Look After You (12 page)

It wasn’t long after my seventeenth birthday that I began to make my escape plan. I applied to the only colleges in the region that were as physically far away from Florida as possible. Washington. I didn’t particularly care which college I applied to, I just applied to every college in the Washington State, desperate to get away from the only place that haunted every one of my nightmares.

Money wasn’t a problem for me, with my escape plans. My mother came from an extremely wealthy family. My brother, sister and I were given a generous allowance every single month, along with a credit card each with a limit of fifty thousand dollars. Unlike my warm and loving father, whom I loved whole-heartedly, my mother was a cold-hearted bitch. She didn’t care for her children; she had maids and a nanny to do her mothering shit for her. All she was to us was a home provider and an ATM.

During my senior year, I saved up every penny of my allowance in a separate bank account, with a different bank to cover any tracks that could link me to my new life in Washington. Once my acceptance letters started rolling in, I decided to keep it simple, and I just went with the first acceptance letter that I received. I don
’t think I had ever been so happy until I opened that first letter that read, ‘I am pleased to inform you that you have been accepted for admission to the University of Seattle for the fall semester 2003’. This one letter represented one thing I was desperate for. Freedom.

By the time graduation came around, I had been almost ecstatic. That in a matter of few hours I would finally be out of this shit hole that made up my childhood home. I had everything organized. My accommodation was arranged; an apartment just off the campus of the university. My flight was leaving early the following day in Birmingham, Alabama
. Instead of catching a flight in Miami or any other airport around the Florida vicinity, where I could have easily been tracked, I decided to rent a hertz car from Miami airport, drive the eleven hours to Alabama and catch a flight from there.

I left Miami, with one suitcase packed with basic necessities, clothing, precious pictures of my father and sister, and a teddy bear my father gave me when I was little. I also had my passport, my boarding passes and a bankcard with two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.
 I left, not once regretting my decision to leave. All I was left with was guilt, the guilt of leaving without saying goodbye to my sister and that hurt tremendously. I didn’t want to leave her, but three years I had to endure that bastard’s pain, three years and I couldn’t do it anymore. I had contemplated taking her with me, to take her away from this hellhole called life, but it was one thing for me to disappear from the face of the earth, it was another thing to be responsible for the abduction of my twelve-year-old sister. Instead I left a small pink love heart post-it note on her desk in her bedroom, saying, ‘
I love you, I’m sorry, Ava x
’ before I left for the last time. I just hoped she knew how sorry I was. I hope she still does.

After two months of being in Seattle, I finally met Caleb. I smile at the thought.

Miraculously it
’s a hot sunny day in the midst of the August month. For the two months I’ve been here, I have come to one conclusion; that it rains, a lot. It isn’t like the scattered showers in the humid summer heat of Florida, where it rains for an hour and then stops. Here in Seattle, when it rains, it is constant. For the first time, in my entire life, I have had to invest in a waterproof coat and an umbrella. On the plus side, the temperature has kept in the steady eighties, so at least I didn’t have to purchase a whole new wardrobe. It’s the winter where I definitely need to re-evaluate my wardrobe choice.

Today, however, is a beautiful day. The sun is shining, the heat is blazing, and like the majority of the students at Seattle University, I welcome the last of the summer spell as I walk across the school gardens, my aviators on and an iced coffee in hand as I look around the various extra curriculum stands during orientation
.
The school grounds are crowded with freshmen, and that is quite possibly why I don’t see the huge jock running towards me trying to catch a football until he slams against me, knocking me off my feet and spilling my entire iced coffee over me.

The stranger immediately pushes himself from on top of me, apologizing profoundly
.
“Holy shit, are you okay? I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you!” I am in a slight daze as I look up at him. It takes me a moment to realize what happened because it literally happened in the blink of an eye. Then I feel downright humiliated as my ass starts to throb from the sudden fall. Son of a bitch, that hurts.

“What do you think?” I feel a little woozy as I stand up, but I manage to stand on both feet without any aid. Then I stumble backwards, and I think I might fall back down, but the stranger’s arms manage to catch me just in time.

“Whoa, careful.” He helps me over to a wooden bench that is close by and sits me on it. He runs off to grab a bottle of water and is back within seconds. He sits down beside me, holding out the bottle of water for me, the top already unscrewed. I snatch it from him and bring it to my mouth. Then I panic. What if he put something in it?

