All Grown Up

Ian had called Harry. And I didn't know what to do. This whole situation was new to me. Here I was, a big depressed, blubbering mess and Harry had drove all the way here to be by my side. I'd never had a boyfriend. I'd never had anyone be there for me when I needed them. I'd never had anyone to cry around.

I had been on my own for all my life. Sure my parents were there, but they didn't know what exactly I was going through. They just thought I was this perfect little girl who had a perfect little life and perfect little friends. I never had any of that. Around them, I put up a front, but when I was alone in my room, I let it all out. That was why I spent most of my time by myself in my room. It was where I felt most comfortable and at ease. It was my safe haven.

"Ana?" A soft rap sounded from my door. I didn't answer. I simply sat on the window bench seat cuddled up with my blankets and stared out at the big pasture in the backyard. "Ana, will you please open your door?"

Again, I didn't answer. A dull thud came from the door. I can just picture him with his forehead resting against the door and a frustrated sigh falling from his lips. I wanted to be by myself in my safe haven. Could he not understand that? Were his stupid, gorgeous curls blocking his brain from working or something? I hadn't spoken to him since we got back to the house. I had holed myself up in my room.

"Please, Ana," he begged. He sounded so pathetic. "I just want to be there for you."

It took a few minutes, but my brain finally processed that I needed to speak. My mouth followed my brains rules and opened. "It's unlocked."

The old knob twisted slowly, then the door creaked open. I didn't look away from the window though. The door closed and his heavy footsteps could be heard padding across the hardwood floor. He took a seat across from me, leaning back against the wall mimicking me.

It was quiet. God was it quiet. It hadn't been this quiet in the house since my parents died. It bothered me, but I made no move to speak. I had nothing to say. I didn't know what to say.

"Do you want to—" He cut himself off, looking deep in thought. "Can we talk? About what happened two weeks ago at your flat?"

I shrugged. "Nothing to talk about," I muttered.

He sighed loudly. "Yes there is," he said. "You have scars on your wrists. Those don't just happen on accident."

Again, I shrugged. "It happens."

"No it doesn't, Ana. Shit like that doesn't just happen!" He exclaimed. He was getting mad now. He had no right to be mad. "What the bloody hell was going through your mind when you did that? What made you do that?"

He really didn't know? How could he not know? A scoff fell from my mouth. I finally tore my gaze away from the window and moved it over to him. "You," I said simply.

That stopped him. His face was frozen. He looked like he didn't know what to do or say. Which was a viable excuse. It should leave him speechless. He was the main reason behind it all. And he needed to know that. His normally tan skin, was a pasty white now. He looked as if he'd seen a ghost.

"Nobody wants you to be here. Why don't you go kill yourself like your mum and dad did."

"Oh look, it's the stupid slag."

"Hey you slag!"

I chuckled darkly. "You're the reason for these scars." I hastily pushed the blanket away and pulled my jumper sleeves up. "You are the reason I did this," I stated. Standing up, I lifted up my joggers. The pink scars stood out against my pale skin. There were a handful on each of my thighs. No obvious pattern, just scattered around. "And you are the reason I did this."

His eyes were dark. His mouth was in a tight line. His face was pale. He really had seen a ghost. The ghosts of our pasts. "Why'd you do it?" I questioned. My eyes were burning with tears and my throat was tightening up.

He didn't say anything. Not a peep was heard out of him. Just like the night on the bridge. He didn't know. He had to have had a reason to say all those hurtful things to me. I mean, he didn't even know me. None of them did. With a scoff, I rolled my eyes and said, "I'm going to sleep. Could you please get out?"


Sometimes I feel like if I open my mouth I'll start speaking nonsense. I'll start admitting things that no one should know. I only wish for everyone to know my secrets, for everyone to know all the monsters that year within my insides, crawling out wishing to escape. Maybe if they knew, they would understand, maybe they would care. Those days when I feel like I can't contain anything inside me. I sleep. I sleep so I won't say something that most will never fully comprehend. I sleep to escape into a thoughtless world where they're still alive, where he isn't the reason behind my life falling apart. I wish to scream, "I am here and I am not alone." But some days that is all I fear. I fear of being alone, I fear of never finding someone to stay around and appreciate every ounce of my being. I fear for never finding love. I just wish I could leave the big city and live out here in the woods with the one I love. No problems, no money issues, no work, just love holding us together like the trees that will surround us.

This was where I wanted to spend the rest of my life. Out here away from everyone and everything. My own little piece of heaven. Cheshire was where my parents grew up and where they raised me. I wanted to raise my kids here. I wanted to start a family here. I wanted to live here. I wanted to grow old here. I wanted to die here.

"I feel like I need to be singing old American country folk music," I mumbled to myself. "With a banjo."

