The Way You Are - 2008

The sound of the almost quiet engine was slightly comforting.
We drove through the streets and I watched the buildings, trees, houses and shops go by. He was quiet, and focused on the wheel. fiery hazel eyes fixed on the road.

I wanted to rest my head on the window for a moment, it was pounding. I felt so confused, mixed up, worried, almost not caring where I was going- but I knew that he was taking me home.

The one place that I would never want to go.

I lifted my head again, trying not to rest.
Trying to stay awake and politely and silently appreciate what he was doing for me.
I felt some kind of weird connection back at the cafe, and although he was still a stranger, he offered some kind of comfort and warmth to me.

Finally we slowed up at a red light.
"So, what do you do?"

I looked over at him, my memory went blank for a moment, as I wondered why he asked that question, and then I came to some kind of realization that he was just trying to make conversation.

"I work in a little shop close to where I live."
I said, stuttering a little bit. All I did was stack cans and sell stuff. It didn't pay a very high amount, but it was all I needed to maintain the life that I had.
I could put some food on the table, and pay a few bills.

"Alright, cool. So do you live on your own, or..."
"I live by myself."
I said, almost thoughtlessly, apart from that one tiny bit of guilt tapping at the thresholds of my conscious mind. I shouldn't lie. Lies are bad.

"Really.."
He sounded surprised. I was looking away from him now, but he continued to look at me,
I brushed the hair out of my face and he frowned at me.
"Oh my goodness."

.."Wh..what?"

That's when I noticed that he had seen the huge bruise on one side of my face.
The bruise that was a result of conflict, and perhaps abuse.
I wasn't planning for him to see it, but now it was too late.
He lifted his eyebrows, and then frowned again, looking closer at it.
"Oh my God... that looks pretty nasty. How did that happen??"

"It was.. I just... had an accident."

he realized there was panic in my voice. We slowed up again and he turned the volume of the very low music to zero.

"Are you sure? you should talk to someone if there's something wrong. It looks pretty bad"
He said, staring at me intensely, concern in his eyes.

I turned away from him again, an overwhelming rush taking over.
I began to cry once more as I thought about everything.

He sighed, shook his head for a second and then looked at me
"You know, if it makes you feel any better you can come to my place for a while, and I'll take you home later?"
He sounded shy, awkward, and he was trying to put it in the best words he could. But he was some sweet kind stranger,
I was a grubby desperate victim of a crime...

"...Or I can take you straight home."
He said quickly, after a a pause.

"I want to go to yours."
I said. I looked into his eyes and I saw the same feelings.
I saw someone who, even though clearly was a stranger, cared. -Perhaps he saw something special inside of me too.
That same kind of light that drew me towards him.

"Let me take you to mine. If you want someone to talk to then I'm here... skye."
He smiled at me, those eyes... they made me feel beautiful.
He put out his hand, and I shakily placed mine in his, and he shook it gently.

We continued driving through town to his place.
The sky was beginning to darken, and everything rushed past the window as lights, sounds and colours.
Finally we slowed up at his place.
It was in a neat block of flats on the other side of town. They looked a bit modern on the outside, and certainly looked bigger than the place where I lived.
I looked at the building for a while, scanning all the windows, the white painted outer walls, the main door to the block, and the slightly overgrown grass outside.
There was a sign at the side of the building that said
'SEVEN HOUSE'

He turned to look at me
"You okay?" He said.

"Yeah." I said, breathing out, becoming relaxed.
My eyes welled up again. I didn't know whether is was the fact that I was about to go into the house of a complete stranger, or that whatever time and day I got home, there would be a severe beating waiting for me.
Punches.
Kicks.
pinches.
Yelling.
Beer cans thrown at me.
If it's a special occasion, maybe cigar burns.

"Hey, hey, don't cry like that. You look like you need a drink and some T.V.
howabout it?"
He said, trying to be as friendly as he could. I knew that secretly he felt so awkward.
I did too, but I also felt so desperate.
It sounds stupid now, but him stepping into my life just seemed too Good to be true.

"Is there anything you need to talk about?"
He said, in a very soft voice, almost like he didn't even want to speak but his moral conscience was bothering him and he felt that to try and comfort would be the right thing.

I looked at him. So much anger, self pity, self hate, and hatred in myself.
"I didn't get the bruise in an accident."

I said.
He gave me this slightly shocked look, but narrowed his eyes as if to say he already knew the truth about my secret.