Like Never Before

As a child, Ella never really had nightmares. Her sleep was either filled with pleasant dreams or with nothing at all. Nightmares only came around whenever she was foolish enough to watch a scary movie, but seeing as to how that rarely happened, she almost never had nightmares. But ever since the shooting, her sleep had been plagued with them. There wasn’t a night when she didn’t wake up, drenched in sweat and with her heart pounding so violently that she swore it was going to give out soon. There were nights when the nightmares weren’t so bad. Those were the nights when she’d just wake up and then go back to sleep, to a dreamless slumber.

Then there were other nights, nights when every single time she closed her eyes, she envisioned herself being shot again. There was no break from the cruelty of the shooting. On those nights, she swore she felt the bullets piercing her flesh and drawing her blood. The pain was so real that tears sprung from her dark brown eyes and she was left a blubbering mess that would spent the rest of the night sobbing. She hated those nights, hated the fact that even though she saw a therapist twice a week, the nightmares still plagued her. After a year of regular therapy, she wanted to be cured of the memory, but although she could get through the day without thinking about it, she couldn’t make it through the night. And when she woke up, weeping into her pillow, she cursed James’ name and slid out of bed, careful not to wake up Evan whom ended up falling asleep in her room.

She moved through the house as quietly as she could, careful not to make any unnecessary noise as she journeyed to the backyard. She didn’t want to wake anyone up. Dealing with their inquiries wasn’t something she wanted to do. She was tired of people asking if she was alright. They meant well, she knew that, but whenever someone asked her that, she had to actively stop herself from flipping them off. The damn question was one Ella was tired of. Everyone always asked it. And they didn’t even ask it at the right time. They’d ask her when she was in front of everyone. It was a halfhearted inquiry that they knew she couldn’t respond negatively to. So she told them she was fine, that everything was alright.

But she wasn’t. She really wanted to be fine. To just be another twenty year old college student that had a summer job, but James had taken her sense of normality from her and left her with a trauma that she was forced to cope with on an everyday basis. Most days, she thought she did a good job coping with it, at least on paper she did. She had a high grade point average, was involved in a few organizations and had friends that loved dearly. On paper, she was ideal. But in person, whenever she was absolutely certain that no one was around to look at her, she allowed herself to feel like a failure and let her desperation take over.

This wasn’t the way she’d imagined her life being at twenty. She was supposed to be happy, not a little happy but really fucking happy with the way things were going. And she was supposed to really love who she was. But she didn’t. She didn’t like who she saw in the mirror, because whenever her eyes peered into the mirror, they landed on her mutilated arm and scarred collar area. She was disgusted with herself and it didn’t matter how many times people told her that she was still beautiful, that nothing had changed. She would never believe them. She thought she was ugly, some sort of creature that had crawled out of the sewers, but she would never tell her loved ones about how she felt. She’d put them through enough. This thought, this conflict with herself was strictly reserved for her and her current therapist, as well as the new therapist she was set to see in London.

She’d protested against seeing a therapist in London, but her older sister had gotten into contact with their health insurance provider and filled out the proper paperwork to have Ella get treatment while abroad. She was lucky to have such a loving and supportive family. What she would’ve done without them, she didn’t know, but what she did know was that she really wanted to get back to being who she was. They deserved to get the old Ella back. The one that smiled because she thought being alive was worth smiling about. Not the one that smiled to keep others from worrying over her.

And she hoped that studying abroad in London would help bring her back. She’d be far from Venice, far from James and the block on which she’d been shot. She hoped that the distance would help her recovery process. Her therapist also seemed to share the same view. He told her that she’d confronted the town, the person, but now she needed to go off somewhere to breathe and to be somewhere where people wouldn’t remind her of everything that had happened. She needed time to detach from home. And London would be perfect. There, the only person that would know about what had gone down was Evan and he didn’t constantly pester her by asking if she was fine. He knew when to ask. He knew when to give her space.

When she reached the backyard, she took a seat on the wicker rocking chair. Her cheeks were stained with the fallen tears, her eyes red from crying. The cool breeze blowing from the ocean acted like an embrace that wanted desperately to tell her that everything would be alright. That things happen for a reason and after all was said and done, she’d be happier than she had ever been in her life. But the breeze could not get its message across to the young brunette. All it could do was blow the scent of the ocean to her. Her eyes closed at the feel of the breeze. She inhaled deeply, relishing in the smell of the ocean. It was one of her favorite smells, one that was only rivaled by the smell after rain. And so she sat there in silence, breathing in, breathing out, until hours later, she somehow ended up passing out in the wicker rocker.

It was a half past seven when she woke. Her mother had gotten out of bed to let their Chihuahuas out of the house for their morning playtime, and when the Chihuahuas saw her, they took off in a sprint towards her, jumping onto her lap and playfully licking at her neck. She woke with a start, completely forgetting where she was. Her shock passed the moment the moment she saw her Chihuahuas.

