Read Sweet Soul Page 24


  I cried harder at the devastation in his voice, the voice I loved so much. The kitchen door opened. “Please go away,” Levi snapped loudly to whoever it was that came out. But I could see them standing at the doorway and I turned to see Lexi, watching me, eyes red.

  “Please!” Levi shouted louder and spun to see Lexi too. “What?” he questioned, trepidation lacing each word. “What’s wrong?”

  “Come inside, and out of the rain,” Lexi demanded and went back into the kitchen. I didn’t want to follow. I didn’t like the tone in her voice.

  But Levi led me forward, taking me by the hand. We entered the kitchen. I saw Ally’s expression fall when she caught sight of me.

  “What’s wrong?” Axel asked, rising from his seat. Fresh tears trickled down my face. Austin stood up too.

  “Some girls from the dinner were caught ripping it out of Elsie’s voice,” Levi said angrily, “she heard every word.”

  “Fucking cunts,” Axel hissed, but I stared at Lexi, at Lexi’s sad face, and knew it had nothing to do with my awful night. Something else had happened.

  “What?” I managed to ask. All voices quieted, all gazes focused on me.

  Lexi shook her head, and clutched a piece of paper in her hand. I stared at the piece of paper, at the rough torn edges, at the familiar lines….

  And then it hit.

  “Clara,” I hushed out and the pain was immediately back on Lexi’s face.

  She stepped forward. “I got the call three hours ago. I had to go straight there to deal with the police.”

  “Is she okay?” Levi asked when I couldn’t. Lexi shook her head.

  She looked straight at me. “Clara threw herself into the river tonight, Elsie. She tied a large rock to her waist and threw herself in. She drowned. Her body was recovered when the night nurse realized she’d snuck out of her room.”

  “No,” I hushed out, but barely made a sound. I had nothing left in me to give. I had absolutely nothing left.

  “She’d left this in her room. It had your name on the back and a small note. I thought you should see it.” Lexi held out the paper and I took it in my hand. I wiped away my tears. Seeing my poem, I noticed that a tear splash had smudged the title ‘Clawed Heart’. A smudge that wasn’t there when I left her this afternoon, a smudge caused by Clara’s tears.

  I stared at my poem, willing myself to turn the page. When I did, I saw the message was short:

  Elsie,

  In the end it was nice to know that someone understood.

  But you were too late.

  Thank you for trying. I just can’t hear their voices anymore.

  Clara x

  I dropped to the floor as I read the words and I screamed. I screamed from my throat until it was so raw that more screams refused to come. Warm arms wrapped around me, but I asked, “What is wrong with people? What is wrong with people that they hurt us until we prefer to die than live in their world? What is so wrong with us? What is so wrong with them? I don’t understand, because I couldn’t ever hurt someone like that. It’s impossible for me to feel anything but disgust at the thought of hurting someone that way.”

  I lifted my wrists, and everyone saw my scars. “I couldn’t do it anymore. I wanted to die, but I was found. I was found when I didn’t want to be. I was found when all I wanted to do was go. To finally get their voices from my head.” I hit my chest. “To take away the pain in here.”

  “Elsie, please,” Levi said. I lifted my head to see him look—so sadly—into my eyes. He dropped his forehead to mine. “Bella mia, please. Let me take care of you.”

  “Why do they do it, Levi? Why?” I whispered.

  “I don’t know, baby, but you’ve got me. You’ve got all of us. And we don’t wish you any hurt or pain.”

  I collapsed against his chest, and, scooping me up in his arms, he stood.

  “Lev, you need help—”

  “No,” he cut off Lexi’s words. “She’s my girl. I’ll take care of her. She needs me.”

  I held on just that bit tighter as we crossed the yard. Levi placed me on the bed with a kiss on my forehead, then I heard the bath running. It seemed only seconds before Levi stripped me of my clothes, then him from his. He sat us in the large bath, the hot water cocooning us both in warmth. His arms wrapped around my shoulders and he brought my back to lie against his chest, his strong thighs trapping me in his embrace.

