Page 40 of Cuts Like An Angel: Part 3

But every time he tried, his mind latched onto the grime and screamed at him for the chaos it could see.

“Please. Stay there.”

“We can clean it up. Look …” She went to the counter where the cups were and began to stack them into the dishwasher, but every time one clattered the another, it sent rods of sharp pain through his head. Sounds, leaping across every nerve in his body and making his skin tingle.

“They’re all dirty … all of them.” He clenched his fists at his sides and took in a deep breath, trying to focus on that, to feel the way his chest expanded, the way his ribcage rose. But the dirt was everywhere. All over, and Rosie was touching it. Every cupboard needed to be emptied, every drawer. Every surface, every shelf needed cleaning. “I just …”

Rosie wiped her hands on the kitchen towel and took a tentative step towards him. He was conscious of her eyes on him, the way she ached for him, and the way she manoeuvred herself across the minefield. She must have seen something in his expression, because instead of coming to him, she went to the cupboard where he had stood not moments ago. She took out a mug, and another, and another. “I don’t understand,” she said. “If you loaded it last night, and I didn’t …” She cast her eyes towards the door and William knew what she was thinking.

“I …” He went to speak, to defend his mother who couldn’t have come out of her room and done this. His thoughts petered off like they belonged to someone else. He could see Rosie coming nearer again. “Stay there.” Before she could listen, or get too close to him, he darted past her tub and out of the kitchen.

He was meaning to go up the stairs and to their room, but he spied his jacket hanging on the coat rack and pulled it off. He grabbed a sweater off the radiator by the front door. His boots were by the door, and he had no socks but that was fine.

“Where are you going?” Rosie asked as she came out after him.

“I just … I can’t.” He took in deep shaky breaths, his face flushing. She’d never understand, not this, not any of it. “I need air. I need to go and think and just get out of here.”

“We can clean it up. Wash the pots and pans.”

He shook his head. “I … it all needs cleaning. All of it.” He went to step to her, and then stopped, clenched hands in front of his face. “I know you don’t understand. I have to take everything out. I have to clean it all now.” The whole house was like a bubble of mud he was drowning in, and if he didn’t leave, if he didn’t get outside, the dirt would get inside him. It would infect every part of his body. “I need air. I just need to get some air.”

“Please, William. We can …” She searched frantically for the right word and he could see the strain in her face, the panic in her eyes, and he was sorry for that. His heart ached for what she was feeling, but he couldn’t stay in the house. Not in there and think like he needed to. “We can go outside and sit in the garden if that’s what you need. Me and you, together.”

“I need to go. I just need to go somewhere.” He pulled the jacket over his sweater. He needed to be away from his mother, away from Rosie, away from himself in so many ways. But mostly, he needed to go before he lost control of himself and said something to Rosie that would hurt her … hurt her maybe the same way he’d hurt his mother. “I’ll be back,” he barely managed to say. “Okay. I’ll be back. I’ll be okay. I’m not going …” Hurt himself was what he wanted to say, but his mouth closed on the words, not wanting to give her the idea in case she hadn’t thought of it. “I’m sorry.” He grabbed his helmet and dashed out the door without bothering to fasten his jacket.

“William …” she chased after him, but she had no shoes on and the ground was icy. She only made it to the door, but he made it to his bike, and despite feeling the desperate presence of her there, he had to leave. He had to just get away from the house to somewhere where his mind could relax, and he could give all of this the perspective it needed.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. He rolled the bike out onto the road, took one last look at Rosie as she huddled herself up. “I’ll be back. I’ll be okay.” He snapped down his visor and then he was gone.

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