Page 11 of Your Soul Is Ours

“Yeah, soon,” I whisper. His eyes focus on mine as he leans into the doorway and presses a kiss on my forehead. He’s gone before I can process it, as much as I want his lips on mine, the battle within my head is too much to pursue.

As the weeks pass, my routine settles into a pattern of mental health clinic visits, striving for excellence at work, and enjoyable walks with Sebastian. Our conversations have become the highlight of my day, and I look forward to them. Each day is slightly better.

I’ve talked to my mother. She has apologized at least a hundred times, and although I know things won’t actuallyimprove, I let it slide for now. I’ve only taken one night with the blade against my skin to mark it. When Sebastian disappears, I fear I won't have control over how many slices I make. Holding onto my reservation so tightly has hurt my mind. The thoughts swirl too much and I realize I have to let go at least a little. He has shown me nothing but kindness, and not everyone is going to be like my family. Not everyone wants to hurt me on purpose.

Eight

Sebastian

Over the last couple weeks of hanging out, the carefree side of her that I get to see up close versus in the shadows makes me almost giddy. My love makes her feel lighter, just like I hoped it would. I wonder if my love can clear the dark from her mindand give her the life she deserves. We’re sitting on her porch. There isn’t a cloud in the sky, and although the sun shines down, the breeze brings a coldness in the air.

“Do you think we’ll ever get an intake number?” she asks me, her smile gone, and I know that I’ll have to figure out how to fix her.

“I’m not sure. Sometimes, I think that the darkness that surrounds me adds character.”

“Bullshit, that’s just what you tell yourself to feel better,” she says. Her hazel eyes dance over my face.

“Yeah, maybe, but it works. Feed the masses the fine answer, and no one will bat an eye,” I say, but she doesn’t respond. She takes the final drag off her cigarette and stubs it into the ashtray that sits on a milk crate. “Fancy furniture out here, I see.” Stubbing out my own, I look at her.

“I’m sure your house is so much better.” Her bangs fall in her face again, and she moves them.

“Nah, I got my dad’s house, retro furniture and all. Are you growing your bangs out?” She stands from the chair and disappears inside without answering my question. I follow her.

“I’m sorry, Marla, if I’m out of line, you can tell me I’m an asshole.” I’m worried I’ve overstepped. Her warm hand in mine, and countless words exchanged make me not want to go back to just watching her.

“I have trouble finding a hairdresser. It’s stupid. I’m just bad at taking care of myself.” I look down into her eyes before she glances away.

“Don’t do that, self-care is hard when you are depressed. Hell even when you’re not, it’s hard. Can I cut your hair?”

She tilts her head up to look at me. “Okay.”

“I cut my hair. I don’t know if that is reassuring or devastating to hear, but I’d love to take the pressure off your mind and help you out.” Her eyes soften, and her red lips curve into a smile.I lean against the counter as she disappears into the bathroom. Opening the patio door, I grab one of the plastic chairs and put it in the kitchen as she returns with supplies.

“Sebastian’s Hair Salon is open.” I point to the chair, and she shakes her head and hands me a pair of scissors and a brush. She holds a towel around her shoulders. “Just a trim? and tidy up the bangs?” I hope so. Her hair suits her face so perfectly.

“Yeah, that is perfect.” I brush out her hair slowly, enjoying the wafting smell of her shampoo scent, jasmine, and something I can’t place. The silence that covers us is welcome and comforting. I work slowly through cutting her hair and move to the front to work on her bangs. “Check in the mirror before you kill me.” I grin a crooked smile.

While she goes to check her hair, I see a broom and dustpan next to her fridge and clean up the floor.

“I love it. Thank you so much,” she says as she walks into the room. I turn to look at her beauty, and my breath catches in my throat. She stalks toward me and throws her arms around my neck, stretching on her tippy toes until her lips find mine. My hands go to her lower back, and I hold her against me. Feeling her fingertips run over the back of my neck sends shivers throughout my body. I deepen the kiss, and she doesn’t back away. Her body against mine is like the puzzle piece I’ve been missing. I know that I’ve made the right choice in her, all the months of watching. Every moment sacrificed for her has led me here.

The shrill sound of her cell phone breaks her away from me. Her eyes are wide when she pulls away, and her puffy lips look decadent. She picks up her phone and starts talking to the person on the other end. Her face falls, the darkness returns to her eyes, and I wish I could turn back time. I want to protect her from the world's devastating stings by wrapping her in a bubble of my love.

“Mom, I didn’t know,” her voice shrinks.

While she is on the phone, I tidy up after the dinner that we ate at the coffee table.

She hangs up the phone and looks at me, “I’m sorry. I’ve missed a lot of her calls.” Her eyes don’t meet mine.

“Let’s talk it out. I’m not leaving until I know you’re alright.”

“It's nothing serious. It’s just the way it is.” She walks over to her favourite chair, and I flop down on the one across from it.

“It’s not. People don’t get to be shitty to you over and over. I know that there is a light inside of you because I’ve seen it.”

“She said that I’m a selfish person who only cares about myself. She threw a party for my brother after he got his first promotion, but I couldn't attend. Like it matters, she pays for everything he has. I’ve gotten so many promotions, so many life events have passed by me, and she didn’t give a shit. Why do I have to care about everyone else when no one cares about me? And to top it all off, she just blames me constantly for my trauma. She abused me forever, and it’s my fault? How is that fair? How is any of this fair?” Tears fill her eyes, and my heart drops.

I move across the room quickly and kneel in front of her. I look into her eyes and lace my fingers with hers. “We could kill her,” I whisper, wanting to erase anyone who has ever hurt her.

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