  Tired and numb, my head fell back against his shoulder. Levi sighed into my hair, his forearm wrapping around my chest. I stared straight ahead, focusing on a single chip of paint on the white wall of the bathroom. My eyes itched at how raw they were, yet my tears had dried. It wasn’t because I felt any less hurt, but my tear ducts were exhausted.

  I was exhausted.

  I’d been exhausted now for two years.

  And I was done.

  “Bella mia,” Levi said softly and dropped a kiss on my shoulder, “how are you feeling?”

  “Tired,” I replied. Levi’s arm tightened across my chest and I lifted my hands to wrap around his wrist. I needed to feel that he was truly here with me. I didn’t want to be alone. I was tired of being alone. “I’m so tired of it all.”

  “Of what, baby?” Levi asked cautiously.

  “Of it all.” I dug my fingers into his arm. “Of why some people make it their life’s mission to cut others down. Of why some people live only to make others suffer. Of those people never understanding what it feels like to be on the receiving end, to be living in a constant nightmare of their making, their face the demon, their voice and treatment the dagger in the heart.”

  With his free hand, Levi brushed back the hair from my face. Picking up a sponge to run over my body, the feel of water trickling over my cold skin, soothed some of the ache.

  I blinked away the blurring of my eyes, and said, “My mom was the product of people that purposely kept her down. It was why she needed the drugs. Why she turned to drugs. To numb the pain. Because it isn’t a pain you can relieve with pills. This pain exists too deep, it’s as unreachable as it is untreatable. It exists on its own plane, and only if you’re lucky can you cope with it.” I sighed. “My mom wasn’t one of those people. She took the drugs to numb it, until the drugs took her. She didn’t fight. She didn’t even try.”

  Levi ran the sponge up my arm, bringing it to my hands on his wrist. I felt his chest tense against my back, and I understood why when he took one of my hands and pulled it back. I left it hovering where he left it, and with the sponge, he ran it down my inner wrist, the warm water running over my scar.

  I felt his breathing change, grow choppy, and with a cut and sad voice, he asked, “What happened, Elsie? What happened to you to make you do this. To want to end your life?”

  He peppered kisses along my neck, and instinctively, I tipped my head to the side to allow him access. I knew he was trying to help me, to show me with his pure heart that he was here for me, he was caring for me, but his question evoked memories I’d tried to keep hidden, locked away. His question set them all free.

  As though as I could physically feel the darkness those girls brought into my life, my body tensed as I heard their laughter flood through my mind, and their words skewer my soul.

  I gripped Levi’s arm and he pulled me as close as he could. “Her name was Annabelle Barnes, and she came into my life when I was sixteen.” I paused, her name pulling difficult feelings from within.

  “When you were in the group home?” Levi asked.

  I nodded my head, as he repeatedly stroked back the hair from my forehead. It felt nice. “I was put into the group home when I was fourteen, after my mom passed. There was no room left in foster care, so they took five of us and put us in the group home. The women that cared for us were nice, and the other girls…” I shrugged. “I didn’t speak to. I didn’t speak to any of them. The only time I would was when one of the staff asked me to answer them back. Most were fine with my notes, so I could mostly keep my voice hidden. They didn’t judge me, the gir
ls ignored me, and I kept to myself. It was a lonely life, one I didn’t like, but I didn’t hate it either. I missed my mom something fierce, drowning in a world of little hearing and no purpose, but I was carrying on. I was getting through.”

  I flinched, remembering the sound of Annabelle walking through the door that first day. Of her putting her things on the spare bed in my room. Of her angry eyes and her haunting face.

  “Then when I was sixteen,” I explained, “Annabelle came to the home and my life changed.” I shifted against Levi’s chest, but he held me close.

  “I got you, bella mia. I got you.”

  I closed my eyes and exhaled through my nose. “From the minute she arrived she was angry. I don’t know what had happened to her in her original home. I never found out, she never talked about it, but it made her bitter. Nasty. It made her cruel… and I became her target.” I shrugged. “I was an easy choice, I suppose. I was quiet. I stayed in my bedroom, reading and writing poetry, while the other girls in the house immediately wanted to be her friend. I think it was fear of her that had them going along with anything she said.”

  Levi’s hand had stopped moving on my head, and I could hear his heavy breathing. I could practically feel the anger radiating from his body. But now I’d started, I wanted him to understand. It was the final part of me that was hidden—it was the most important part.

