Ophelia (Love & Loss #1) Page 2

  “I have to go inside,” I said and she simply nodded.

  Inside, the house smelled as if every inch had been sprayed with an aromatic disinfectant. It was too much, too heavy. Most of the furniture was missing. I remember how destroyed everything had been in the living room. I walked to my room and all of my things were gone, as I had asked. I didn’t know where I was going to live, but I knew that I was going to need everything I had in my room.

  “Are you okay?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know how I feel.”

  “Do you want to stay or...?”

  “Hold on.” I walked in my parents’ bedroom. It was empty, clean and the walls were covered with new paint. It broke my heart and I couldn’t hold the tears any more. Their little nest had been destroyed without pity and transformed into something that didn’t represent them at all. Any sign of the massacre had been hidden behind those freshly painted walls.

  “Come here.” Beverly waited for me with open arms. “You are going to get through it, Ophelia, I know you will.”

  I hugged her with all my strength, I missed being hugged. Any human touch had been barely possible during my stay at Kingsboro. Beverly’s love and friendship were all I had and needed.

  “I'm done here.”

  We walked out of the repaired door for the last time. My heart ached and my soul felt lost. My family was a thing of the past. It hurt and saddened me, but there was nothing I could do about it. My only option was to try and make the best of my life. Josie would have been proud of me for even thinking about having a good life.

  Beverly's parents were waiting by the door and they welcomed me with open arms. They were the closest thing I had to a family and I was happy to spend a short weekend with them. I had to be at the center by eleven in the morning on Sunday. Staying there had to be the best option for me. They offered the support I so desperately needed, and I had to give it a try before living on my own.

  “Would you like to eat something? I made lasagna with extra cheese.” My favorite.

  I wasn't hungry but I couldn’t deny her lasagna and I knew she'd made it only for me, to please me and probably to make sure I ate something. She knew me too well. It was delicious and I felt better after eating my second plate. Right after dinner, I called it a night. It was barely seven, but I was tired and needed a good night of sleep without any doctors checking up on me. In the past two months, I had survived on four hours of sleep a night, I needed to catch up.

  I woke up before sunrise. Quietly, I tiptoed down the stairs to watch from their living room window as the sun came up. A simple thing to enjoy, and I cherished the peaceful moment. The coming months were probably not going to offer me any privacy. I was about to live with a pack of strangers and the idea didn’t please me one bit. I could have demanded to be emancipated, but I clearly couldn’t take care of myself. Even though the idea repulsed me, I believed the center would offer me the support I required.

  “Up early?” Beverly wasn't a morning person. It surprised me to see her down the stairs.

  “Yeah, you too.”

  She shrugged. “We only have one day together, so I might as well make it worthwhile.” She yawned. “Hungry?”

  “Not really.”

  She looked at me, eyeing my waist even though it was hiding under an oversize hoodie. “You have lost at least ten pounds since...”

  “Yeah, I know.” I cut her off, not wanting to be reminded that my parents were dead.

  “Sorry.”

  “I know.” This conversation was about to turn awkward and I hated it.

  “Are you up for a big glass of chocolate milk?” She winked at me.

  She knew how to get to me. “Yes, sounds good.”

  I got up and walked to the kitchen. Chocolate milk was the one thing I needed on a daily basis, like a drug. Our fridge at home was always full.

  I sat at the lunch counter and she handed me the biggest glass she owned and smiled like the goofball that she was. There was probably half a litre in there. We both laughed as if we were little kids again. I almost peed my pants. It had been so long since I’d laughed so much.

  “What do you want to do today?”

  I shrugged. “I think I'm going to get a tattoo and I need new pants. Mine are too big now.”

  Beverly looked at me, twirling her curly blonde hair around her finger. “That’s all?”

  I nodded.

  “Why a tattoo?” she asked.

  I was never the type of girl who liked tattoos but I wanted something inked on me for my parents. It seemed like the one thing I would never regret. “Kind of like a commemoration.”

