Heal Me

Chapter 13

Ever since Evangeline got out of his car, Damon could not think about anything else but her. And it was so frustrating because it was impossible for him to find out what caused her so-called panic attack at the party. A strange guy feeling her up couldn't have made her go all crazy and mumble nonsense. Of course, he imagined how disgusting it could had been, but he stopped him just in time. So why was she making so much of a big deal out of it? The hot tears on her rosy cheeks, the sniffing of her nose, the cracked, hoarse voice and that whimper...

'Please don't touch me...' Damon remembered and his hands involuntarily formed into fists. He groaned and plopped on the black suede couch, running a hand through his hair. What had happened to her? What scared her so much that night?

These thoughts made him forget about how right he felt around her... it was something Damon could not explain because not even he knew why he was reacting like that. It was like he was hopelessly linked to her somehow... And feeling so right, so good, was strange since the accident; it became foreign to him.

Damon now realized that, for once, the accident was not obsessing him like it used to, before they met, because he was actually worrying more about her.

"Bullshit! I don't CARE!" he shouted, his loud voice vibrating through the silence in the house, and threw the beige pillow next to him on the floor.

'I don't fucking care about Eva. I just drove her home. That's it!' he said to himself and ran a hand through his hair once more. He was always doing that when he was nervous.

Damon got up and trudged towards his father's office. He quietly opened the door and went to the liquor cabinet, which was filled with bottles of whiskey, gin, wine and vodka. He pulled out a half-empty whiskey one, unscrewed the cap and put the bottle to his lips but stopped before the liquid filled his mouth.

"Argh! Fuck this!" he grunted and arranged everything so it would look the same as before. He wanted to go to the park to calm himself down so, grabbing his jacket and shoes from the hallway, Damon headed towards the front door. Just as he closed it behind him and locked it, he noticed a pale yellow envelope on the used mat. A frown appeared on his face as he picked it up and flipped it on the other side. In simple handwriting it read: 'To Damon'.

So he sat down on the front steps and, opening it, he pulled out an A4 sheet of paper folded cautiously. Placing the empty envelope in his lap, Damon got a weird feeling as he unfolded the paper and let his eyes fall on the name of the person who wrote it.

'Eva...' he saw and angrily went to throw it away. But he didn't and, sighing deeply, he reluctantly began reading:  

'Dear polite late-night driver,

I know how lame it is to sent letters nowadays, but I had no other choice. There is something I have to tell you for I feel like I was somehow unfair to you at the party last night.

Things had... happened and now I see things differently. I apologize for being so annoyingly insistent, but it is only because I want to help you, although I do not have any idea what you had to go through that made you this sad. This may all seem like a lot of crap, but I can tell that your heart is broken and that you are deeply suffering; I could tell from the moment you first looked into my eyes, that day when I sat beside you in the park.

As I said last night, I just want to make you smile and laugh and be truly alive again because "We need never be hopeless, because we can never be irreparably broken.", Miles said in "Looking for Alaska". I realize how weird this sounds, but I want to be your friend and be there for you when you're feeling down. I want to ease the pain for you, Damon, and eventually show you that you CAN be happy in the "labyrinth of suffering" but only if you accept the past as a part of you that cannot be changed.

Ever since you asked me why I wanted to do this, I really thought about it but no, I have no actual solid, logic reason... or maybe I haven't found it yet. Frankly, I don't know what came over me; I just want to and his wish turned into an urge I can't possibly stop. I should not care, right? It's none of my business. But I do; I care and I promised myself not to give up until you move on from whatever had hurt you. So, whether you like it or not, you're stuck with me.

Before I end this letter -which I can only hope you won't tear in half- I must confess that I lied last night; I was not okay and I'm not going to be for a while. It is not because of that guy who touched me, but because of something else that I cannot tell you right now... I just had to get in my warm bed and fall asleep, but I shouldn't have lied so bluntly. I am sorry but thank you for worrying.  

- Eva '