The stick I had in my hand poked at the damp ground. The log I was sitting on had moss on it and was slightly damp, but I didn't mind. Out here I had no worries, no anxiety. It was just me and the wild animals. I had opted to ride Snowflake out to the edge of the pasture fence and then hop over so I could explore. I'd done it many times before, so I knew my way around the woods. I did bring my phone just in case. And a mini umbrella. It was shoved in the deep pockets of my coat.

I was jolted out of my peace and tranquility by my phone ringing.

Running through the heat heart beat
You shine like silver in the sunlight
You light up my whole heart
It feels like in the sun, the sun
We're running around and around—

"'Ello?" I answered.

"Why is it, that whenever something happens with you, I'm the one that always gets a phone call?"

So he was talking to me again? "Why do you answer if you know it's going to be about me?" I questioned. "You want nothing to do with me, remember?"

He sighed loudly, and I can just picture him running his hand through his hair. "I believe I had good reason to not want anything to do with you."

My eyes rolled involuntarily. "Then why are you calling me, Ian?"

"Because Harry called me and was freaking out because you were gone before he got up this morning. He said you weren't answering you phone and it's now...mid afternoon." Had I really been gone that long? "And just because I don't want anything to do with you doesn't mean I don't still worry about you."

Now it was my turn to sigh. "It doesn't matter anymore, Ian. You made it clear you don't want anything to do with me. I'm doing my part and staying away from you."

"Ana, will you just stop it for a second! Jesus! I'm trying to be civil with you!"

Shaking my head, I kicked a pebble with my Wellies. "Like I said, it doesn't matter. I'm doing just fine without you."

He let out a guttural growl. I scoffed. He wanted me to leave him alone, yet here he was, pestering me like we were still best mates. "Did you tell him? That he's the reason behind all the scars on your body? Because if you don't, I will."

"Bloody hell, yes! I told him, okay! I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself. I don't know why you guys are freaking out that I've been gone all day. I'm fucking fine." I was getting mad now. But I had every right to be.

He was quiet for a minute, and so was I. "Maybe because we know that anything could send you over the edge and cause you to hurt yourself again," he replied softly. I hated that he knew me so well. Harry too. I hadn't even talked to Harry long enough for him to know this about me. He hadn't known about it long enough to know that about me. But he did. And that scared me.

Being that close to the person who caused me all that pain and suffering scared the living hell out of me.

"Now go back to your cottage and talk to him," he said. "I know you're out somewhere that's peaceful to you, but just go back and give him peace of mind. He needs to know that you're okay."

But I didn't want to. I liked it out here. "But I don't wanna," I whined like a child.

He chuckled. I hadn't heard that in a while. "I know you don't, but do it for him; for both of us. Just remember this, what lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us."

"Did you just quote Henry Stanley Haskins to me?"

"Dammit, I was hoping you didn't catch that. But yes I did." We both laughed. "But seriously, what I'm trying to say by quoting him is, your character is far more important than your past or your future; it’s who you are that matters, not what you’ve done or will do. That applies to both of you. So go forgive him. You did it before, why not do it again?"

I grinned. "Thanks Ian," I mumbled. "I love you, Godzilla."

"Love you too, Shrimp. Now go get your man! I'm sick of him calling me!" And with that said, he hung up. I stuffed my phone in my pocket and jumped up. It took me all of thirty minutes to make it back to the cottage. I didn't want to rush it, so me and Snowflake had a leisurely walk back to the house. By the time I got back there, there was a light but steady drizzle outside. As soon as I stepped inside I toed off my Wellies, slipped off my coat and beanie, and followed the sound of Harry's deep, drawn out voice.

"But I—" He cut himself off. "I have to go, Lou. Bye." We both stood in the living room just staring at each other for the longest time. His eyes flickered down to my covered wrists and thighs a few times. I squirmed under his hard stare. "I'm sorry," we both blurted out.

Hi eyebrows furrowed. "Why are you sorry?"

I shrugged. "I was being a major twat, and I apologize."

"But you had every right to be," he explained. "You don't have to apologize to me. I'm the one that needs to be apologizing. I put you through so much pain and suffering for ages. I'm sorry, babe. I'm so fucking sorry."

Shuffling towards his tall frame, I wrapped my arms around him as tight as I could. My face was buried in his chest as my fingers weaved themselves in the curls at the nape of his neck. "I forgive you."

"What?" He asked, his hot breath sending chills down my neck and back. Lifting my head up, I stared up into his green irises. "I forgive you," I murmured. Rolling onto my tip toes, I placed a small kiss on the underside of his jaw. That caused him to let out a happy sigh.

"You don't know how happy that makes me," he mumbled. "Thank you."