“You haven’t spiked it have you?”

He chuckles at the seriousness of my question and shakes his head. “No, you’re safe.” I take this as a perfectly acceptable answer and take a drink, almost gulping the entire bottle in one. “I’m not really into that kind of thing, but even if I were, you wouldn’t have to worry about a thing, you’re not my type.” I gape at the ‘not my type’ comment. What the hell does he mean by that? It’s safe to say I get angry.

“First of all, you knock me down, spill my drink down me, and now you say I
’m not very pretty, gee thanks. This is a great welcome committee that’s for sure.” I take another drink, noting the confusion on his face, and then he laughs hysterically.

“It isn’t because you’re not pretty, you
’re quite the opposite actually; I’m gay.”

“Oh…” I smirk, feeling a little shocked. I certainly am not his type
.
“You don’t look gay.” Oh crap, I wasn’t supposed to say that out loud. I feel the heat cover every inch of my face, embarrassment deepening as I drain the rest of my water. He chuckles nevertheless.

“What do you want, rainbows and fairies? Sorry to disappoint you
, gorgeous, but I like football, not handbags.” I can’t help but laugh at that. I suppose that was a very naïve thing of me to say, but the only gay references I have all come from television and they are all seem extremely camp. I have never met anybody who is openly gay before.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that…I just meant-”

“I’m just messing with you, don’t worry about it.”

“So what you’re telling me is that you were messing with me when you said you were gay, that, in actuality, you are straight and that you may have actually spiked my drink?”

His eyes widen in shock and I have to hold back my laughter. “No, I am gay, I swear…I…um,” he begins to stammer, his face paling at my accusation. I can’t keep it inside of me any longer, and just burst out into hysterical laughter.

“I’m messing with you,” I say through my laughter.

His eyes brighten at my confession, smiling at me in affection.
“I like you, you’re funny.” I overhear somebody shout over to my new friend, something about getting his ass back over there and finishing the game of football.

“I better get back over to them. How are you feeling now, you good?”

“Nothing that a hemorrhoid cushion won’t fix.”

“Again, I am really sorry about that. Let me take you out to dinner tonight, to make it up to you. What do you say, my treat? I’ll even bring the cushion,” he says with a smirk. It would be nice to go out. I haven’t made any friends since I moved to Seattle and I think it
’s about time I started to live my new life.

“Yeah, that sounds like fun.”

“Okay, great. There’s a bar just out of campus called Shelly’s Tavern. Their food is pretty awesome. You want to meet me there about seven?”

I nod as he stands up. “Yeah, okay.”

“Oh, and I’m Caleb, by the way.”

“I’m Ava,” I say
 with a smile.

“Well
, Ava, I will see your pretty little face later. Again I’m really sorry I nearly gave you a concussion and ruined your shirt.”

I glance down at my coffee covered white tee, and shrug. Luckily for him, I don’t really care about my appearance
.
“No problem, I have other shirts.”

He waves and jogs back to his friends.

When I meet him later on that evening, I am pleasantly surprised to find how much we have in common. We have the same ridiculous taste in television programs, the same sarcastic sense of humor and a bizarre fixation for anything with ketchup. There’s a constant flow of conversation, he introduces me to a few of his friends, makes me feel welcome but most importantly, he makes me laugh, and laughter isn’t something I have heard come out from my mouth for years. For the first time since I was a child, I feel a piece of my heart gradually healing back into place, and I have Caleb to thank for that.

I have only known him for approximately six hours, but already I have fallen in love with him. Plus, he isn’t exactly bad to look at either. I
’m starting to feel Seattle was definitely the right choice for me.

I glance up to my best friend, smiling at him as the water from the shower continues to fall over us. I honestly wouldn’t know what I would do without him.

“Thank you.”

He seems surprised by my words. “Thank you for what?”

“Just for being you. Since the moment I met you, you have always been there for me. Just by knowing you, it changed my world completely.
”

He smiles at me
as he places a tender kiss on my forehead.
“I will always be there for you, Ava, no matter what. Hoes before bros and all.”

Laughter bubbles from me, remembering what he used to say to me back in college. We stuck together like a team, and we continue doing so now
.
“I love you, Caleb.”