“What are you guys doing?” she asked them, softly. “Shouldn’t you be inside with mom?”

“No,” replied Margaret on behalf of the Chihuahuas. “It’s time for them to do their morning routine.” She walked towards her, taking slow steps. “But what are you doing out here? If you felt like sleeping outside, you should’ve gone off to the casita.” Casita was what they referred to the tree house as.

Ella looked up at her mother. “I didn’t mean to sleep out here, just sort of happened.”

“Well, at least you had a sweater on.” Margaret smiled warmly. “Don’t want you catching a cold. Not with your flight tonight. I wouldn’t be able to fuss over you.”

Ella unsure of what to say opted to smile.

“So are you excited? Stupid question, of course you are.” Margaret spoke. “Remember the first time I went to London, absolutely loved it. Had never thought such a place could exist. Was so different from home, almost thought it was magical.”

“Is it really that rad?” her eyes sparkled with curiosity.

“Oh it’s probably more rad now than it was then. It has its undesirable parts, but then again, all major cities do. But overall it’s just fantastic and I know you’ll have an amazing time. The anglophile in you is going to go wild, but try to be sensible with the boys.” Margaret took a seat beside Ella.

“Mom!” she exclaimed, her face flushing with color.

“Oh don’t act like you’re not thinking about that. I know you. I know how that mind of yours works.”

“Can we not have this conversation?” groaned Ella.

“What’s wrong with this conversation? All I'm saying is that you’re young and that you . . . you have a profound appreciation for British men and that you need to . . . How can I put this? You need to limit yourself. Yes. That’s it. Limit yourself! That’s all. There’s nothing wrong with a mother telling her child to limit themselves. Nothing wrong at all,” she repeated.

“If I say I’ll limit myself, will you drop it?”

“Mm, yes, I will.”

“Then I’ll limit myself.”

Margaret smiled triumphantly. “So have you finished your packing? The flight might not be until later, but you need to have everything ready to go. Don’t want you leaving anything important behind.”

“It’s all done. Finished last night and Evan double checked to make sure everything on my list was packed.”

“He’s a very nice boy that Evan.”

Ella nodded in agreement. “He is. He’s amazing and just great. You know? He’s just a really good person.”

“That’s why I feel comfortable with you going over there.” Margaret’s voice softened. “Knowing that you’ll be living with him makes this easier.”

“I’ll be back before you know it. And we’re gonna Skype so it’ll be like I'm not really gone.”

Skype wasn’t good enough for Margaret. She had spent months living in Berkeley with Ella. She had attended lectures with her, taken notes and typed the papers that Ella dictated. In short, she had grown closer to her daughter than she’d been since the drama with James began and having to part with her for ten months was going to be very hard on her. She just wanted to have her at home, but Margaret understood that Ella had to leave. Being away from Venice, away from all of them would be good for her. She’d hopefully be able to completely move on from the shooting. And that was all Margaret really wanted.

A little while later, Margaret went back inside the house, leaving Ella alone with her thoughts. The young brunette sat in silence, her dark brown eyes focused intently on the garden that stretched out before her. It was filled with an assortment of fruit trees and flowers. At one point there had been sunflowers all along the back fence. They had been her favorites and it was among them that she often napped, but on one occasion, when she was particularly drunk and violent, she tore them out from the soil and threw them into the trash can. The event was never spoken of, at least not when Ella was around. Her family acted like the sunflowers had just vanished overnight, when in reality they had watched from their windows as she cursed and grabbed at them. They had seen it unfold, but no one stopped her. Everyone just sort of figured that it was something Ella needed to do. Ever since then, they’d forgotten her love of sunflowers and had replanted the area with some herbs.

The herbs weren’t as beautiful as the sunflowers had been. They didn’t decorate the space as well as the majestic flowers had, but the good thing about the herbs was that they didn’t make her think of James. They didn’t remind her of his marriage proposal or of her near death experience. All they reminded her of was the delicious, inoffensive roast beef stew that her mother made. She stood there for a few more minutes, until finally abandoning her place on the rocker so she could walk inside the house and help her mother make breakfast for everyone. Her mother was barely getting started on the waffles, when Ella walked in.

“Hey ma, do you need help with anything?” asked Ella.

Margaret looked over her right shoulder. “You can peel the potatoes for me, if you like.”

“Want me to cut them up afterwards or use the grater?”

“Do half with the grater and chop the other half up. Your aunt’s kids love hash browns, but you know your papa, he refuses to eat hash browns, thinks they’re an insult to potatoes.”

“What’s an insult?” asked her brother from his place in the doorway, his dark brown hair an unruly mess.

“Hash browns.” Margaret answered.

“We, talking about dad?” he asked.

Ella nodded.

“He’s the only person I know that doesn’t like hash browns. Hash browns are delicious, especially with ketchup and some Tapatio . . . mmm.” Leo patted his stomach. “Bet you’re gonna miss mom’s cooking when you’re out there. Just remember, I’ll be here, munching on delicious food and you’ll be over there, eating food that’s nowhere near as epic as mom’s.”

