Scarred Souls: The First Collection Page 8

  I still hadn’t saved his number on it, so I dialled it furiously as I checked the letter to make sure I pressed in the right numbers. It rang and rang but he didn’t answer. Either he’d left it at home, or he was ignoring it.

  I tried again, with the same result.

  ‘Fuck!’ I felt a sudden need to throw the phone into the wall, but if I broke it I was never going to get a hold of him.

  I walked back into the living room, dejected.

  Silver had closed the front door and now leant against it.

  ‘What was that?’ I asked him. ‘What the hell was that?’

  Silver shook his head.

  ‘I don’t know, D. But it was messed up.’

  I ran my hands through my hair, frustrated.

  ‘D, you’ve got blood on your hands.’

  I held them out in front of me where I could see some spots were left. The rest of the blood was on my phone and in my hair. I started scrubbing at my hair, even though I knew it wouldn’t do any good.

  ‘I don’t think I can do this.’

  ‘Hey.’ Silver strode up in front of me. ‘You can’t give up now. You just said you were invested in him. That you liked him. And he needs help.’

  ‘He left, Silver. We’re in the middle of London! He could’ve gone anywhere. It’s impossible to find him.’ How could such a good day turn into a nightmare in the blink of an eye?

  ‘We have to try. I’ll help too. We can go in opposite directions. Try ringing him again. Do it often. He’ll pick up eventually.’ Silver pushed me towards the door, where we both put on shoes and jackets.

  Silver locked the door behind us.

  We stood on the pavement, looking both ways.

  ‘I’ll go here.’ Silver pointed right. ‘You there.’

  I nodded and headed down the street. I tried Josh’s number again, praying for him to pick up.

  He didn’t.

  I looked around, hoping to see some sign of him, but I didn’t. I tried the number once again—and I was so surprised when someone picked up I nearly dropped my mobile.

  ‘Josh?’

  ‘Who is this?’ It wasn’t him, but a female. And she sounded weary.

  ‘I—’ I took the phone away from my ear to stare at the display. Had I dialled the wrong number anyway? ‘I’m sorry. I must’ve dialled wrong. I’m sorry.’

  ‘No, wait!’ She exclaimed before I could hang up. ‘This is Joshua’s phone.’

  My heart nearly beat out of my chest.

  ‘Where is he?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Her voice broke on the last syllable. ‘Who are you?’

  Good question.

  Who was I?

  A huge fuck-up, that’s what.

  ‘A friend.’

  ‘Do you know where he is? He left.’ There was such anguish in her voice. This had to be the mother. The one who had wanted to send him away.

  ‘He ran off,’ I admitted in a whisper. ‘I don’t know where to.’ I glanced around again. No Josh in sight.

  Silence.

  I knew she was still there though, because I could hear her breathing.

  ‘If you find him, will you let me know? I’ll keep his phone on me. Just ring or text or something. I need to know he’s okay.’

  ‘I will,’ I promised.

  ‘Thank you.’ And she did sound thankful.

  I’d just pressed end call when my phone lit up with an incoming call.

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Found him,’ Silver said at the other end.

  ‘Where are you?’

  ‘Soho Square Garden.’

  I hung up without saying anything else and started running the opposite way. I passed our flat and continued ahead towards the park.

  I saw them once I passed the gates. Silver was standing with his hands in his pockets and Josh was on the ground, head buried in the crook of his elbow. His whole body shook, so I knew he was crying even before I heard his sobs.

  My heart broke a little at the sound.

  ‘Josh.’ I crouched down next to him. ‘Josh?’ I ran my hand over his back. I could feel every bump in his spine through his thick jumper and it worried me. Not as much as his sobs did though. Because hearing them really did break me. ‘Josh, come home with me. Please.’

  He didn’t move for several long minutes, but then he straightened up a bit and fell around my neck, crying into my shoulder.

  My arms wrapped around him instantly, and that was new. I was usually hesitant when it came to this kind of intimacy. I never hugged anyone.

  But this was Josh, the beautiful broken boy I’d found crying only days ago in this very park.