“I love you too. Now, are we ever going to get out of this shower, because if you haven’t already realized, I am only in a towel.”

With the dream pushed aside for the meantime, I move from his lap, standing up on both feet, reaching over to turn the shower off by the switch. With a smirk, I jump out of the bath, eyeing up his towel as he stands up. “Not anymore you’re not.” I suddenly remove the drenched towel from around his waist, and I playfully slap it against his bare ass.

“Ava!” he shouts in humored alarm.

Taking the towel with me, I head out of the bathroom into my bedroom to dry off and get dressed for a day at the hospital with my Lily-Mai.

Before I head back into
 the bathroom to dry my hair, I check my text messages, and I smile when I notice a message from the early hours of this morning. It’s from Sebastian. From the moment Sebastian arrived on his base in Afghanistan, eleven days ago; he sends me a text whenever he can with a count down. I just wish the countdown didn’t sound like a life sentence.

Sebastian
:
Only 119 days until I come home. I love you. X

Chapter 11

I stir from my sleep as I feel the bed dip from behind my fetal position. Even in my sleepy unconscious state, I can feel the heat from his body pressed up against my back, the feel of something hard pushing up against me. I squirm uncomfortably, edging away from him, my brain screaming for him to get the hell off me, to get the hell away from me, but even in the dark haze of my thoughts I know I can’t do a damn thing to stop him. I feel chills cover my body as the warm bed sheets are peeled away from me and replaced with something else, less comforting. I feel myself waking with sheer terror, my dream state mind slowly fading away, waking into my reality. I screw my eyes tight shut, and pray that the darkness will take over, to engulf all of my senses as deep as possible, so I don’t have to be a witness to my own unwanted torture. An evil tingle spreads through my body like wildfire as a whisper is pressed against my ear, a touch pressed against my crotch. “I’ve missed you.”

A single tear that rolls down
my face only confirms my fears; sleep isn’t going to take me away. Hell, I would easily take death if I could escape the inevitable. His touch turns aggressive as he rips my pajama bottoms and panties off in one. Then without any warning he slams into me, an agonizing burn spears inside of me causing an inaudible scream to escape from me…

Suddenly my bedroom isn’t my bedroom anymore. Instead, I am in my bathroom back in Miami. A strange heat soars through my veins as I feel a cold sweat covering my half naked body. My panties have been discarded, leaving me in my own bloody discharge. I try to stand, but I double over in pain, collapsing against the tiled floor, my hands clawing at the edge of the bathtub. A scream strains from my throat as I glance down, noticing blood gushing dramatically from me, something pushing from the inside of me, trying to escape. I feel with my hand, and my heart drops when I realize it’s a head, a bloody head stretching me, ripping me apart. HELP. Help…help…please. I hear my name in the distance, and as I turn around, I see Sebastian running towards me. I feel immediately happy, and the pain suddenly stops…

Everything magically disappears, and suddenly the bathroom isn’t my bathroom anymore but a scorching hot desert instead. He continues to run at me, stomping footprints in the sand. Then he screams as he continues his race towards me, but he doesn’t get any closer, he seems to move further away. Then the screams become louder and more urgent as an Afghan soldier dressed in a khaki uniform comes into view, a camouflage shemagh head scarf covering his head and face, only revealing black haunted eyes. The blood curdling words, “Ava, run!” echo through the lifeless desert, the urgency in his voice alerting me to this new danger. Then the sounds of deafening gunshots pierce through my eardrums as angry bullets hit Sebastian’s chest, over and over again until the light goes off in those beautiful eyes of his, and his limp body crashes heavily on top of the grainy sand. I run to him as screams erupt from my mouth but death catches up with me when I hear another loud gunshot and something sharp and excruciating hits directly over my heart, darkness clouding my vision…

Screaming wakes me from my nightmare, and I shoot straight up from the bed, my heart thrashing against the inside of my chest, sweat drenched through to my tangled sheets. Fuck. I glance around my darkened surroundings, taking deep inhaling breaths as I hear the sound of heavy footsteps rush through my apartment and directly to my bedroom. The light from the hallway suddenly illuminates my room when the door opens, revealing a concerned Caleb.

“Ava?” He strides over to my bed and crawls over to me, enveloping his arms around me. I welcome his comforting arms while my nightmare still swirls around in my mind.

