Road to nowhere - p21

"Andi, Andi …. Where are you man?"
A bleach blond head popped up from behind the counter filled with bouquets of roses. A tall young man rose to his full heights at the sight of Bill and Christy entering the small store. He smiled and flipped the hair out of his eyes.
"Hey man! Where have you been? How was your mom?"
They hugged each other. Christy stared at the contrast of blonde and black hair. It was like the early hours of dusk when darkness started to take over the light, turning slightly gray and finally dark, pitch black with the stars above. Bill's eyes were the stars, shining brightly in the dark velvety cover of his hair and his face the pale silvery moon. Her heart leaped in her chest as she let her mind wander around.
She came back to her senses as Bill introduced his childhood friend to Christy. Like his wife, Andi did not raise his hand to shake hands with Christy either. She felt thankful for that.
Bill stood proudly in the middle of the small flower shop and looked around with so much affection.
"So, what do you think? Do you like my shop?"
"Yes, it's really beautiful. I love the scent of flowers."
She looked at the vases filled with fresh flowers, wrapping paper hanging from a wall behind the counter. The empty vases, boxes and ribbons were neatly placed on shelves, waiting to be used. Long rows of shelves on the left side of the counter displayed bonsai trees and orchid plants. They gave a mystical oriental aura to that part of the shop. Small elegant orchid flowers were placed in a row. Their flowers timidly bowed to the customers, welcoming them to the shop.
Some branches of a cherry blossom were painted on the wall, with their pink and red flowers hanging from them. The tall overall windows provided light to interior as well as showcasing the shop itself. The window was spotless. It did not smell like still water and rotten stems of flowers inside, it smelled cool and relaxing. It even looked different from the other flower shops she had seen before. There was more soul to it.
"Come and see this … Andi, do we have any especial orders?"
"You bet. We have a wedding this week."
"Really? The bride's bouquet, the centerpieces and all?"
"Yeah, but she was a hard one."
"Why?"
Andi shrugged, "she didn't know what she exactly wanted, but still she had her mind set on something. You know that I'm not as patient as you. I can't go around with the bride, show her every single flower and explain all the combinations for her. I just showed her the samples of our work and she seemed … happy! I don't know. I told her you'll call her and do the arrangements with her yourself."
"Ok, give me her number and I'll make sure our customer is happy. Christy, you should come to the wedding and help me on the delivery day."
Bill was so excited. He started walking towards the back of the shop. Christy followed him. He almost skipped to a smaller room, separated from the rest of the shop. It was used for doing flower arrangements for bigger orders. It was a cozy small place with a big isle in the middle and different tools. A big pile of fresh roses was placed on top of the isle. Two chairs were there. Bill pulled them closer to the isle and sat in one, patting the next one to encourage Christy to sit as well. She sat next to him, her bellflowers on her chest. Bill smiled.
"Do you want me to put them in water?" he asked her, "I have a lot planned for today."
Christy unwillingly handed him the flowers.
"What plans?" she asked curiously.
"Well, Tom will come and pick us up for lunch, but before that I really wanted to take you to my hairdresser's. They do nails too, you know."
Christy looked down at her hands. She instantly hid her hands between her knees at the sight of damaged fingers and chipped nail polish. She flushed.
"It's ok Christy. If you like to … we can spend some time there. You can get your nails done and I'll have mine done, too. They need to be redone."
Bill looked at his well-cared fingers. His black and white nail polish looked perfect. Christy looked a bit unsure.
"Listen, I understand that you don't like to be touched, but it's only your hands. She will just hold your hands and do the nails, besides I'll be there with you all the time."
"You will?"
"Yeah. Don't worry. They are all very cheerful and just happy-go-lucky. They're gonna make you laugh a lot."
Christy looked at her nails again.
"Can I do something else too?"
"Of course, what do you have in mind?" Bill sounded excited.
"Wanna dye my hair."
Bill lifted one eyebrow in question.
"I will pay for it." Christy added hurriedly.
Bill burst out laughing. "That's not the problem," he said, "I'm just surprised. You are so different today."
Christy sat back in her chair and pulled the hood down her head. She pulled the rubber band holding her hair up in a tight bun away. Her hair fell down her shoulders. She held it between her fingers and looked at it.
"I just want," her voice was more of a whisper, "a change. Today, I feel so happy all of a sudden."
Bill smiled and nodded.
"What colour?"
"Fiery red."
"Fiery red? You sure?"
