Page 8 of Tell Me Everything
“And how did you feel?”
Being honest was terrifying. This time, I knew I couldn't lie. The lies were becoming too much to bear. “Abandoned and worthless.”
“Have you heard from your family?”
I shook my head, unable to answer. If I opened my mouth, I'd either burst into tears or vomit my guts out. I missed my family so much. I thought I'd miss them less after a while, but the more time passed, the more it became clear I had no one left. Between my older brother, who passed away, my mother, who couldn't look me in the eye since she knew my father had tried to strangle me a few years earlier, or my family, who had stopped contacting us, I knew I was alone. But the worst of all, was that I was surrounded by people who made me feel alone. As if I were invisible. And I didn't know how to get through all of this.
***
For long minutes, I waited in the doctor's office. After what seemed like an eternity, but was only six weeks, my cast was finally removed. Goodbye, awkward crutching from one classroom to the next, and hello, slow, painful rehabilitation.
I bit my thumbnail, waiting for the doctor to come back with the results. I'd asked Mom to wait for me in the hallway. I’d been surprised when she’d offered to accompany me to the doctor's office. For years, I'd had the impression that she'd left me on the sidelines, so having her near me at this moment only added to my discomfort.
“Your leg is healing nicely, Elena,” Doctor Petit announced as he entered the room.
“Does this mean I can dance again?”
I had to know. For the past few weeks, I'd spent my time worrying. Would my dream end here? Did I still have a chance of succeeding as a dancer? Would I be able to dance professionally? So many questions were racing through my head, making me dizzy. Doctor Petit removed his small round glasses and stared at me. He had a receding hairline, which strangely accentuated his sympathetic aura.
“That's a question I can't answer yet. As long as you haven't started rehabilitating your knee, I can't make any promises. If you follow your physiotherapist's instructions to the letter, I think you will.”
It was a relief. But even though I felt a little better, there was still something that bothered me. Even if I could restart my life as a ballet dancer, I was set to lose another year of my life. Another year in that house, with a drunkard and an absent mother.
“I lost a year for nothing...”
“Don't see this break as an obstacle, but as an opportunity.Maybe it's the perfect time to focus on other things you'd like to accomplish or improve.”
Yeah, right...I had nowhere else to go. My mother had made sure of that when she’d decided I couldn't see my family after my brother died. This good news wasn't enough to erase all the pain that had been lodged in my chest.
On the way home, Mom talked about anything and everything to fill the void. Her concern wasn't doing me as much good as I'd hoped.
When I arrived home, I was surprised to see Alex waiting on our porch. He looked up from his iPhone and stared at my leg in amazement. You'd think that now that I could walk again on my own and go to school, he'd stop coming. He didn't.
“I see you don't need crutches anymore.”
“About time,” I mumbled as I entered the house.
I didn't bother closing the door, knowing full well that he was going to follow me. Walking without a cast and crutches was still very uncomfortable. I was still limping slightly, which was bothersome. I was tired of feeling like a broken doll.
Alex placed some notes on my desk and sat down on my couch. He kept bringing me his notes, as if I couldn't go back to class without him. I was beginning to think this was just an excuse to come over.
“So, how did the visit to the doctor go?”
“Good.”
I dropped onto my bed, head first into the pillows. I hoped this day would be over soon. After the session with the therapist and the visit to the hospital, I was exhausted. And as always, Alex's presence put me on edge. There was no reason for him to bother me anymore.
“What did he say?”
“Stop bugging me,” I said with a sigh. “I'm fine, I don't need you.”
“You live with an alcoholic and violent father; your brother is dead, and you just had an accident that may put an end to the career of your dreams. I don't think you're fine.”
Is he serious?I glared at him. Was this his way of making me feel better? If it were, it would be better if he just shut up. “Thanks for summing up my life. Do you feel better now?”
Alex ran his hands over his face, exasperated. I was unbearable with him; I was well aware of that. But all I wanted was for him to leave me alone. His green irises pierced holes in my skull. Alex always gave me the impression he could read me as if I were an open book. The idea frightened me. He already knew too much.
“Elena, when are you going to stop lying to everyone? You're not okay.”