“Another dream, sweetheart?” I nod as he swipes a piece of hair that is stuck to my cheek with a cold sweat. “Gosh you’re drenched, Ava, this isn’t healthy, this is the fifth night in a row that you have woken up screaming. Maybe we need to get you some help.” Ever since my first nightmare five nights ago, they haven’t stopped, and each night they continue to grow worse, and even more bizarre. They always start off with
him
, and they gradually morph into my worst nightmares and undeniable fears. Tonight’s nightmare was even more terrifying than usual. Not just because the dream was so menacing, but because it held too much truth than I am willing to admit.

“When am I supposed to get help? Huh, when? I spend all my time at the hospital. I haven’t got time to be talking to a stranger for an hour at a time about how fucking screwed up I am,” I snap, shifting my body away from his, unwrapping myself from the wet tangled sheets. Standing up from the left side of the bed, I walk over to the window, and I can feel myself calming slightly as my eyes focus on the
early morning city of Seattle in the distance.

I feel Caleb’s presence from behind as I continue looking at the scene, my fingers lingering against the cool glass as I watch the light rain fall.
“You’re not screwed up, Ava, you’ve just had a lot of shit to deal with.”

“Yep, I’m pretty much the definition of screwed up.”

I hear him sigh behind me.
“Do you want to talk about it, your dream?”

“No.” I just want to forget about it. I don’t want to have to go into the depths of my screwed up mind, to explain the reasoning behind my fears. Honestly, I don’t think I could explain it even if I really wanted to. That dream was so screwed up that it would take a lot more than a few psychologists to help fix me up.
“I just want to forget about it.” Even as I say the words out loud, I know there is no way the lifelike visions of my dreams are ever going to go away, especially when they keep repeating in my head on playback.

“Okay, if that’s what you want. You should try and get some sleep.”

As I watch the fine rain continue to fall, I have the sudden urge to be in it.
“No, I’m going for a run instead; the rain looks refreshing.” I go over to the wardrobe, looking for my running leggings and sneakers.

“Running? It’s two AM, Ava,” He says half alarmed, half bemused.

“And?” I question as I continue to search through the closet until I finally reach for my leggings and roughly drag them off the hanger.

“And, it’s October, and it’s raining, and you’re going to freeze to death. Plus, I am pretty sure you shouldn
’t be running in your condition.”

I start to undress from my sweat soaked pajama bottoms and replace them with my leggings
. “Exactly, it’s perfect weather for a run to help clear my head, and I’ll be fine.” I pull my pajama top off from my body, replacing it with a sports bra and an old band t-shirt. Once I have my sneakers on, I head over to the bedside table and retrieve my old pink iPod shuffle.

“Well, give me a
second and I’ll come with you.”

I shake my head as I clip the shuffle to the bottom of my t-shirt, and then place the earphones in each ear.
“No, I want to be alone Caleb.” Then I turn and head out of my bedroom. I snatch my keys from the small table beside the front door, and I jog out of my apartment.

I turn my iPod on, and the sounds of Papa Roach’s Last Resort blast through my ears and once I am outside in the cold Seattle rain, I run at full speed, not having a
destination in mind, just endurance and adrenaline. The song choice seems quite fitting, so I allow the music to take over my senses, the anger from the lyrics soaring through my veins as I continue to run, allowing the screwed up lyrics to push me to the brink. I have this one song on a constant loop as I try and sort through my own shit, heavily propelling one foot in front of the other, desperately moving forward, urgently running through the streets of Seattle, trying to push the disturbing images of my haunted dreams out of my head. As I continue running to the beat of the metallic drums and the loud guitar riffs, my visions become more extreme and five days worth of dreams come at me all at once.

Unwelcome hands touching
…

Screaming...

Sobbing uncontrollably...

Babies crying...

Gunshots...

Sebastian dying...

Lily-Mai struggling for breath...

My brother…

I lose all concept of time, and I don’t know how long I have been running for but by the time I return to my apartment, I’m exhausted. I launch myself through the main doors of my apartment complex, not even slowing my running pace as I make my way up the stairs, practically crashing into my front door, once I reach the eighth floor. The moment I stop running I hunch over gasping for air, gripping tightly against the door knob as I start to hyperventilate, struggling to catch my breath, my heart thrashing recklessly inside my chest. Every muscle in my body burns excruciatingly and I begin to seize up, cramp tightening against my hamstrings and thighs. My cesarean scar is throbbing, and I feel nauseous. I try to fit the key inside the lock, but I struggle to find the keyhole as dizziness takes over.