  “How are you going to do that? You’re not even 18.” She was right, I was under the legal age to get a tattoo.

  “Who am I going to ask to for permission? I’m by myself now.” I hated that.

  “Right! We'll go together.” She whispered as if she wanted to hide it from her parents.

  ... O...

  We finally got to the tattoo parlour. My sweaty palms were making me doubt myself, but I wanted to do this, now. I wiped my hands on my pants and entered the shop. I looked around the place, noticing that they had a couple design frames on the wall, but nothing fancy.

  “Hey, can I help you, miss?” A tall man came up from the back of the shop. He was fit with a big neck tattoo that caught my eyes. He was probably in his mid-forties but he dressed up like a young man. He looked us over from head to toe, probably trying to gauge what kind of customer we were.

  I nodded. “Yes, I’m here to get a tattoo, a cross on the back of my neck.”

  “Okay, do you have the design or do you want me to draw something real quick for you?’’

  “I don’t want anything special. Just a black cross, straight lines. That’s all.”

  He nodded and sat at his drawing table. I could see him working on it, making sure the lines were perfectly straight. “Is that size okay?” He handed me the little piece of paper with the design.

  “Yep, it’s all good.”

  “Are you eighteen?” Fuck! Beverly was right. I looked at her. She was sitting on the old couch by the entrance of the shop.

  I bit the inside of my cheek. I had to do this. “Almost.”

  “Well, I won’t be able to get it done today, miss, unless one of your parents is present.”

  I chuckled without humor, I expected him to say exactly that. “Do you watch the news, sir?”

  He frowned, confused as to why I would ask him that. “Yeah... why?”

  “Did you see the story about two months ago where a couple was murdered in their home and found by their daughter?” I actually had no clue if this had made the news but I had to try.

  “Yeah, a little punk killed them both, part of a gang initiation...”

  “Stop!” I urged him. “I don’t need details. They were my parents, so I’m sorry, but they won’t be able to come here. I got cash though. Your choice.”

  He eyed me, thinking. “Alright, alright. Get your ass over here.”

  “Thanks.” I said, pulling my hair up in a bun, and then joined him on the empty chair.

  “Are you doing okay?”

  I hated when people asked me that question. Did they really expect me to say yes? “As good as can be expected.”

  “All I can say to you is to remain strong and don’t be too hard on yourself. Every day is a new day, that’s how I roll. There’s way too much shit going on in this world anyway. Surround yourself with the people you love and ask for help when you need it.” The tattooed man gave me the best advice he could think of, squeezing my shoulder in a comforting manner. I would never have expected it from him but I took his advice, I mean, my life was beyond ruined at this point. It was the lowest low of my existence and like my therapist said, it can only go back up if I put my mind into it. Slow progress was the key.

  Beverly walked to us and she sat on the free chair by the artist’s station. “This going to be nice, Lia. Can’t wait to see it done.” I
motioned to her to hold my hand. As much as I was trying to be strong and stable, I wasn’t. I was a crumbling brick wall, but I hoped that I could still be patched up.

  Getting a tattoo hurt, but the pain felt good. I marked my skin permanently in memory of my lost ones. I didn’t know if I was going to get more than this one, but I was very excited about getting it. Beverly insisted on taking a picture with her cellphone before Bruce, the artist, covered it in plastic wrap to protect it. He gave me a lotion that I was going to need to apply on the tattoo for a couple of days and few instructions on the healing process. I nodded and mentally noted everything he said. Piece of cake, I thought.

  We walked back in the car. Although I felt the pain, the burn on my skin, it didn’t make my heart feel better. Maybe it will help me cope. I thought I would feel like I had them both with me, but I still felt so freaking helpless. My eyes were getting teary and a sob escaped my mouth as Bev was getting ready to drive us to the mall.

  “Beverly, I’m all alone, I... I... can’t do this.” Ruining her day wasn’t my intention but I needed to talk about it. I couldn’t keep it all inside or it would have slowly killed me.

