âYour brother was worried, Noelle,â Dr. Chadwick, my new therapist, mentions as she reclines in her chair. Sheâs a very beautiful woman in her early thirties, her blonde hair flowing down her back, her big honey eyes hidden behind a pair of spectacles. Pushing her glasses up her nose, she looks me up and down in that typical manner of hersâas if she could reveal all my secrets at once.
Maybe she can. After all, itâs her job to make me talk. But right now, the mention of my brother alone doesnât make me very inclined to accommodate her.
âDid he tell you to give me more pills? Maybe cure the crazy in me faster?â I grumble under my breath.
âDonât say that. Your brother is just worried for you. You missed six appointments before he brought you here today. What happened?â
I shrug.
âI went for ice cream instead.â
I changed a number of therapists in the last year, and Dr. Chadwick is Ciscoâs latest attempt at making sure I how crazy I am.
I cannot fault the woman though. For all my aloofness, sheâs been the epitome of calm and serenity for the past hour, trying to coax me into revealing all my secrets.
Too bad even donât know them.
âNoelle,â she sighs. âYour attitude is not helping. And I canât help you if you donât want to accept my help.â
âIâm not sure anyone can help me, Dr. Chadwick. That ship sailed a long time ago.â
âDonât talk like that. Youâre only twenty-two. You have your whole life ahead of you.â
âThen why do I feel so old?â I whisper, raising my gaze to meet hers. âWhy do I feel so much older than that?â
âTalk to me.â Her expression is one of kindness, and I find it hard to be mean to her when sheâs been nothing but sweet to me.
âI donât know what to say. I really donât,â I take a deep breath.
âTell me about your husband,â she urges and I freeze. âYou never talk about him,â she continues.
My chest feels heavy, my entire body racked by pain as memories assault me.
âI donât like to talk about him,â I say softly, dropping my eyes to the floor.
âYou were married at eighteen, right?â she probes, and I see that she wonât be satisfied until she pries the information from my lips.
âYes.â I answer curtly.
Maybe it will help if I talk about it. Maybe pretending to be detached will actually help me detach myself from itâfrom my past.
âHow was he?â
I blink, rooted to the spot as the images from my weddingâmy cursed weddingâdance before my eyes.
âHe wasnât a nice man,â is all I say.
His face as heâd smirked at me resurfaces, his fingers fumbling with his belt while Iâd backed away from him in fear.
I squeeze my eyes shut as I try to push the memory away. Still, my skin cannot forget. My scars cannot disappear. The painâthat bone melting painâis still fresh in my mind.
âNoelle?â Dr. Chadwickâs voice jolts me back to reality.
âHe wasnât a nice man,â I repeat, adding more confidence to my voice.
She purses her lips, studying me.
âWhy donât we switch this up a little,â she proposes, shuffling some of the papers in her lap. âIt says here that you have selective dissociative amnesia,â her eyes meet mine as she waits for me to continue.
âYes.â
âWhatâs the last thing you remember?â
âI donât know, really. It was just a regular day, I guess,â I reply, scratching my arm. âWe were preparing for a party at the .â
âI see,â she says as she jots something down.
âWhy do you think you suppressed your memories?â She asks.
âIsnât that your job to figure out?â I roll my eyes at her, but she just smiles.
âIâm curious to see why think you blocked them out.â
The question gives me pause. Iâve thought about that countless times, trying to figure out what could have been so terrible Iâd simply erased those memories from my mind.
âEveryone died.
I was the only survivor. One foot in the grave, but I was the only one who made it out alive that day.
âRight. In the fire,â she nods. âWho died? Anyone you cared about?â She continues to probe, and somehow I find myself going along with her questions, the answers tumbling out of my mouth.
âYes. My friend,â I pause to wet my lips, my throat suddenly dry. A flash appears before my eyes, words echoing in my mindâall branding me a killer.
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block everything. Still, the whispers in my ears continue, haunting me and promising me the retribution I deserve.
âI killed her. I killedâ¦â I shake my head, mumbling the same nonsense, almost on a loop. âI killedâ¦â
My limbs start trembling, a shiver running down my back and making me huddle deeper into the couch.
âI killed her,â I repeat, my eyes wide and unblinking as I see her face right before my eyes.
