Save Me

Chapter Twenty-Five

"I am never satisfied. I always want more. I always want to get better. I always want to climb another step."

-Rihanna

♔ Chapter Twenty-Five ♔

Cornwall ran along coastlines of white and gold sand beaches, and further into the county one went, all the way to Land's End - where England meets her Channel - the usual murky green or dark blue sea would become translucent and light, warm-looking, and inviting.

Ever since I was a child, Cornwall seemed like a warm and angelic place - blue skies and even bluer seas, a world where I had at first felt safe. I was a kid, and I grew up near the seaside, with the smell of seaweed and saltwater, mingled with the scent of the fish 'n chip shop nearby.

Sailboats lined every horizon, but the towns were small and close-knit, possibly even picturesque to the ignorant eye. It seemed like one of those magical places on Earth, but underneath I knew it was all lies. Cornwall was the place I grew up, so inevitably I couldn't wait to escape and leave it behind.

It all felt like a long dream to me now, so long ago that I may as well have been an entirely different person. Someone unburdened by the realities of life, being cocooned in a childish world where I felt protected. By my mother, or maybe even my father in my earliest memories. It was only after my mum died, and my brother too, that my childish imagination was destroyed. The bubble popped, and I saw the bare world for what it was. I saw my father for what he was, and endured him for years, and I kept asking myself even to this day - why?

Why did I put up with it, and with him, for so long? I guess when you're a kid, it's hard to imagine a world beyond your own neighbourhood, your own problems.

The capital city of Cornwall, Truro (which was really more of a large town), was too inland to see any oceans in the horizon. I could never get used to that. I grew up near the sea, and it always made me feel close to a great escape, not tied to the land or stuck hours from the ocean. It comforted me, and eased me to hear thunderous waves crashing nearby, or seagulls and swallows cawing and chirping.

All you could hear in Truro were sirens from the police station down the road at all hours of the night, cars zapping to and fro, and the general noise of the busy thoroughfare below the hotel, out beyond the window that overlooked the Cornish landscape.

I'd been up late into the night, watching out the window or at Darby, asleep in the bed. Sometimes I would lie beside him, but by the time the sun was coming up I found myself at the other end of the room. It felt wrong being in bed with him, looking at him while he slept. His presence alone felt strange to me. He was a part of my past, something I knew I couldn't change. He could forgive me for what I'd done, but neither of us had the power to change it.

Besides, I quickly realised that I couldn't stand being near him. I didn't want to let myself fall so fast, not again, and not after what happened the last time with Luke. I didn't trust him, kept telling myself over and over - I didn't really know him. I hadn't seen him for years, and yet he'd came sauntering back into my life, careless and psychotic.

What was worse - I let him back in, and that was a big mistake. As soon as I saw him on those cliffs, I knew I should have gotten back in my car and left. But I didn't. Something inside of me - the regret or remorse, the guilt - made me turn back. It made me climb that cliff to its edge, to ask him if he was okay, to help him. It was the only way I thought I could redeem myself, but now it felt like a mistake.