  She took my hands in hers. “You are not alone, I'm here, and I’ll always be here.”

  She was right, our friendship meant everything to us and I knew we would still be friends sixty years from now. “I know, I just want my parents back. I miss them.”

  I saw the sadness in her eyes as she looked at me. “I feel so helpless. There’s nothing I can say that’ll make this situation better.”

  “Nothing will make this better, Bev. This is my own little hell that I have to go through.”

  Her hand patted my shoulder, and her love made me feel better. “I'm with you, Ophelia, okay?”

  I was tired of crying all the time, it was exhausting. I hid my face behind my hands and took a couple of deep breaths. I needed to be strong, I needed to focus on the good things I had in my life. I remembered the piece of paper tucked in the pocket of my jeans. In therapy, Josie had asked me to write what I believed was good in my life on a sticky note pad. It was one of our last sessions together and I've been keeping it on me since then. Every time I needed a reminder, I unfolded my little note and read my very short list.

  My piano career

  Beverly

  I'm healthy.

  It wasn't much but it was what I had. I smiled as I read it repeatedly. I felt better. The folded paper returned in my pocket.

  “Where do you want to go now?”

  “Shopping, I need a few things for tomorrow. I don’t know how it's gonna be over there.”

  Time was flying and I was getting more anxious about the following day. If I kept to myself, I figured things would go smoothly. My therapy sessions were scheduled to continue on a daily basis, and that made me feel more secure. They truly helped me. I could talk about everything that bothered me, saddened me or any worries I had about my future. No matter how much I hated it, I was on my own and there were plenty of things I wouldn’t be able to figure out how to do without my mom or my dad by my side. All my life my dad took care of my piano journey. I had no clue what he had been working on at the moment. I took another deep breath and tried to blank my mind to start over. One step at a time, I had to keep reminding myself. Anyway, I was in no state to give a concert.

  “Lia, are you coming?” Beverly asked climbing out of the car.

  What? We were at the mall already. Damn, had I blanked out or what?

  I got out of the car and felt a little dizzy. I took a couple of seconds to steady myself and met her on the other side of the car. Shopping was something that I had often done with Beverly, and our mothers. All the memories I had around town were driving me nuts. I was seeing my mom everywhere and missing her even more.

  “I... I don’t think I'll be able to come back here after, Bev.”

  She turned around, obviously wondering what the hell I'm talking about. “Do you mind explaining?”

  “When I turn eighteen, and I’m out of the center, I won’t be staying in Brooklyn. I need to go away, find a place of my own with no memories attached.”

  I saw her bottom lip quiver. “O... Okay, we'll figure this out.”

  We had never spent a day without seeing each other unless I was away for a concert. Living in another state wasn't to be taken lightly and I didn’t think being away from her was going to be possible. I shook off the thought again. The future would tell me how to deal with this. I still had a long way to go before I was ready to move.

  “Let's focus on getting you some clothes now, okay?”

  “Yeah.” I faked a smile. I didn’t really feel like shopping but I had to do it. I had lost a lot of weight and my pants were falling down. I only had one store to go to find everything that I needed. Although my mind wanted to head back to her place, my heart felt like trying to give Beverly a good time to thank her for being there for me. We deserved to have a nice afternoon even though I wasn't really in the mood. I was happy for the moment, but there was this huge hole in my soul that kept reminding me I had lost the most important people in my life.

  We shopped for most of the afternoon before returning to her house. I had laundry to do and I wanted to enjoy my last hours with my best friend.

  “I'll miss you. Miss your crazy red hair, your laugh and your smile. I want you to promise that you'll call me if there is something wrong over there, okay? I want to be there for you even if we're physically apart.”

  I smiled at her words. She was the best. “Thank you, Beverly.” I hugged her tight. “I will, I promise.”

  We spent the remainder of the day talking. I did most of the chatting. She mainly listened to my new reality and she tried to help me as best as she could.