Sheâd been the only decent person in that house. The only one whoâd taken pity on the stranger who barely spoke the language. Sheâd guided me and helped me learn and accommodate to the culture. Without herâ¦what was already hell would have been much worse.
âWhat do you mean you killed her?â Dr. Chadwick frowns.
I shake my head aggressively, the memory just within reach, but so far away.
âI donât know⦠I donât remember. But Iâm sure. Iâm sureâ¦â
An ominous feeling envelops me, and deep down I know something is wrongâthat am all wrong.
Maybe they are right and I crazy.
Though Iâve denied it from the beginning, thereâs the unmistakable sensation that something is missingâthat my memories, once restored, will uncover something monstrous inside of me.
âDonât strain yourself, Noelle. The memories will come with time.â
With time⦠But do I want them to come?
Itâs already been two years, and the blank in my head still remainsâmemories from before after my time at the hacienda blurry or simply absent.
I can only remember , and his punishments. I can remember all the pain and suffering and I have to ask myself. Why hadnât my mind blocked that too? Because if whatever happened was more traumatic than what I remember⦠Then Iâm not sure I want to remember.
âWhy donât you tell me about your friend, then,â she says, her notebook in front of her as she keeps jotting things down.
Almost absentmindedly, I take my shoes off as I bring my knees to my chest, folding myself into a small ball to preserve heat. Goosebumps erupt all over my body the more I think of the past.
âNoelle?â
âShe was nice. She only spoke some English, but she always made an effort to help me. We taught each other,â I smile at the memory. âShe would help me with Spanish and I would help her with English.â
âThat sounds lovely,â Dr. Chadwick smiles.
I return the smile tentatively.
âShe had a lover who spoke only English. Weâd spend our evenings trying to come up with flirty things for her to tell him,â the memory is pleasant, and my lips curl up even further into a warm smile.
âWhy do you think you killed her?â Dr. Chadwick asks, and I frown, the suddenness of the question taking me by surprise.
âI⦠I⦠I donât know,â I keep shaking my head.
âDonât strain yourself.â
âI donât remember, but I know,â I mumble. âThereâs something inside of me that I killed her. God,â I start breathing harshly, something tugging at my conscience. It feels like I could almost grasp itâthat elusive memory.
âYou canât know for sure if you donât remember, Noelle.â
As if being struck by something, I stumble back in my seat, my arms around my body as I try to warm myself up. Tears soak my cheeks. My throat is clogged with emotion as I realize my intuition had been right all along.
âBut I doâ¦â I look her in the eyes. âShe died because of me. Lucero died because of me.â
âNoelle, you need to calm down,â Dr. Chadwick tells me worriedly, rising up from her chair to come to my side.
âDonât⦠donât touch me,â my voice is barely above a whisper as I shy away from her.
âIâm not going to hurt you. Youâre safe here,â she coos, slowly reaching out for me with her hand.
âShh, itâs fine,â she tugs me into a hug and I simply break down.
Sobs rack my body as I finally let go of all the bottled up pain.
Her hands trail down my back, her touch slowly bringing me back to the present and grounding me.
âIâm sorry,â I sniffle when I feel I have a better grasp on myself.
âYou have nothing to be sorry for, Noelle. But Iâm going to be very honest with you,â she leans back, regarding me with a serious expression on her face. âThereâs a lot of trauma in your past, a lot of it that you have never dealt with and itâs causing you distress now. I can help you and guide you to understand it better. But I can only do that if are willing to put in the work.â
I nod at her.
âWhat if I canât take it? What if the memories are too bad? Tooâ¦â
âIs that what you want? To never remember? To never know what happened to your friend?â
I shake my head. I want to remember, but I also donât want to.
âIâm scared. The little snippets I remember donât give me much hope for the rest. And Iâm already hanging by a threadâ¦â I trail off, taking a deep breath. âI donât know how to function anymore. I donât know how to beâ¦me.â I finally admit the crux of the issue.
âWhat do you mean?â
âI donât know who I am anymore. My entire identity was wrapped up in being a wife, and thenâ¦a widow. A broken widow. I know who people see me as, but I donât know who am.â
Dr. Chadwick purses her lips, removing her glasses and rubbing her eyes.
âWeâll start small then,â she eventually says. âWhatâs something that you used to enjoy doing? Before you got married. Before everything.â
I tilt my head as I look at her, trying to think of an answer.