A potato was thrown at his gut. “Keep running your mouth and the next one’s gonna hit that mug of yours.”

“Ella!” bellowed Margaret. “Be nice to your brother.”

“So violent,” Leo muttered as he picked up the potato. “But I’ll forgive you.” He walked over to Ella and set down the potato on the counter. “Need some help, mom?”

“If you want, you can help Ella with the potatoes. I’ve got everything else under control.” Margaret replied.

“Alright,” Leo walked over to the sink and washed his hands, when he finished, he cupped a bit of water in his right hand and threw it at Ella’s face. “There. You look way better.”

“Just wait, I’ll get you back,” Ella threatened, a smile flickering across her lips.

He picked up one of the peeled potatoes and started grating it. “Right Ella, right.” The grated potato fell into a large plate. “So you finish packing yet?”

“Yeah, I finished up last night. Just have to put my makeup away later, but everything’s packed.”

“Surprised you didn’t wait till the last minute. Was expecting you to be upstairs right now,” he commented.

Ella smiled sheepishly. “Was planning on doing that, but Evan reminded me that if I forgot anything, you guys wouldn’t be able to just drive up to take it to me. So we packed everything and he made sure that everything on the list was packed.”

“You made a list?” he didn’t believe her, his sister wasn’t the sort that made list.

“Technically, Evan made the list. I just told him the general things I’d need.”

He nodded in understanding.

“Leo,” interjected their mother. “There’s no more milk. Can you run to the store to grab two gallons?” she pulled a twenty dollar bill from her pocket. “And here’s a twenty so you can pay. Oh. That reminds me! Would you mind bringing some chorizo? I need some. Not a lot. Just a pound so I can make the beans for later on.”

“So you just want two gallons of milk and chorizo?”

Margaret nodded.

“Do you want the extra spicy chorizo or the one that’s milder?”

“Get half mild chorizo and the other half spicy. That way I can mix it and your aunt won’t complain about it being to hot. Oh! And since you’re over there, bring some tortillas. Not old ones, I want fresh ones from the lady that’s making them. Here’s some more money. Mm, that should do.” Margaret placed another twenty in his hand. “Make sure to be careful while you’re driving. And don’t even think about checking your phone while you’re driving. You’ll get into an accident like that woman on the news did.”

He snickered softly to himself. His mother was always freaking out about something that she’d either seen on the news or heard about from her friends. It was odd to say, but his mother’s fussing was one of the things he liked. It was a favorite among him and his siblings, even if they did complain about it from time to time. With his money in hand, he pecked his mother’s cheek before bolting out the room, leaving Margaret and Ella to finish up breakfast. Margaret continued working on the waffles and Ella focused on the potatoes. Neither spoke much. They were too focused on finishing up what they were doing, because it was only a matter of time before people started wandering into the adjoining dining room, where they’d sit down at the table, expecting to be fed. Ella wasn’t looking forward to washing up after ten people. It may have been her last day in California, but she was still expected to help clean up and since she’s in charge of the kitchen and bathrooms, she was going to be very busy.

And sure enough, after breakfast had been finished, she was left with a sink that was piled high with plates and a stove that needed to be scrubbed before cooking for her going away party, could be underway. She figured that she’d scrub the stove first. That way they could cook, while she washed the dishes. Scrubbing the stove didn’t take very long, Evan helped out with the actual scrubbing, all Ella did, was wipe up when he finished. Now that the stove was clean, they redirected their attention to the plates. Ella acted as washer. Evan was the drier and after he finished drying them, he stacked them into neat piles and put them into the cupboards that Ella motioned towards.

“What now?” Evan asked after they finished cleaning up.

Ella pursed her lips together. “Hmm . . . we can go out back and set up.”

“Right, set up. Should we ask your mum for the outline?”

“What outline?”

“For the tables and chairs,” he explained.

“Oh! That. Well, we don’t have outlines. We just put the tables wherever we think the shade will be. And if we end up fucking up, we move the tables over. But if you really need one, I guess I can make an outline for you,” she teased.

Evan held back a smile. “I’ll manage.”

“Will you?”

“Yes, yes.” Evan wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Now are you going to keep teasing me or are we going to go be productive?”

“Why not both?” she rested her head against his chest.

“Because I was hoping to have a lovely morning,” he flashed her, a toothy smile.

Ella pinched him right below the nipple and took off walking. “Are you coming or what?” she shouted from the doorway.

Roughly twenty minutes later, the pair had finished setting up the tables and chairs, and had even gone as far as to put on the tablecloths. Satisfied with the way the backyard look, they retreated to her bedroom where they then piled their luggage next to the door and changed into their traveling clothes. In eight hours time, they were going to be going through security at the Los Angeles International Airport. Their year abroad had finally arrived. All that separated them from London was a tearful goodbye and an eleven hour flight.