The Insanity of a Wallflower

Revenge XXXVI

A/n:

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-Helium

Everything that was my "father" was something that felt fundamentally wrong. Every memory was like a shard of broken glass; it would cut you if you touched it, the images were fractured and distorted. All those pieces of my past... broken... worthless... they were all just wrong.

For years I refused to cut myself further craning over those broken pieces. I refused to think about him, our life together, our anything. But now I found myself grasping shard after shard, desperately fighting to put the mirror back together again- desperately trying to remember and see the truth of what my past was.

Had I always been sick like him? Had I always shown signs of his mental illness?  I was always wondering what it was that made him do what he did; how he could hate mother and I so desperately instead of forgiving her.  Would I be like that one day? Was I capable of the same thing?

I knew this was something I should ask Doctor Hathaway, but with that confession would have to be the confession of it all. I'd have to confess why I was really breaking, about the mural, about everything. And I couldn't.

The art beneath my fingers seemed to glow. The setting sun glimmered through the glass ceiling and down the stone's face. A week had gone by since Hayden had confessed his fear of my ambidexterity. His own emotions seemed to have gotten the better of him; he had pulled me in with such force I hadn't had time to react.

After our kiss had ended, those fevered eyes burning into mine, he backed away from my form; like I was too much to bear suddenly. "Please finish the mural." that mouth seemed to rasp the words out. His deadly attractive face watched me intently; it made me wonder if I was to move quickly, instinct would force him to reach after me. I was almost tempted to do it.

But again those words drummed in my head. It was the heavy beat of a headache that wouldn't go away. You're like dad... you're capable of hurting those around you... of those you love.

I broke my gaze away from him. "Thank you," I whispered to his retreat. I knew why he had given it to me. 

I finished the last part of Jackson's mural, trying to ignore the gaze on my back. When it came time to clean up, Hayden helped me silently. But every time he stepped too close beside me, brushed his hand against mine, had his lips too close to my ear as he leaned down from behind me.... made me feel like I was still at his mercy. He had stopped kissing me, but despite his promise he couldn't keep himself away from me.

His warm breath fanned across my ear and neck while his hands helped unknot another string grid before us.  I swallowed tightly, trying to keep myself from leaning back. But the knowledge was there; if I did, he was only an inch behind me; an unmovable wall of heat that would engulf me if given the chance. I fumbled with the knot, guiltily tempted. But those fantasies never got their light of day.

Hayden finished his knot first and stepped away to let me finish mine. I held onto the string for a moment, like it was the only thing keeping me up, before finally finding the mental clarity to continue. But reality was something I wished I could avoid forever.

Beneath the string in my hands was the image of a teacher. Those brown eyes were clear and defined. Jackson's eyes. Though the rest of the mural had been repainted with a second cloak; concealing his identity into that of anonymity... those eyes were the same. They belonged to that of a man who had sinned. Of a man who had hurt me.

I backed away from the stone and gazed up high. My memory was precise; I could see them all so clearly. The numerous murals above me all held secrets under their skin and despite the lies I repainted over them... I could feel their presence overwhelmingly.