  The broken boy who’d somehow caught my attention—and I didn’t want to let him go.

  Josh was curled up on my bed with a pillow clutched to his chest. He was in my clothes again, and I’d cleaned up his arms and put on fresh gauze. I hoped it would stem the bleeding. If it didn’t stop, he’d have to go to the A&E.

  For now though, all he wanted was to lie down.

  I’d sent off a quick text to his phone so his mother wouldn’t be worried anymore. Then I’d made us both hot chocolate.

  ‘Here. You should drink some.’ I sat both mugs on my nightstand.

  He didn’t react, only stared straight ahead, but his eyes were clouded. He’d checked out again.

  ‘Josh?’ I crouched down in front of the bed so I could look at him properly. ‘Josh?’

  I remembered reading about this earlier, before he’d shown up. Dissociation. I hadn’t finished reading that paragraph, but maybe it was good for him right now to check out for a bit. It’d been real intense for him and if this was how his brain got any kind of rest… well, then I’d leave him to it for a while.

  I took my mug and headed back out into the living room.

  Silver wasn’t on the sofa where he’d been earlier, so I went over to his open bedroom door and knocked on it.

  Silver sat at his desk.

  ‘How is he?’

  I shrugged.

  ‘He’s not talking at the moment.’

  ‘You want me to call V? This is heavy. He knows how to deal with it better than we do.’

  I shook my head.

  ‘I don’t want to do anything without his permission. I don’t want a repeat of what just happened.’

  ‘I get that.’ Silver twinned a pen between his fingers. ‘You know what’s happened to him? It’s got to be something real bad, right, for him to be so messed up?’

  ‘I’ve no idea. But yeah, it’s probably horrible.’

  He leant back in his chair and looked up towards the ceiling.

  ‘We’ve experienced some heavy shit too. But we’ve turned out pretty normal, I’d say, considering.’

  Normal.

  That wasn’t a word I’d ever heard directed towards myself.

  ‘Depends on how you define normal.’

  He grinned.

  ‘Well, I turned out pretty normal, at least.’

  ‘Yeah, right.’ But he was right. He was the most normal of the two of us. I was glad that he didn’t have psychological damage after what had happened to him, at least not to the extent that I did, or Josh.

  I wasn’t sure if my aloofness had anything to do with my past or if it was just the way I was. Could be both. I could’ve turned out this way after what had happened when I was younger—or I could’ve turned out like this even if I’d had a happy, normal childhood. I’d never know, seeing as I hadn’t had that.

  I blew on the hot beverage and took a tentative sip. It was still too hot.

  ‘I should go back in.’

  ‘Take care of him.’ Silver smiled sadly.

  ‘I will.’ I definitely would.

  Josh needed it. He needed someone in his corner.

  I should’ve never agreed with what his mother had proposed earlier. With the mood swings and black-and-white thinking that came with being borderline, of course he’d think I wanted him gone too. That I’d betray him.

 
He was in the same position I’d left him in, but his eyes followed my path across the room now, so I knew he was back in the present.

  I put my mug down next to his, then crawled over him and lay down closest to the wall.

  He turned around slowly.

  ‘Have sex with me,’ he whispered.

  I cut my gaze to him.

  ‘No.’

  He instantly felt betrayed.

  ‘Why not? Don’t you like me?’

  ‘I do. But I’m not going to let you manipulate me into sex. I like you, but I’m not going to have sex with you. I’m not.’ Both because he wasn’t in any state of mind to make such a decision, and because I simply didn’t want it.

  What I’d said to Silver still counted—it wasn’t about sex. Sex was never on my mind. My body might like having him close, but not to the extent that it would be noticeable in certain parts.

  I wasn’t sure that would ever happen.

  He closed his eyes. I expected more tears, but they didn’t come. Instead he lay there with his eyes closed, clutching my pillow to his chest.

  ‘But you can come closer,’ I offered hesitantly, and when his eyes popped open, I held my arm out in invitation.

