Page 14 of I See Red

Poor fucking Tayden, poor me, poor us, forever ends tomorrow. Ends the moment I leave here today.

I reach my left hand out, allowing him to place it on my finger, my ring finger to be exact, because, to me, he is my forever. He owns that finger, and he will forever own my heart, no matter the waves that try to hold us under its ocean.

“I love it, T.” I exhale, fighting back the sting burning my eyes, not saying too much because I know the moment I do, the tears will fall, and the word vomit I promised my father to keep hidden from all will gush out.

Run away with me, help me, I’m drowning, save me, love me forever.

All the things I want to say but can’t. I don’t want my story to be his; he deserves more. He deserves the innocence that a childhood should be. He deserves only the good parts of my life. He deserves this innocent memory to be exactly what he intended when he planned it.

Throwing my arms around him, I hug him tighter than I ever have, knowing it could be the last time I ever do. My heart cries in my chest.

“Thank you, T, truly it’s beautiful,” I whisper against his skin as my face nestles in the curve of his neck, his arms pulling me in closer.

“I thought you might; you’re always so smiley, mysmiley Ivy. Let’s head back down before everyone wonders where we are.”

“Yeah, just give me a moment, please?” I request.

“See you in a few. Don’t take too long. I want more time before your dad picks you up. Tomorrow at karate seems so far away,” he replies before pulling me back into him and placing a kiss on my lips so gently like he has a million times before. Releasing my hand, he heads towards the door, keeping my stare until the tips of our fingers disconnect, and he is no longer in my view.

Fucking gutted, that’s how I feel, every ounce of happiness his gesture brought me being swallowed up inside by self-contempt. Sadness and anger, God, the fucking anger surging through my veins right now is uncontainable. He doesn’t know, but I do and fuck does that hurt. I’m aware I always come back, but this time feels different. This time feels forever. I have all I’ve ever wanted in him, and it’s usually in those moments I have learned my destitution awaits me shortly thereafter, only this time it arrived early taking everything away from it. A single tear greets my cheek, my breaths shallow and swift as a tightening in my chest that’s so foreign forms. I release a single gasp of air, drawing in a larger one, before releasing it.

Pull it together; no room for tears on your last day, no room for error, nobody can know. Take this moment for what it is; it’s beautiful. Embrace it and hold onto it forever; he LOVES YOU, he always will. You cannot break right now, Ivy, don’t fucking break.

His innocence, my driving force to pull myself together. I take a look around his room, taking it all in one last time. I plop down onto his bed, breathing in his scent, taking the momentI need to gather myself fully. Wiping my eyes, I head towards the door, looking back briefly as I close it for my first and possibly last time. Heading down the stairs, I check myself in the antique mirror hanging on the wall, his mother glaring back at me through it. Her look is all I need to know that I’m not welcome but tolerated. I smile at her nonetheless. Turning the corner, I find the big French doors and rejoin everyone in the pool. We spent the next few hours splashing around being kids, making sure to have a few moments for ourselves and sneaking a few underwater kisses. The day is truly perfect. Every moment in it I will remember for the rest of my life, at least, I hope so. Startled by the sound of my father’s horn, I rush out of the pool, gathering my things. Tayden comes up from behind, wrapping his arms around me before turning me, laying a kiss smack on my lips with zero concern for who sees, and I fucking love it.

Fuck you, Tayden’s mom, and fuck you, Dad.

Making my journey to hell, the most beautiful voice shouts to me.

“I love you, Ivy Sage Rutledge.”

“I love you too, Tayden Bergess,’’ I playfully yell back to him as I skip to my father’s car, giving him zero hint of my apprehension for the rest of my day to come.

“Ready, kiddo?” my father asks closing the door to my coffin on wheels.

“Do I even have a choice? Are we leaving now? I haven’t packed yet,” I reply, my excitement instantly switching to dread.

“No need,you don’t need anything where you are going,”

Words I wish to never hear again, forever imprinted on my brain.

Exiting the driveway of what should be my future home, my hand touching the glass, the smiley face ring staring back at me as I peer past it at the one who gave it to me for every second left I possibly can. Holding onto every moment before I can see himno more, and he is simply a memory imprinted in my brain. A new scar etched into my shattered heart.

Goodbye, T. I love you more than you will ever know. Happy Birthday, I’m sorry Monday at karate never came.