âI used to play the piano,â I admit, almost reluctantly. Because while Iâve been playing the piano ever since I was a little girl, Iâd also been forced to do it at the . Sergio had enjoyed bragging about my skill, forcing me to perform in front of his guests, and had never been pleasant.
âWhen was the last time you played?â
âBefore⦠Before the fire.â
âWhy donât you start again? Would you like that?â
I think for a moment as I slowly nod my head.
âGood. Then thatâs your assignment until next time. Try to play something. Anything. And report back how that made you feel.â
âThatâs it?â I ask as she gets up, heading back to her chair and placing her notepad on a table.
âYes. Thatâs it for today,â her lips tug up. âYou know, from what your brother told me, I expected you to be more difficult.â
âAnd?â I ask, my own lips curling in response.
âI think thereâs still hope for you,â she winks at me, before showing me out.
I donât know if there is hope for me, but I am willing to try. Contrary to what everyone seems to think of me, I do want to get out of this limbo and I do want to find myself again.
But itâs not easy. And it certainly wonât be a smooth journey.
I just wish I had someone by my sideâsomeone to support me unconditionally.
The foolish thought creeps into my head and I still as I realize the direction of my thoughts.
When I was younger, I had dreams. Like any girl, Iâd thought about meeting my prince charming and living happily ever after. But all those hopes were dashed when I was told I would marry an unknown man from Mexico.
All those hopes were dead and buried on my wedding night, with the blood I shed from deep wounds, now forever seared in my flesh.
Iâd stopped thinking about love when Iâd come face to face with my new reality.
And having seen what the world has to offer, I donât think thereâs such a thing as Not after Iâd been traded like cattle by my own family. Not when had intervened even when Iâd called one day, crying and scared that my husband was going to kill me.
It seems Iâm bound to be forever on my own.
âWhere is she?â
The voice reaches the landing of the second floor, making me hurry down the stairs. My eyes widen in surprise as I see my two brothers, Thadeo and Amo, standing in the hallway.
âNoelle?â Amo is the first to spot me, his features softening as he opens his arms for me to jump into.
âAmo,â I exclaim, taking refuge in his hug. âWhat are you guys doing here?â I ask on a breathless tone.
I havenât seen Amo in months. With him spending most of his time traveling the world and Thadeo living with his family on the other side of the country, itâs hard to see my brothers often. But while Amo had dropped by every now and then, Thadeo had been the most elusive, and the last time Iâd seen him in the flesh had been before my wedding. But I have an inkling why.
I push that thought out of my mind, enjoying seeing Amo again and looking forward to spending some time with him. He is the youngest man in the family and the closest one in age to me. Even so, heâs still ten years older than me.
Maybe thatâs why Iâve never been close to any of my siblings, since by the time I was old enough to comprehend certain things, they were already forming their own familiesâat my expense.
Granted, that canât be said about Amo since heâs had his own demons to grapple with over the years. Heâs the only one whoâs always been completely unattached, and I donât think heâs ever had a stable relationship. I may not be privy to much, but from what Iâve gathered, heâs been battling some type of addiction for over a decade.
âNoelle,â Thadeo grunts from behind, and my lips press in a thin line.
Raising my gaze to meet his, I feel a small pang of pain in my chest as I realize that if Thadeo is here then so is .
âCisco didnât tell me were coming,â I lean back, placing some distance between us.
âWe didnât know for sure either,â Amo replies, giving Thadeo a look.
And just as Iâm about to ask what this is all about, voice rings out.
âYuyu says dinner will be ready soon,â she comes into view, stopping when she sees me. âNoelle, how good to see you,â she exclaims, though I know her concern to be fake.
âCamilla,â I nod noncommittally at her.
Thereâs a flurry of movement and conversation as we are led to the dining hall, everyone sharing various anecdotes from their lives and trying to add to the discussion so itâs not as awkward as it already is.
Iâm in the back, just watching everyone pretend they are having the greatest time, cracking a smile every now and then.
âYou should eat more, Noelle. You need to stay strong,â Yuyu comments, laying her hand gently on top of mine and giving me a small smile.
I turn to her, taking in her features. The way her black eyes seem to sparkle with warmth and genuine affection, itâs even harder to muster a backhanded reply.
Sheâd been an orphan before Cisco had found her on the streets, taking her in and caring for her like he had never cared for anyone else. And when heâd finally married her, her lack of parentage as well as her Chinese heritage had caused an uproar in the family.