  He looked at it as if it was a foreign object, but then he scooted in close to my side and put his head on my shoulder.

  I put the duvets over us and got rid of the pillow now pressed in-between us.

  He seemed to mould into my side the moment it was gone. His arm slid over my waist, resting there rather comfortably.

  ‘Why don’t you like sex?’ His voice was only a whisper.

  ‘I don’t see the appeal.’ I curled my arm around his shoulders.

  His blond hair was wet against my thin T-shirt, because I’d made him take a shower. Once I’d got the hooded jumper off him, it had become evident that he didn’t just have blood on his arms and jaw, but a lot of it smudged on the rest of his face and even in his hair.

  ‘But it’s good.’

  ‘I hear people say that, but it doesn’t mean anything to me. I don’t have an interest in it.’ His shoulders were bony. He was too thin. I found myself wondering how often, and how much, he ate.

  ‘Am I bad for liking it?’

  This was not taking a good turn.

  ‘No. People who like it are far more superior to those like me who don’t. Don’t worry about it. I’m the abnormal one, not you.’

  He shook his head, though it was a bit awkward with his head resting against my shoulder.

  ‘You don’t understand. I liked it. Every time he came into my room, or cornered me in the kitchen or the bathroom or pushed me onto the sofa… my body liked it every time, except from when he was too rough. He liked to hurt me, but the times he was gentle, I liked it.’

  Oh shit.

  ‘Who’s he?’ I dreaded the answer.

  ‘My mum’s husband. Ex-husband, now.’

  ‘Your father?’

  Another awkward shake of his head.

  ‘Stepfather. I don’t know who my father is.’

  His arm, which had been resting comfortable across my stomach, now lifted. He put his hand back down on my stomach and splayed it out, twisting the material of my shirt.

  ‘Ten years. At least that’s as far as I know. I learned to spell when I was six, and that’s when I wrote my first journal entry.’

  Six years old.

  And sexually abused by an adult who was supposed to care for him. No wonder he was a mess.

  ‘People say that sex is good. Maybe—‘ This wasn’t my area of expertise at all. ‘Maybe the body likes the stimulation even if the mind doesn’t like the person or the situation.’

  ‘That’s what Vincent told me, too.’

  Vincent?

  ‘What?’

  ‘My psychologist.’

  We lived in London. Surely there couldn’t be such a coincidence? There must be many psychiatrists out there named Vincent, who took in patients with borderline personality disorder and who wasn’t related to my best mate.

  Right?

  ‘I’ve been with loads of people, not just him. I’ve done it voluntarily and it’s always been good. So good. But it was with him too, whenever he wasn’t hitting me or just ramming it in without any kind of preparation.’

  Oh god.

  I really wasn’t comfortable talking about sex. Not even hearing about it. It made my skin crawl—but that might have been because he was talking about his stepfather raping him, too.

  ‘Sounds like you’ve had too much of it,’ I said instead. I couldn’t give him any kind of advice. I hadn’t had sex with anyone, and I had no interest in having it either. ‘Isn’t it nice to, I don’t know, not have to get naked and intimate with someone for a change?’

  ‘But I’m wanted then. For a little while, they only want me. They don’t care about my scars or my personality, as long as they can fuck me. I want to be wanted.’

  I closed my eyes for a brief second, trying to gather my thoughts.

  ‘This is nice isn’t it? Just lying like this?’

  ‘Yeah?’ He didn’t understand where I was going with it.

  ‘This is intimacy too. Of a more innocent kind, perhaps, but still intimacy. I haven’t ever done this with anyone else. Only you.’

  ‘Really?’ He turned his head so he could look at me. His chin dug into my shoulder, but it was more ticklish than painful. His eyes were still red and sore, but they were dry now.

  ‘Yeah. I don’t… like people much.’

  His eyes widened even more.

  ‘But you like me?’

  ‘I do.’ I finally met his eyes head on. He was so close to me. ‘It’s only been a few days since we met, but I like looking at you, and I like being around you even if your mood swings a lot, and I liked it when you kissed me.’