  “At first I’d feel her stares as we were driven to school by one of the staff. She’d sit opposite me and she’d watch me, silently, no expression on her face until I was unnerved. That quickly escalated to whispers with the others girls, pointing at me and laughing—but always where the staff couldn’t see. I would never have told on them, I thought it would only make matters worse.”

  “Elsie,” Levi murmured. “I—”

  “It didn’t matter either way, because it did get worse. So much worse.” My voice shook, and Levi turned my head to face him with his finger under my chin.

  “You don’t have to tell me yet, if you’re not ready.”

  “I have to,” I whispered, unable to stop my flow of words if I tried.

  Levi didn’t question me or argue, he gave me a simple kiss and pulled away. I rested my head back on his shoulder. “It started slowly, but she began to find me at school, in the washrooms or out in the yard. She’d hover near me, never letting me out of her sight. The other girls from the house did anything she said. But it was worse at home. My things started to go missing. She’d destroy my homework in front of my face, smiling as I watched her do it. She’d try to make me talk, try to coerce me into arguments, but I stayed quiet.

  “Then we got a new carer, Abbie. She was lovely, but she wanted more from me. I knew she was trying to help, but instead of letting me write down my questions and answers to the others in the house, she wanted me to speak. She had read my file, she knew I could, and she thought she was helping by encouraging me to talk. She thought she was building my confidence—her good intent did the opposite, causing it to be destroyed.”

  I swallowed, and my chest burned when I thought to the day I finally spoke. “We were sitting around the dinner table, and Abbie asked me about my day. I pulled out my notepad to reply, when she put her hand over mine and shook her head. “Speak,” she said. I panicked and looked around the table seeing Annabelle smile, triumphant. It was the moment she’d been waiting for, and I knew with just one look, when my voice fell past my lips, that I had given her the ammunition she needed to attack.

  “Later that night in my room when I laid down to sleep, I heard her laughing in her bed. I remember freezing, embarrassment surging through my veins, because I knew it was at me. I squeezed my eyes shut, when she started making strange noises. Then I realized what those noises were meant to be—me. My heart raced as I tried to ignore her, then I felt the bed dip. Her arms pressed to the mattress on either side of my body. I was paralyzed with fear. But she didn’t hurt me like I thought she was about to do. I opened my eyes looking up at her and she was watching me. “What’s it like to be dumb?” she asked and my heart fell. “That’s what it is, right? When you speak like a retard? Dumb? Deaf and dumb, because you sound fucking stupid when you speak?” she raised her voice, and clogged her throat to sound like me. “I’m Elsie Hall, and I’m a fucking retard,” she mocked. I turned into the mattress. Her hand was suddenly in my hair and she yanked back my head, gripping my cheeks in her hand. “You don’t turn from me until I tell you to, dumbfuck.” She paused and started laughing. “Dumbfuck, that’s you, dumbfuck.” She jumped off my bed, leaving me terrified, with tears in my eyes.”

  “What a fucking bitch,” Levi said, but I felt the panic at reliving that moment.

  “It just got worse. In school she’d make ‘deaf’ noises at me whenever I passed and everyone just laughed. At home she would come over to my bed when everyone was asleep and mimic me until I cried. When I cried she’d laugh. I couldn’t sleep. It was all day every day. Eventually I couldn’t cope. But the final straw came when I walked into my room to see Annabelle and the other girls on my bed… with my notepad, the notepad that held all my poetry, and I knew it was going to be bad.”

  Tears this time did prick my eyes, then ran down my cheeks when I thought of the poem that had them laughing at me. “It was the poem I’d written for my mom—”

  “Heaven’s Door?” Levi guessed, and I nodded my head.

  “When Annabelle saw me in the doorway, she got to her feet, and imitating my voice, she read that poem aloud. And every precious word she mocked and polluted with her cruelty. That poem was my tribute to my mom, my little goodbye, my soul poured on a page. And she sullied it, destroyed it in seconds. She then approached me as she finished the poem. I was standing there with tears streaming down my face, feeling she was spitting inside my exposed heart, when she asked, “Tell me, dumbfuck, was your druggie mom a stupid retard too?” And at that point, after a year of incessant bullying and mental torture, I walked away and to the kitchen downstairs. Pretending I was making a snack, I snuck the sharpest knife I could find into my pocket and went into the bathroom.”