I weakly slam my hand against the wooden door to alert Caleb of my presence as I try to catch my breath. With every second that passes I feel extremely lethargic and the urge to vomit is becoming prominent. My head throbs with an oncoming migraine, and my soaked body begins to shake violently. I can feel bile begin to rise up my chest, my heart racing as it reaches my throat and the moment Caleb opens the door, I lose all the contents of my stomach all over his bare feet, up the door and down myself.

“Ava!”

I wipe my mouth with my trembling fingers as he reaches for me, cradles me in his a
rms, carries me into the low-lit living room, gently sitting me down on the sofa. He reaches over for the blanket that is draped over the back of the sofa and covers my shivering, vomit-covered body.

“Jesus, Ava, yo
u’re fucking soaked,” he says just before he rushes into the kitchen. I can hear echoed sounds of ice falling into a glass from the ice dispenser and the sound of water running from the faucet. Within seconds he bounds back into the living room with a large glass of iced water, while I shiver uncontrollably under the blanket, my heart continuing to beat erratically against my chest. I am suddenly very aware of how dry my mouth feels and how unbelievably thirsty I am. As soon as he brings the glass to my mouth I eagerly gulp down the refreshing water, enjoying how easily it glides down my throat, quenching my thirst. Once I have finished the entire glass of water, he places the glass on the coffee table before sitting down beside me, pushing the wet hair away from my eyes, giving me the, ‘I can’t believe you’ look.

“Are you trying to kill yourself?” Tightening the blanket around me, I shake my head as tears begin to fill up my eyes.
“Then what was that?” He points his head into the direction of the door, indicating my melt down.

I shrug
my shoulders as I feel a single tear glide down my cheek.
“I just wanted to clear my head.”

With a sad loo
k, he pulls my shivering body onto his lap, rubbing me down with both hands, helping me get warmed up. “And running yourself to the brink of exhaustion and dehydration was the way to do that?” I don’t answer him, I just snuggle myself into the warmth of his neck, squeezing tight against the inside of my blanket, holding it up to my chin.
“Did it work?”

“No,” I mumble quietly into his neck, feeling the hysterical tears begin to cascade down my face. I just want to forget about
him
, forget about my dreams, forget about everything but even running, the only therapeutic thing I had going for me, the only thing that worked to help cope with my demons, has finally stopped working for me. Running used to calm me. When things would get too much I would grab my sneakers and run for miles, allowing the tranquility of my surroundings to captivate my inner thoughts. The heavy thoughts and the bad demons would float away, always allowing me to forget how shitty my life was, at least for a little while anyway. Now it seems that I can no longer forget. I feel as if I am beyond repair.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” I sigh frustratingly as shivers pass through my body, my fingertips numbing with the chill of my wet clothes.

Caleb presses me closer to his chest continuing to rub me down with his warm hands.
“Nothing, baby girl. You’re just going through a lot. And plus, you miss Sebastian too.” I smile sadly at the thought of him. I wish I could hear his voice right now. I just want him to tell me everything will be okay and that he loves me. I miss him so much, my heart physically hurts and knowing that it will be another one hundred and fourteen days until I get to feel him in my arms again, kills me.

“I wish Sebastian was here. I miss him so much,” I choke on a sob, clinging to the blanket like a life jacket as I break down for the millionth time in the past six weeks. God...I don’t know how much more of this shit I can cope with.

~
~ ~ ~ ~

Once Caleb has dropped me off at the hospital, I give him a sad wave as he drives off. I cover my mouth with an exhausted yawn as I make my way inside. After this early morning’s breakdown and lack of sleep, I am practically a walking zombie. I look and feel dreadful. My head and heart are still pounding from dehydration, and no matter how much water I consume, it doesn’t make me feel any better. I almost wish I could have stayed within the walls of my apartment, crying myself into a miserable sleep, but I know I can’t wallow in my own self-pity, I have my daughter to think of, and she is literally the reason why I got out of bed this morning. She needs me, and I am no use to her if I’m not here for her.