Cisco hadnât cared though. Heâd never cared about anything but her.
âThank you,â I force myself to reply as she places some meat on my plate, urging me to eat more.
Cisco is watching our interactions like a hawk, probably making sure Iâm not rude to her.
The others seem oblivious to the tension in the airâeveryone but Camilla.
Sheâs watching me covertly, her eyes the same shade as âthe monster whoâd been my husband.
I know what she must be thinking. Sheâs afraid Iâm going to speak out, that Iâm going to tell Thadeo what his bitch of a wife did.
She barely touches her food as her gaze finds mine every now and then. Itâs only after dinner that she manages to catch me alone, taking me aside in one of the unoccupied rooms.
Sheâs restless as she paces in front of me, her features stained with the fear of being discovered.
âIâm sorry,â she finally says, and my eyes widen in surprise. Of all the things I thought she was going to say to me, that had been it.
âYouâre sorryâ¦â I repeat, slowly.
âI know what I did was unforgivable. But I was scared. I was scared that he would choose you and give me up,â her lower lips trembles. âWe werenât in a very good period in our marriage, and I knew that one word from you and he would have spurned me.â
âCamilla,â I take a deep breath, feeling a headache mounting.
âNo, please. Let me say this. Iâve been living with that guilt for so long, I donât think I can do it anymore,â she shakes her head. âI knew what Sergio was like, because he was like that with me, too. Iâd lived it on my own skin, and yet I condemned you to the same fate. Iâ¦â She takes a deep breath, closing her eyes.
âYou can tell your brother that I picked up the phone that day. You can tell him that I listened to you begging for help and I hung up on you. You can tell him everything. I canât take this anymore,â she sniffles a sob. âWhat I did to you⦠itâs unforgivable, and Iâm sorry. Iâm ready to face the consequences.â
I can only stare at her wide eyed.
Camilla was supposed to be married to the heir of our family, but instead, sheâd fallen in love with Thadeoâor, at least thatâs how the story goes. I may have been young, but Iâd always seen a certain tension between them. Sergio, her brother, had taken it as an insult that Thadeo had sullied his sister, and heâd threatened an all-out war if reparations were not made. So theyâd offered meâa bride for a bride.
Sergio had been thirty years older than me, but it hadnât mattered. None of it had mattered when Cisco had gotten his beloved Yuyu and Thadeo his cherished Camilla. Iâd been but an afterthought.
But then again, Iâd been so young when Iâd been promised to Sergioânot yet a person. At least thatâs what I think my brothers told themselves as they pushed through with the deal.
On the day I turned eighteen I was given away to a monster. All so that my brothers could have their happily ever after.
Iâd taken it. After all, Iâd been raised to expect an arranged marriage. But even my suffering in silence had reached a boiling point when Iâd thought Sergio was about to kill meâfor good that time. So Iâd made a call. The call that Camilla had answered, but pretended it never happened.
âIf he had actually killed me,â I start, looking her straight in the eye. âWould sorry have cut it?â
She blanches at my words, looking more distressed than Iâve ever seen her.
âIâ¦â
âCall Thadeo here. Tell him yourself what you did. At least have the decency to take responsibility for your own mistakes.â
Sheâs trembling from head to toe, but eventually she gives me a jerky nod.
And as Thadeo comes into the room, his expression slowly morphing from one of disbelief to one of disappointment as he looks at his wife, I canât help but feel sorry for her.
âGod, Noelle. Iâm so sorry,â he rasps as he takes me into his arms, kissing the top of my head.
I lay still, taking his platitudes, but remaining unmoved by the display. The time has long passed for anyone to pity me or the situation thrust me into.
âIâm fine,â I reply, my tone even. My gaze flickers between the two of them, the tension thick as Thadeo canât even bring himself to look at Camilla. âIâll leave you two,â I add briskly, quickly hurrying to my room.
Thereâs no satisfaction at knowing the truth is out now. Thereâs no satisfaction at knowing that my brotherâs marriage will most likely fall apart.
Thereâs only numbness.
Heart-wrenching, bone-deep numbness.
Because sorry doesnât work when youâre already dead. And while my body may be alive, my soul has long died a slow, torturous death.
Comments(0)
Join the discussion — sign in to leave a comment
Sign In to CommentNo comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts!