Page 124 of Darkest Deception

Within a couple of minutes, I am changed into black sweatpants that I had to roll a couple of times and a big t-shirt that engulfs me and makes me feel like I am small.

I walk out of the small bedroom next to the poolroom, passing the staircase to the front door. As soon as I am out, a wave of fresh air hits me.

A glittering orange sunset covers the entire sky, as if the sun was a couple of miles away from the Earth and it lit everything on fire. The tall trees are each touched with a speck of gold, and the sight reminds me of Helia’s eyes when he smiles at me.

Helia stands with his back to me with Blaze on his shoulder. He looks over at me with a small smile and nods for me to follow him.

I don’t move for a couple of minutes and watch his figure retreating into the forest, but then realise that it will get dark soon. I don’t know anything around here, and Helia is my best bet.

I could stay in the house, but somehow, being with Helia feels safer than being alone in a big glass mansion in the middle of the woods.

So I quickly catch up to him. Twigs break under our feet, and we have to push branches out of our faces, making flies and some grasshoppers taking flight. Amongst the chaos of taking a walk in the forest, a certain calmness washes over me.

It feels like I was on fire my whole life and being in Helia’s silent presence threw ice cold water on me, dimming my madness.

“I was eleven years old when I got this scar on my eye.” Helia voice travels back to me. He doesn’t turn around, and Blaze doesn’t caw either.

He’s sharing a part of himself with me today.

Why does that make me want to cry?

“Me and my sister… We were homeless for a couple of years. Our mother abandoned us, and we barely scraped by. We weren’t able to pay rent, due to us being too young to work, so we got kicked out of our house and lived inside an abandoned warehouse.”

There is not a single ounce of emotion in his voice, but when I glance at his hands, they are in his trouser pockets, clenched into fists.

“My sister used to disappear for days sometimes. Maybe one day or maybe a whole month. She used to take drugs and often passed out. I didn’t know then, but it’s not hard to put the pieces together now.”

There is a pause, leaves rustle, and a quiet chirp of a bird hits my ears.

“She brought her boyfriend back one day.”

I see him swallow and another pause follows.

“They got drunk together at the warehouse with me beside them. He saw me and decided my eyes were something to possess, something he wanted. His excuse for wanting to carve out my eye? That he gave us food and money, and that made us his possessions.”

How could a child understand how fucked up that is? How did he survive being on streets?

Just thinking about a younger Helia, bleeding, crying, and unable to go anywhere makes me want to bawl my eyes out.

“I was bleeding for days on those winter nights, feeling every burn, every ripped open skin around my eye, fearing I would lose sight in this eye, or worse, lose it altogether. It’s crazy how I never once feared for my life while being homeless, but those days were the worst. He made me feel like I was beneath him, as did every single man in London, but he also thought he had the right to do as he pleased.”

Tears well up in my eyes as I imagine Helia bleeding on the streets, his skin ripped open around his eye, fearing for his life.

Oh Lord.

“Aren’t we all slaves to our desires? Why do some feel like they have the right to act upon their sick imaginations and some don’t?” Helia stops just as the sound of water fills the silence. Like a fountain or a waterfall.

“The only difference is they think money can hide their sick mentalities,” he says quietly.

I come to a stop right next to Helia, and when I glance down, my mouth drops open with a loud gasp.

There is a waterfall to the left, a big drop to the ground, and a beautiful sunset right in front of me. A couple of birds take flight, and here, life feels simple.

Everything feels like it can be accomplished.

Reaching my hand out, I grab Helia’s hand without looking at him and give it a small squeeze before letting it go.

I can’t give him too much hope.

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