Page 85 of Margot
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
SUTTON
I was ready to defend him like he was my father. I was ready to denounce any suggestion that Jonathan DuBois hurt me as a child. It was wrong.
He was responsible for teaching me how to harness my talent. He was the one who gave me something to put my pain and love into when my parents couldn’t have cared less. I barely even acknowledged my parents but Mr. DuBois? I spoke of him with pride and reverence.
The moment I opened my mouth to defend him, my brain…it glitched or something. I sat transfixed as if I were staring at an old TV but the only thing that played were fuzzy memories trying to break through the static.
I could hear the metronome in Mr. DuBois’ house. I could smell the cologne he wore and the way it clung to his blue sweater. I felt his big hands over my tiny ones. Then they moved somewhereelse.
My stomach twisted in a knot that seemed impossible to untie. I tried to shut the door on those images but they kept coming like a flood.
Margot.
She was showing me.
Even when I shut my eyes, I couldn’t get away from the images and the feelings. The feeling of a mouth far too old kissing my body in ways that it shouldn’t have. The feeling of shame and fear. So much fear.
“Stop it!” I shouted, pressing the heels of my hands against my temples. Lennox’s copper eyes jerked over to mine and in an instant, he was in front of me, kneeling and wrapping his arms around me.
The door in my mind slammed shut and the TV went dead.
Everything was quiet in my mind. I didn’t realize how noisy it had been until it was silent.
Lennox tipped my chin up and looked into my eyes. “What happened, Sutton?” He asked quietly.
“I saw things,” I sniffled. “I don’t want to see anymore. I don’t want to remember those things. I-I can’t handle that right now.”
“You have to handle it at some point. Not all at once and not right now but it’s definitely something you have to work towards.” He kissed my forehead and I wanted to sink into him. I wanted him to comfort me the same way he comforted Margot. I could still feel the way Lennox made love to me if I focused on the good feelings. Not the ones of disgust running through my mind after being shown a glimpse of my own memories.
“I know but I still can’t wrap my mind around the fact that Mr. DuBois did those things.” I tried not to cry because someone who could be so despicable didn’t deserve my tears.
Knowing that didn’t erase the pain though.
I felt like I was in a ship bound to capsize and I had no way to save myself. So, I did the only thing I could think of to do. I clung to Lennox. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on for dear life.
Lennox’s arms turned to bands of iron around my middle and he held me like he knew. He knew I was drowning but he wouldn’t let me.
We stayed like that for a long time.
When I was strong enough to separate from him, I pulled in a deep breath. My fingers ached to play the piano. I wanted to press my fingertips against the cool keys and pound out my frustration. I wanted to rage angrily in all kinds of flat and sharp notes. I wanted to disrupt the overwhelming confusion and heartache I couldn’t seem to escape. My stupid finger wouldn’t let me though. I had to face this without the piano as a crutch.
“I’m going to start on dinner. You can hang out in here if you want or you can come with me.” Lennox leaned his tall, chocolate frame against the doorway and looked at me. His eyes were the only light in my whole world.
“I’m gonna write back to Margot,” I told him, sliding back on the bed. He nodded then left me in the bedroom alone.
The journal we now shared was simple and white with a gold spiral running down the spine. I found my ink pen and began writing to the other person inside of my head. The one who’d been protecting me my entire life.
The one who thought I hated her. Maybe in a sense, I did. Maybe I hated myself so much that I had to create another persona just to deal with it.
I pressed the tip of my pen to the paper and wrote. I wrote in sloppy handwriting until my middle finger ached. Maybe I could write with my left hand too since Margot could do it. I tried and failed miserably. I wasn’t shocked though. From all my research on DID, I found out that alters can have skill sets totally separate from their host.
God, alter and host sounded so…stiff.
I’d written those words several times to describe Margot and I and I saw why she thought I hated her. I was rigid. I was cold. I was scared to really dive in.
Was that how I treated Lennox too?
