natural light and clutching her bag of pills to her chest. She looked scared now because for her there was only one other thing left to do and that was to take her supply’s and hopes she would slip away. The fear was there because it always was dying no matter how badly you wanted it was unknown territory for any human as we only ever did it once and no one returned to tell us what it was like. As humans we were all programed to fear the unknown from an early age with our parents scaring us with the threat of strangers and other things. Anyone who said they were not the tiniest bit scared of death was lying.  The fear did not me we would commit suicide but it was there only if for a few seconds.

“Kathy honey,” I called getting her attention from where I lent up against the wall, “Why don’t you come and take a walk with me?”  I asked before realizing the only way I could sound any more suspicious was if I had asked her to come home with me and see my new box of kittens or promised her sweets if she came for a ride with me in the car.  “Ok I realize that just made me sound like the child catcher , I wasn’t thinking anything dodgy, well lit public places with lots of people around was want I meant.” She was not convinced

“I have to get home, I’m sorry. I got some stuff to do; it’s sort of long overdue really.”

“Suicide is a very permanent thing Kathy and there are no second chances at life. Those pills will still be there whether you take them right now or you come and spend some time with me. I know you don’t know me but I work with people like you and I have been through some crap too. I am a good listener. I know you are desperate and distressed and want to check out as soon as possible and I have felt like that too but is an hour really going to make a huge difference in this huge thing you are about to do?”

Kathy went white as she comprehended what I was saying to her. Her hands shook and her bottom lip quivered as her eyes threatened tears that she refused to let fall.  With a few words I had knocked a hole in a defence she had been crafting and she was no longer unbreakable. I was unable to tell whether I had granted her any release or whether she was just angry with me. If she had made up her mind and refused my offer I had to make another decision and quick. Did I walk away and leave her and either tomorrow or the next day prepare myself to see the headline “Teenage suicide tragedy.” Or did I stop her, restrain her if necessary and call police and paramedics. They would resolve my situation but they would destroy what was left of Kathy with embracement and that wasn’t even thinking about the fact that the police could do me for assault even if I did use a by the book restraint.

“An hours a long time when you feel like this; even seconds feel unbearable right now,” she whispered. “There was only one thing that ever made it stop and even that isn’t working well anymore, it may have made me crazy but at least it help. Now I just do it because I can’t stop and it’s not like I can tell anyone because I am the only one that I know who does this and everyone would think I am crazy.” 

“You are not crazy and you are not the only one. I can promise you that,” I reassured taking a few steps towards Kathy and offering out my hand for her to take. It seemed stupid but I had seen the power of physical contact especially among the very distressed help more than any words ever could. I had felt it too at my very worse. There was something about a hand to grab onto that made things seem a bit different. It was the hand to save you, something that was willing to protect and anchor you if only for a little while. It was something that you could hold on to a physical solid reassurance offered into a world of demons that could not be seen.

“I cannot make the feelings go away. I have no magic wand that will suddenly make you better but I am here for a little while. I am someone to talk to and you haven’t got to worry about freaking me out with anything you say because to be honest there is a good chance that after I leave you today you will probably never see me again and if nothing else if I felt so bad that I wanted to take my life I think I would just want a hand to hold for a while.”