  Levi stiffened.

  “I ran a bath, just like this, and got in.” I shook my head. “It was funny, because I knew what I was going to do, but I felt more at peace sitting in that bath facing my own death, than I had since my mom had died, than I did waking to face Annabelle everyday. As calm as possible, I took the knife, and made two swipes across my wrists. I laid back, and let the life drain from my veins.”

  I felt Levi wiping at his eyes, but I was lost in the moment. I had to finish. “I stared at the ceiling the entire time, and I remember smiling. I smiled because I knew that I’d be at peace anytime. I smiled because I knew I’d see my mom again, soon—no pain, no drugs—happy and in Heaven. I smiled as I recited my poem, the poem they’d so viciously mocked: I’d search the world for Heaven’s Door, over mountains and valleys, each sandy shore. I’d find the stairway, soaring through clouds, I'd climb each step, without making a sound. I’d arrive at the door of glimmering gold, I’d slip through unnoticed, not stirring a soul. I’d gasp at its beauty, at its rivers and trees, I’d stray from the paths, I’d hide among leaves. I’d tiptoe unseen, under sun and sky blue, I’d search every corner until I found you. I’d capture a tear, catch a glimpse of your hair, as you danced and you twirled, without any care. You’d smile and you’d laugh, like a bird you’d be free, I’d try not to cry, you’re there without me. I’d stay my hand from touching your face, from calling your name, to feel your embrace. You’d open your mouth and your voice would be pure, I’d treasure the sound, no more pain you’d endure. I’d stay ‘til the sunset, when I’d have to leave, a pain in my heart, my spirit in grief. I’d blow you a kiss, let it drift to the sky, I’d whisper ‘I love you’ and bid you goodbye. I'd pass through the door, I’d descend out of view, Knowing that one day, today, I’d again be with you.”

  I closed my eyes, cradled into Levi’s chest as that poem slipped from my mouth. I could feel the happin
ess I felt that night as I began to fade away, the water turning red around me.

  “Baby?” Levi rasped, as he tucked his nose into my neck. “I can’t deal with the fact you did that.” He took in a ragged of breath. “That you felt so alone that you’d do that to yourself, that the bitch brought you to this point.”

  My chest ached so much that I rubbed over the skin trying to alleviate the pressure. It didn’t work. “I woke up in the hospital the next day, and my first feeling was one of despair. Complete despair that I’d failed, that I’d been found. That I was still in this horrible world. I felt that way for days and days. I knew I wasn’t going to go back to that house, so when I was able, I dressed in the clothes the staff had brought me, took my notepad that Abbie had brought too, and I ran.” I turned my head to Levi’s, still tucked into my neck. “I was running until the day you found me. When I stopped… because of you.”

  Levi was silent as he held me close in his arms. But I was raw and exposed, and I felt uncomfortable in my skin.

  My thoughts drifted to Clara and the lost look in her eyes. I flinched, realizing I’d read her all wrong. She wasn’t looking to be saved, she just wanted to leave this world knowing that she wasn’t alone. I’d given her that out.

  “I thought I’d helped her,” I confessed, and felt Levi raise his head.

  “Clara?” he asked.

  I nodded my head and turned, closing myself in against Levi’s warm body, the water turning cold around us. I rested my cheek on his chest. “With my poems today, I thought I’d helped her. Turns out I’d helped her in her decision to take her life once and for all.”

  “Bella mia, listen,” Levi said. He lifted me until I was higher in his arms. His bloodshot eyes looked down at me. “I’ve been helping out at Lexi’s center since we lived in San Francisco, and sometimes, there’s nothing you can do if someone doesn’t want to fight. I saw it a few times with the people who had eating disorders. They didn’t want to live anymore, so they didn’t. And I’ve seen it here Seattle, with the bullied kids. Clara isn’t the first suicide we’ve had, she’s just the first one you’ve seen. We help more than we lose, a hell of a lot more, but sometimes they’re just too damaged, too scarred, to moved on.”