  “Here, I want you to have this until I return from the center.” I removed my necklace, a white gold chain with a music note pendant. It was the first time in 7 years that I wasn’t going to wear it. It was the one thing I always kept with me, day and night, even in the shower.

  “Are you sure?” she asked, knowing the meaning of this necklace. My parents had given it to me the night I was awarded the Youth Musician of the Year Award. It was the beginning of my career and I vowed never to stop playing after that.

  “I'm sure.” I really was. I wanted her to have a piece of me with her.

  As soon as I gave her my necklace, she put it on and looked at herself in the mirror. “I can't believe you’re letting me wear it. I've never seen you without it.” She smiled. “I want you to have this, my bracelet.”

  She removed it and handed it to me. It was her grandmother's bracelet. I knew that it meant a lot to her.

  “We’re all set now.” I laughed. “I don’t want this day to end though.”

  She patted my shoulder reassuringly. “You'll do fine, Ophelia, you were always good with meeting new people.”

  “Right.” She had a point, but this time, my heart was all mixed up in a whirlwind of emotions. Meeting new people meant more people to grieve over when my time at the center was over. My broken heart couldn’t bear to get attached to new people, it had suffered enough already.

  ... O ...

  Saying my goodbye to Beverly was heartbreaking. I knew it was only a matter of a couple of months before we could hang out again, but it was still going to be hard. She was all I had left. I unfolded my sticky note and I read carefully my very short list.

  Breathe, breathe, breathe, it's all going to be fine, I kept repeating in my head as I walked inside what was going to be my home for a little while.

  Chapter TWO

  ***

  Haunted by the past.

  Each of my dreams relive the pain, the loss.

  My eyes are hiding in a storm, blinded by memories.

  ***

  Here I was sitting in the corner of the communal room wanting only one thing, to be left alone. I had no friends here and it was perfect that way. Most of the other residents were here at their parents’ request. Some of them wer
e a little more than rebels defying every rule, and some were here because their parents were too stoned or drunk to raise them. I was brought up in a good family, and I liked to follow the rules, most of the time.

  “Why don't she talk to anyone? She's so weird,” I heard one of the youngest say about me. I wasn't deaf or mute, I’d simply decided to keep to myself.

  The rebellious Teo looked in my direction, and our eyes locked for a short moment. He nodded as if he wanted to salute me and I decided to look elsewhere, ignoring his tenth attempt to talk to me. ”She isn’t ready yet. She’ll probably come around soon.”

  How could he say that? I could stay silent forever. Nothing mattered in my life anymore. I was alive, but that was all. I felt numb most of the time. Playing piano was the one thing that kept me sane, and I couldn't play as much as I wanted here. My time was limited because not everybody liked music as much as I did. The fact that there was a piano here surprised me. It needed repair, but at least it worked.

  Thirty more minutes before I could start to play, I kept myself busy with some reading. That way the others wouldn’t be tempted to bother me. I tried to concentrate on the book so that I would stop looking at my watch every two minutes. Half an hour was nothing, I could get through this.

  The time had come for me to meet with my passion. Each of my fingers placed on the white keys of the old piano, I started with a piece of my own, which I called Angels. I wrote this piece while I was hospitalized. Of course, I didn't have a piano to feel and listen to my creation, but from my knowledge, I was certain it had some potential. The first time I played the song, it didn't sound so good, but after reworking a few chords, the melody I imagined was there. It flowed and it made me really proud of myself.

  The sadness and loss I felt at the hospital gave an edgy tone to the song.

  As I played, my mind returned to the last few days. My first night here had been a nightmare. I wasn’t used to living with seven other teenagers, all of whom have more problems than me. I regretted not demanding to be emancipated at that point, but I remembered that I needed a safe place for a little while. The way I felt here was not like anything I had experienced. I felt as strong as a mouse, one who was surrounded by noisy hyenas. They all wanted a piece of my life, of my secrets, but I refused to share, so that made them hungrier and desperate to know what had happened to the quiet, red-headed girl.