  I wasn’t used to talking about my feelings either, though I was more used to it thanks to therapy than the sex-talk. Something I really didn’t want to bring back as a subject.

  ‘I can’t help it. My moods. One wrong word and I explode. I don’t even know how to explain it, but my mind’s like a complete mess of emotions that changes in the blink of an eye. It’s exhausting.’

  I couldn’t even imagine what it must be like to be him. I was pretty much aloof in all things. My mood was relatively stable, keeping to the same wavelength most of the time. To switch back and forth like he did…

  Yeah, I could imagine it would be exhausting.

  ‘He only got eight years in prison.’ Josh put his head back down on my shoulder. His index finger made small circles on my stomach. ‘At least ten years of abuse, though probably longer, because he’s been coming into my room for as long as I can remember… and he only gets eight years. He’s ruined me and in less than a decade he’ll be out on the streets again.’

  I tightened my arm around him at the sudden need to protect him. He didn’t need protection anymore though, at least not from that bastard, but the need was churning inside me anyway.

  He did need someone, however, someone he could be close to. And that could be me.

  ‘Where was your mother in all of this? When I spoke to her, she sounded really worried.’

  His finger stuttered to a halt.

  ‘My mum? When did you chat with her?’

  ‘Earlier. I tried your phone multiple times and eventually she answered it. She was worried, you know. I texted her to say you’re fine and that you’ll be staying here for the night.’

  The circles started up again. It was actually quite nice, relaxing even.

  ‘She doesn’t want me there.’

  ‘I think she does.’

  ‘She wants to ship me off to Bristol. She hates me.’

  ‘I think she just worries. Maybe she doesn’t know what to do to make you feel better? I’m sure she didn’t mean anything bad by it. She was probably just thinking about what was best for you.’

  I could be speaking complete bullocks. I didn’t know her, after all. But she had sounded worried
on the phone, and it was hard to fake that, wasn’t it?

  Josh was silent.

  I hoped what I was saying was sinking in.

  Minutes ticked by and I was getting sleepy. Having him resting against me was something I wasn’t used to, but he was warm and those circles he traced on my stomach was relaxing.

  I dozed off.

  ‘You’re right,’ he said eventually. ‘This is nice.’

  ‘Mm. Sure is.’

  I’d never thought I’d say that, that I’d like cuddling with another person, but I did. I liked cuddling with him.

  7

  Friends & Family

  Josh

  The next morning Damian took me out to breakfast at the Café he worked at.

  For once in my life, I felt rested and I knew it had everything to do with sleeping close to him for the entire night.

  Like he’d said, and like I’d agreed to, it truly had been nice. Nice to be so close to someone without anything else being expected. Nice to feel calm and collected for a few hours, and to get a proper night’s sleep without being plagued by nightmares.

  A light-haired bloke set our plates down in front of us.

  ‘Enjoy your meal.’

  He had a northern accent and I remembered him briefly from the other day I’d been in here.

  ‘Thanks.’

  I kept my eyes on my plate, afraid that if I glanced around, I would fade out again like I had last time. Just because of some random man who had looked a bit like Andrew from behind.

  I’d bought a club sandwich. It looked good, and it was a lot of food on one plate. I wasn’t sure I would be able to finish it, but I would try.

  ‘How long have you worked here?’ I looked up at Damian. He was safe to look at. He was someone I liked to look at.

  ‘A little over two years. I got the job the summer I was sixteen.’

  ‘So you’re eighteen now?’ I was falling hard and fast for him and I didn’t even know his age. I didn’t even know his last name, for that matter.

  ‘I’ll be nineteen in January.’

  I hitched my eyebrows up in surprise.

  ‘So will I. When’s you birthday?’

  ‘The third. Yours?’

  ‘Twenty-third. Our birthdays are only twenty days apart.’ I didn’t know why it pleased me, but it did.

  Damian had already started in on his own sandwich. He seemed to be comfortable, content, calm. I wasn’t used to anyone being like that around me. My family walked around on eggshells, afraid to set me off, and they were the only other people I knew.