Page 135 of Eyes Like Angel
“Trust me, it’ll be fun,” Marceline promised. Slowly, she trailed her manicured nails and her studded jewels towards Eva are, considering how Eva flinched.
But, Eva didn’t flinch; she let Marceline clasped her hand.
“Hospitals suck, but you’re going to be okay,” she reassured Eva. “We all struggle, but we’ll make it, I’m sure. When I was…a little girl, around eight years old, I got…” Marceline swallowed, toughen herself to articulate the next words, “molested by my uncle and my cousin as I was fetching my mom’s bag for her to eat her favorite snacks. I tried to tell my mom about the assault, but she didn’t believe me. That’s how we got…to the way we are now. The nightmares hadn’t stopped, and when my uncle died from cancer one night, I was happy, and my nightmares didn’t bother me anymore. But my cousin, who raped me at the same time as my uncle, he accused me of killing him. My mom was about to kick me out, but my brothers decided to convince my mom to take me in still, because I’m the daughter, I’m somebody’s daughter—abused and sexually attack for only wearing a daffodil dress as a child. Despite thehesitating grudge laid against me, she decided to take me here in Fort Heaven, and wanted me to be…purified, to start fresh. But I’m not a virgin anymore, so what’s the point of undo the damages, when it’s already there.”
The air duct buzzed as it activated.
I hadn’t heard Marceline opened up this with much ease, since the day where she got drunk at the party with her party friends.
With her back slouching in devastation, Eva looked down on her lap, withering.
“I’m sorry,” is all Eva said.
“I’m not here for a confession. That’s not me,” Marceline said. “What I’m saying is, if I get through this, this ugly and horrific experience of mine I had to deal with in everyday basis, so can you. Your Lord will be there,” Marceline added, trying to sound encouraging as possible, despite Marceline is a devoted atheist. “Sometimes our life needs a little color, and you’re part of it. I have my Neapolitan colors, and you have emerald eyes and violet dress.”
By dress, Marceline implied Eva’s nun outfit.
Only then, Eva inched her head low, slowly processing Marceline’s words, as if Eva’s contemplating, deliberating how her life would be like, to have a Neapolitan hair colored like Marceline’s, or her exaggerated and colorful nails and spunky styled attire she frequently dressed.
As much attempts Eva tried, her hesitation on her weary features said it all, clueless and lost and hazed, deliberating on what her life would be like if she wasn’t a nun, sworn and bounded by God’s law and sworn to chastity. Her fingernails flexed and loosened on a hospital blanket. The heart machine beeped, now locked in with a little speed, leading up to Eva’s heart rate.
“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Marceline’s voice softened, almost motherly, the one thing she despised the most.
“Me…too,” Eva answered, her voice wavered.
“World can be so scary for us, for the unprepared and confused, but I’ll be right here with you,” Marceline uttered, to lessen the tension from weighing on Eva’s shoulders.
Finally, when she came back with her senses, Eva’s emerald eyes glistened in tears, which she fought hard to hide before.
“Thank you,” Eva’s voice wavered, tears prickled and her eyes reddened.
In one gentle motion, Marceline gestured a loving embrace, which it hadn’t occur to me the toughest people has the gentlest heart, preserved and stubborn, for once her gentlest qualities are the strongest trait, a will to have.
Once their hugs ended, Eva inclined her fragile body back on the pillows.
“Adrian brought you here,” Marceline said to her, her tone lowered but still caught an earshot. “He can be an obnoxious jackass who constantly flex with his expensive fashion taste, but, I’m happy he’s there for you.”
The door handle vibrated in my grasp moderately, and stopped myself from my hand convulsing.
“Marceline, you have Aaron, too. I’ve seen you guys, how you two interacted,” Eva intervened.
Marceline’s shoulders sank. “Yeah, but that’s just him and I.”
“Are you going to confess to him?” Eva pressed on, not in a nosy way, rather hopeful.
Marceline said nothing, had her back slouched like Quasimodo. She wouldn’t let Eva peek at her dreaded reaction contorted on her features. Talking about Aaron, or bringing his name up, was the last thing Marceline needed, getting awayfrom the confusion and drama. I’ve known her for quite some time. She hated feeling like a high school girl, blush on her cheeks in hindrance.
Stupid tongue. I couldn’t shut the fuck up.
“He doesn’t matter right now,” Marceline deflected. “My focus is on you. The sick needed more attention than some guy.”
At once, Eva surrendered her curiosity.
“I liked the angel-shaped doughnuts,” Eva pointed out sheepishly, changing the subject. “They’re very delicious.”
Marceline hummed in happiness. “Maybe I should bring in for tomorrow—free of charge! Oh my God, we need to talk about something I found on social media. There’s this drink I would like to try. Maybe I should start making the recipe and put my own twist into it, and have beignets on the side.”
“What’s it called?”