Dear Diary,

Date: The day I wish I would’ve pulled the trigger :)

What a fucking day one. The kids here are rough. In all the places I have been, this one takes the cake. I’m not sure this one is survivable. I’m scared, like fucking terrified. At least I am allowed paper and a pen under supervision. Smart move after my entrance yesterday. I’d probably fucking stab myself and end it all. God, I am so fucking tired; I just want to give up. I woke up this afternoon, my life completely ripped away from me once again, then two crazy chicks in the room next to me came in my room in the middle of the night and pissed in my closet all over my things. Thesmell woke me once the medicine wore off. I never needed to pee as badly as I did this afternoon after being knocked out for so long. I headed into the bathroom and walked out to both of them, twins to be exact, Skyler & Skyla squatting over the communal bathroom sinks, matching nightgowns, literally fucking shitting in the sinks laughing and snickering at each other, their teeth poorly maintained, their black raggedy long hair draping down over them reaching the countertops. I froze. I had no words, I chose to just not engage. Just looking at them disgusted and irritated me. They weren’t happy about my rejection, though. They began cursing me out as I walked away, yelling profanities and very intent on letting me know I was in for a wild ride……. “Welcome, we’re just getting started,” followed by laughs you watch in horror movies, I assume. I have never watched one. Why watch when you have front-row tickets your entire life? People watch them to feel something, fear, suspense, the unknown. For me, that feeling doesn’t give me adrenaline; it makes me want to vomit because what seems to be misunderstood bymany is that scary movies are someone’s true nightmare.Today, they are once again mine.

I already know this is going to be harder than any place before if this is the kind of shit, no pun intended, on the first day. Step one, make myself unsafe to have adjoining rooms with, create the behavior to force the narrative to get me assigned to solitary. Crazy to believe just two days, ago I was with him, happy; even though I knew this was coming, the memories still sting. How one’s world can completely go from perfection to disconnection is eerie. What I would give to be back in his arms in his room, wearing my ring, safe and loved, laughing with friends and just being a kid.

I don’t think he’s ever realized he’s the only person who ever saw me. Although I certainly did deter him from knowing otherwise. My mom never saw me, miscarrying me a few years too late while her damage and choices imprinted on me further than my looks. My father never saw me further than being a moldable child he could control, condition, and be angry with because I was the epitome of the biggest devil he hadand will continue to ever face, all while loving me too much—or claiming to. Our relationship is impure and built on chaos and lack of boundaries without resolve in the future. I was never allowed to have friends to be seen by. My own personal bodyguard made sure to destroy them the moment I attempted one. He’d swoop in and irrigate them from my life with a simple phone call.

The psychiatrists and counselors could never see me because they were blinded by my father’s money that flowed so graciously at my own demise. It pays more to treat a child who doesn’t need treatment than to help a child who is being murdered by her own father day in and day out. God, he is so fucking good, but one day I will be better. I don’t even think the padded walls can hear me as I cling to them, tearing at their fabrics, screaming at the top of my lungs as the man with the straight jacket and all too anxious nurse with a syringe, lunges for me, my screams filling the room, begging them to stop and listen to me, pleading frantically.

“I am not broken. I am being broken.” My cries falling short as the needle enters my body, and once again, I am fighting the meds filling my veins. “Don’t fall asleep,” I say to myself, feeling the itch of the jacket, my arms being threaded through the straps tightened one by one. My eyes feeling heavy, I’m in overdrive, avoiding the drug induced sleep because, for someone like me, every moment of sleep is light years of terror, my dreams transcending into horror I can’t wake from, physically trapped, vocally screaming out from my bed in a realm of darkness. Trauma purgatory, if you will, on replay with no one to wake me, unable to awaken myself. Come morning, when the screams fade, I wake to relive my darkest fears in the awoken, world clinging to the last shred of hope that someone will help me eventually instead of further harming me. Neither night nor day can I escape from the damage done by others. So, what do I do? I wake each morning cold as stone inside, for to take it, you must become it; at what cost to me, I am uncertain, but it’s my only copingmechanism, and it’s my only hope of getting out of here.Be what they say, then taper it back to pretend you got better because being who I really am from day one doesn’t work. They think you are pretending. Fuck I’m tired of pretending to be crazy to get out. It’s hard as fuck, it’s causing real issues within myself. Not to mention these insane meds. Lines are blurring.

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