Christy looked at Bill's jet-black hair.
"Yeah," she said, "red is good … there has been so much black in my life. I need something different."
Bill cocked his head to the side. He carefully put his words together, not willing to ruin her mood.
"You never talk about your past."
Christy stared at her hair, turning it around her finger nervously. "There is not much to talk about … there are just … holes."
"Holes?"
"I can't put it all together. It seems a big part has been lost."
"Christy … I'm not following."
She stood up and started pacing up and down in the small area.
"I … I think I have amnesia."
"Amnesia? Why do you think you've got amnesia? That's a serious problem."
"There are things I remember and then there comes this darkness, everything goes dark. It's like I'm dreaming and suddenly wake up. I know that I have dreamed, but can't remember every detail. The dream has ended and I don't know how it ends. Sometimes there is a flash and something finds its way back to my mind. When I try to remember and think about the lost pieces, I get panic attacks. I don't even like talking about it. It really makes me feel like choking."
Bill could see her shiver. He wanted to reach out and hug her, but he did not. He sat in his chair. Christy turned towards him, her shoulders were flinching.
"It's dark," she pointed to her head, "in here, and in here …," she pointed to her heart this time. She swallowed with some difficulty. Her mouth suddenly felt dry, like it was filled with sand.
"I don't like small places."
"I've noticed that one. You must be claustrophobic. Do you know why? It's usually something psychological."
"I remember talking to a doctor, a man … he had a white beard. I can't remember his name. He gave me those pills I take."
Bill remembered seeing a name on Christy's bottle of pills. He could not remember it either.
"And he made me take those pills regularly, they made my senses numb. I felt like a machine, but at least I felt more comfortable."
Her shivering got worse. Now, Bill was feeling scared. He regretted bringing up the subject. Christy had gone from feeling all grumpy in the morning to utterly cheerful and happy at the market and then again she looked like she was going to have a panic attack right there.
Bill stood up and walked to her. She backed away from him fast. Her back hit the isle and her hands clenched at the edges. Bill could see the stems of the roses which were laid on the counter, get crushed under her palms. He was not worried about the flowers; he was worried about Christy's hands. Her right hand was still bandaged, but her left hand was unprotected. The thorns could cut into her skin. He did not want her to get hurt. Bill rose his hands up in the air and walked away from her a few steps.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, "please come and sit down. I'm terribly sorry."
"It's not your fault," Christy's eyes widened, "he is always here. Even when he's not around he's here. I thought I'd be better off without him. I thought I'd feel better if I ran away, but I was wrong."
"Christy … can I bring you some water?"
Christy shook her head violently. Her breathing was shallow. Bill's eyes desperately searched everywhere for a paper bag. He did not have anything around. He felt like shouting out loud himself. Christy seemed to be in pain. She breathed in and out, her chest heaving with each breath she took.
"He told me that I'd go to hell."
"Why would you go to hell?"
"He said I deserved to go to hell, but he would help me find my way back. You see… he did his best, but I was too lost."
Bill did not understand anything of what she said; she was not making a lot of sense. Christy looked up at him. Her eyes were turning hard now. She started unzipping her jacket and the hoodie she always wore underneath. She took them off. Bill swallowed hard. He did not know what to think of the situation.
"Do you wanna know what happens to girls who have sinful thoughts and act on them?"
"Christy, what are …?"
Christy was not listening. All she could hear was this loud scream in her ears. Someone was shouting at her. She wanted to make HIM stop. She pulled the long sleeve black t-shirt she was wearing and took it off. Bill took a sharp breath in and held it inside. He froze in his place. It was not the cold air in the store, which made him shiver. It was the sight in front of him, which made him tremble all over.
Christy stood naked waist up in front of him, only wearing a black bra. Her body was carved and branded with scars. She turned around and pulled her hair away, showing her back to him. Bill almost forgot to inhale. He felt dizzy.
Her back was even worse. He had seen a glimpse of her back through the crack in the door, but now she was standing there in front of him fully exposed. The little dragonfly seemed like it had been cut in half. A long scar ran all the way through its body, yet it looked perfectly beautiful. It seemed like the dragonfly flipped its broken wings as she moved her shoulder blades subconsciously.
The scars on her back were so long and straight. Only one thing could have created them. Christy could hear it again. The whipping sound cutting through the air and only seconds later the pain would meet her bare skin.
"Blood and pain will wash the sins away."
