Healing Hearts

For the first time in a year, Sarafire was happy. She had woken up refreshed, rested, alert, and full of an emotion she couldn’t really understand: joy. She didn’t even need her morning shower to shake away the last bits of sleep from her mind and body, but the shower made her better. She ate more than usual, which was still practically nothing, but the food tasted better and her stomach was more receiving to the meal.

Her day had a shine, a tint of hope that kept on. She found her classes interesting and her work worth the time to do. And she found herself doing something she had never done: volunteering to answer a question. She raised her hand a little beyond her head, trying hard to keep her rosy cheeks from showing. The teacher had been looking around for the usual people to call on and suddenly spotted Sarafire. The math teacher did a double take.

“Miss Sunn? Is something wrong?”

“No, I just know the answer.”

The teacher did a third look of total, unexpected and unbelievable surprise.

“You do? Then tell us Miss Sunn.”

Sarafire smiled a tiny bit to herself, feeling her ego grow with joyous pride.

“It’s 42.”

The teacher looked at the problem on the book and then at the data pad with the answers on it. Her eyebrows went up in shock.

“Well Miss Sunn, that is correct. Well done.”

The whole class turned around to look at a blushing Sarafire who suddenly wished she could disappear.

The rest of the day went much like her math class. Furthermore the day passed quickly which she was quite thankful for. She could hardly believe how good a day it was and wanted the day to hurry up before her luck and good mood ran out. She couldn’t dare to hope that luck would continue for much longer and she dreaded the moment it ended.

Even dinner matched her day. The cafeteria was serving her favorite evening meal. She did not feel quite brave enough to sit with some kids she knew, but the glow inside of her kept her company.

She retired to her room after dinner. She turned on the light and picked her way through the mess of her room to her bed, where she sat, holding her stuffed animal. She told the animal about her good day how strange she felt. She held the animal for a long time, wishing the toy could hug her back and complete the feeling inside of her. Then there was a knock on her door. She opened the door, half suspecting who she might find. Her guess was right.

“Um, hello Master Yoda.”

The green, little Jedi had a small container in his hands. She saw that he wanted to come in and moved aside. He walked through her junk and to the bed, where he put down the container and signaled for her to join him. Sarafire walked over and sat down beside to container, wondering what it was for.

“Give me your arm. Let me check on it to see if you are healing.”

She hesitantly reached her bandaged arm. She tried to tell herself that it was ok. She had not cut today and there was nothing new to hide, but she felt extremely uncomfortable letting him see the wounds again. He started to touch her wrist, but she jerked away out of a reaction she could not control. For a moment there was an awkward silence. She felt horrible. The fear, the pain, and the shame all rushed in, chasing away the wonderful mood she had been experiencing.

“Nothing to be afraid there is. I will not hurt you, I promise.”

She swallowed and took a breath. She shakily gave her arm to him. He gently held her wrist and started to unwind the bandage. Scared to see her sin, she turned her head away as the thin scars were revealed. When he was done, she peaked past her shoulder to look. There were many scars on her arm and some of the newest wounds had not completely healed. The one she had done the day before was angry and red with infection. He gently passed one claw over the cut and she hissed in pain, unconsciously jerking back.

“Healing hurts, does it not?”

“That’s not healing master, it’s infected and ouch!”

He had touched the wound one more time, inspecting it. He reached over and opened the container with one hand. A small bottle of what she recognized as healing cream floated to his awaiting hand. He took off the cap and applied some clear gel to the wound.

“Healing, but having trouble it is. It was not given proper care, so bad it went.”

He put a small sticky bandage on the gel and wound before wrapping up her entire forearm with a new white, crisp roll.

“Infected, painful, sore, and angry you are, like your wound. But gel will not fix you. There are better methods to help you.”

“Like what?”

He put back the healing cream and looked at her with a serious face.

“Talking.”

She leaned back in surprise.

“Why would talking help? No one cares what I have to say. When I try to talk, I get told off or ignore. I don’t need you yelling at me too. I gave up trying to talk a long time ago.”

There was another moment of silence. Sarafire was beginning to hate these silences. It made her feel worse. She felt like all she could do was wrong. She never could say the right thing even though it was the truth. She had tried to talk to kids her age, but they made fun of her. Teachers called on her, but she never knew the answer, so they stopped calling on her. No one wanted to hear her ideas. No one wanted her.

“Why do you expect me to yell at you?”

Again, she was taken back by this. Was it not obvious? How could he not know?

“Everyone yells at me. I’m always doing something wrong.”

“Believe them do you?”

“Well-uh yes. Why would they lie? I thought Jedi didn’t lie?”

Master Yoda had been looking around her room until now, when he looked at her, into her eyes, making her feel as though she was being looked through.

“You do.”

She opened her mouth to defend herself, but she abruptly closed it. It was true. She didn’t want to admit it, but she had no choice. Everyday was a lie to everyone. She lied about her school work, about her feelings, about her cutting, lack of eating, and many other things. It had grown to be automatic and a secret she fiercely guarded. She thought for a moment and came back with the only defence that she knew.

“It doesn’t matter if I lie. I’m not going to be a Jedi.”

For the third time in less than an hour, there was a long stretch of a silence. Her mind whirled to think of something to say to break the unbearable quietness of the small room.

“Why leave your room a mess?”

“I don’t see the point in keeping it clean. It just gets messy again. It’s just a waste of time, like me. Plus, no one ever visits me….except for you.”

“Like gardens do you?”

She wondered what gardens did have to do with messy rooms.

“Err, yes, I do.”

“Then come to the small gardens by my room tomorrow morning. Be in the dirt you will so dress accordingly.”

She slowly nodded at him, feeling very lost and confused.

“What about my classes? I can’t miss any more or I’ll fail.”

“Excused you I will. I have something more important than classes for you to do.”

She stared at him in utter shock. What could be more important than classes? What could she possibly do in a garden that would get her out of class, excused? All she had ever known was to go to classes, as miserable as they were, and force herself through boring studies, after boring studies.

She was not given much time to ponder much more. Master Yoda had gotten off her bed and taken the container with him. He crossed the room and opened the door.

“Sleep you should. Much work there is to do.”

He left, leaving Sarafire alone in her room again. She sat on her bed for sometime and then got up to get ready for bed. She turned off her lights, tucked into her bed, and fell asleep hugging her stuffed animal, hoping tomorrow would go better than the evening had.