Bill forced himself to look up. The voice coming from Christy's lips did not sound like her. It was hoarse and shaky; there was pure malice in it.
"Please, put your shirt on. You don't have to do this."
"He had a whip," Christy said it in her normal voice; "it was behind his door. He smoked a lot too, you know."
Her hands absentmindedly traced down on her arms on the rounder scars, the burn scars. Now Bill was beginning to understand a lot. He was so scared. He could see the pieces of the puzzle come together. It was not complete, but it was coming together somehow.
"Your father did this to you?"
Christy half turned towards him. Her eyes were out of focus, almost hazy.
"I never knew my father."
"Then who did this to you."
"Him."
"Who is he Christy? Your… husband? Were you married?"
"No."
Bill almost shouted, "Then who did this to you goddamn it?"
Christy's voice broke, "the scarecrow."
Her body collapsed. She fell to the ground, her arms wrapped around her body. She put her head against the cold stone of the isle and started panting. Bill stood there frozen in time. He did not understand. Why would she always speak in such mysterious ways? She was not making any sense, but still she seemed mortified. He felt sick still he made himself move.
He grabbed Christy's hoodie and walked towards her shaking body. She was moaning silently and her whole body shook. Bill carefully bent down and sat next to her. He tried to remember what Tom had told him about her situation. He once told him that they had to show her that her fears were not dangerous and could not hurt her anymore.
He put the hoodie around her. She did not move. He wrapped it around her naked body and his hands stayed on her shoulders. She did not show any reaction to that either except for covering her head with her arms. Bill finally played his last card. He had nothing to lose. She was already in a terrible state. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back to his chest.
Christy closed her eyes and her breathing became more troubled. He was determined not to let go.
"Calm down," Bill whispered softly, "I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm just trying to help."
She started to shiver and suddenly like a bomb exploding she burst out crying. She started to cry like a newborn baby being taken away from the safety of the mother's womb for the first time, protesting loudly to be forcefully pushed into something it had not chosen to be a part of. Christy cried out like an animal being slaughtered.
Bill heard the running footsteps. In a matter of seconds, Andi was standing there. His eyes widened at the sight. Bill shook his head at him and almost yelled at him, "Go get me some water or a can of coke. Get some paper bags, too. She's gonna be fine, she's gonna be fine."
Andi ran out without saying any words. He knew about Christy's condition somehow and he knew he could trust his friend. He ran to get what Bill had asked him as quickly as possible.
Bill gently put his hand on Christy's forehead and bent his head forward. He tried to shush her quiet, like a mother did with the newborn baby. He whispered in her ear gently, softly, "Everything is gonna be alright."
"It won't" Christy sobbed, "nothing is going to be alright."
"I'm here, you're not alone. I'll make things alright."
"You can't. He will find you."
"I can protect you."
"You can't, no one can. He will find you and kill you."
Christy turned in his arms abruptly. Her eyes widened in horror, he grabbed Bill's collar and panted through her sobs, "Run away, hide. He will kill you."
Bill grabbed her hands. He was shivering too, but would not show her how scared he was. He put a small kiss on her hand. Christy's pulse rose under her skin. She could not see anything anymore. Pictures were mingling with each other. She could see the face of a raven boy smiling back at her. He was wearing black rimmed glasses and his hair fell to his forehead. There was something on his neck, a tattoo, a dragonfly. He pulled up the hood of his hoodie to his face and took refuge underneath it. She could still see him smile at her.
"Ken." she moaned painfully.
Bill tried to steady her in her place and keep her hands in his. He could see the small scratches all over her palm, blood already drying on each tiny wound. Her right hand was bleeding, too. The red spatter was spreading through the white gaze rather rapidly. He tried to swallow. His throat hurt, it felt so dry.
"He told me" Christy's voice sounded tired, "that everything would be alright. He left and never came back. He just left me."
Christy tried to think of the boy in black rimmed glasses and the black hoodie, the same hoodie she was wearing and almost never took off, it was his hoodie. She could not remember anything else. It was all black; the hole in her mind was pitch black. Just a smile and the small lip piercing which decorated the smile. That was all.
She almost collapsed on Bill's chest. Her head rested on his chest. Her violent sobs turned into bitter tears. He wrapped his hands around her back. His heart was about to explode in his chest. He could feel the tears welling up in his own eyes. He bit his bottom lip and put his head on top of Christy's. They just sat on the cold damp floor entangled in each other's arms.