|
Post by NELL DOE DALE on Aug 18, 2012 22:14:54 GMT -5
In some distant and aware part of her mind, Nell could feel the presence of others around her, moving, talking. But they were phantoms, felt but not seen or fully acknowledged. Glass crunching. Josh's voice again. It was all somehow recognized by her, even though she'd managed to turn off all the lights, close the blinds, board up the windows. Her mind was blank, or rather a black slate of nothing. She was just sounds and shadows and hollowness. That was it, she was empty. It was like her body had a natural reflex as effective as a Fort Knox security system, flooding everything when a breach was recognized.
The contact startled her when Josh put his arm around her, and she hadn't realized that he had even come over to her until that moment. Her first noise since the one word plea to Bryce was a small whimper, the sound of a wounded dog making n an effort to move. But she was alert again, aware that she was breathing and taking those breaths deep. Her insides felt icy cold, and attributed that to the temperature in the house. Upon the return to sensibility and hearing Josh speak to her, she wanted to retreat again. Nell lifted her head, moved her arms down to cradle them in her legs. As she stared off at nothing, her eyes vacant, she forgot about pain in her arm from where Bryce had put out his cigarette. She was home, shattered glass on the tiles, but no one else except Josh was there. She'd forgotten that her fiance had said anything, not thinking that he may have been worried about what happened.
After moments passed, she remembered that she could speak and communicate with Josh. "I..." Weak and unable to finish, her mouth stayed open like she had plans to finish that statement. Disorientation claimed her as she looked around. She felt like she had just been sleeping for a long time and had been forcefully awakened. The span of time that had passed felt very short, and she didn't remember what happened during. That is until she felt a throb in her arm and she lifted it up so that it would be visible to Josh too. The sight of it made her bite her lip, some kind of emotion forcing its way up into her throat. "I am so messed up," she said quietly, a lingering memory in her head.
She still didn't remember how long it had been since Bryce burned her and what had happened in the duration, but she felt sick. Like when she was locked in that closet and thought she was going to die before Josh found her. It had all been in her mind, and she felt a severe and unreasonable self-loathing. Or was it self-fear? It terrified her how her mind had betrayed her like that. She was disoriented and confused, and turned her head into Josh's chest, gripping his shirt just in case she would cry. She felt very damn near.
|
|
|
Post by JOSHUA DONOVAN DALE on Aug 19, 2012 4:44:42 GMT -5
He did not flinch when she whimpered but rather hesitated, unsure if he should pull his arm away. It had been like a reflex to offer physical comfort but he didn't want to make her uncomfortable. He pulled his hand back very slightly, then changed his mind and rested it where it had been before. He needed to make sure that she was all right and if she made it clear that she had a problem with his being there, only then would he pull away. They were engaged and he was not the enemy. Maybe she had thought it was Bryce, back for more. He had no idea of the inner turmoil she'd faced when the burn had triggered her memories—hell, he wasn't even aware there was a burn yet. All he knew was that there was something wrong with Nell and he was scared. Fear wasn't something he dealt with a whole lot but when someone you loved started behaving oddly, it was natural to be a bit concerned.
If he was worried, it was nothing compared to the lurch in his stomach when she lifted her head and he saw the vacancy in her gaze. He opened his mouth and closed it again, realising that although he wanted to ask her something, he wasn't quite sure what it was or how to begin putting it into words. "Are you all right?" was still the only thing that came to mind. He'd already asked, more out of instinct than sensibility, for it was obvious that she wasn't. Nell spoke and he started, focusing an intense and searching gaze on her, but she seemed to lose heart halfway through and give up. What do I do? Helplessness was one of the more infuriating feelings he'd ever had to deal with. He wanted to help but he didn't know the problem and so he didn't know how to so much as begin fixing it. "What is it?" he prompted, his voice quiet. It sounded loud in the silence of the kitchen, for even the constant hum of the fridge was not enough to fill the room.
Rage flashed across his expression like a fork of lightning and he was almost up and on his feet to go hunt his brother down before logic and reasoning reminded him that jail was not somewhere they'd permit homicide. Instead he stiffened against her and the anger burned in his gray eyes, expression dark. He didn't know what to say, couldn't find words to voice his hatred. He'd thought that Rafael had reached the limits of hatred when he'd punched Nell but this... this was so much worse, this was so much more personal, this had put Nell into a state of god-knows-what. In the end, when words escaped him, he gave an irritated grunt and set his jaw. It got worse, mixing with indignation when she spoke those quiet words. "No," he said, and his tone was a bit too rough for the situation. Realising, he tried again a little more softly, "No, no you're not. Why would you think that? Did he say something?" He still hadn't caught on to the fact that it was a trigger, that Bryce wasn't the extent of the problem at all.
He didn't want to look at the burn, didn't want to see the ugly mark marring her skin. It was not the fact that it was an unpleasant sight but that it caused her pain that made him hate it. She had other scars, they'd never bothered him before because he'd not been around for their creation. This was different. He couldn't bring himself to look away for several seconds but at last he dragged his eyes up to hers. "I could do something about it," he said. "Do you want me to?" Normally he'd have just done it without asking but she was in a mood that he described to himself as fragile right now, he didn't want to do anything that might upset her. He didn't know how to handle this. He tightened his grip around her shoulders when she gripped his shirt, wishing he knew what he could do to make all of this go away. Why were there never any simple solutions? "Will you be all right, Nell?" He was scared that the answer would be 'no' but he forced that fear from his voice. He needed to support her.
|
|
|
Post by NELL DOE DALE on Aug 19, 2012 19:44:30 GMT -5
Not looking at him, she didn't notice how angry he was until he spoke. Josh sounded so sure, but how could he be when he knew so much about her? Didn't he think that she was messed up just from knowing her as long as he did, going through what she had put him through? And how could she explain it to Josh? How could she go into the fact that there were problems in her head that she was afraid of, that wouldn't be fixed with any sort of medication or therapy. He already knew it, he understood what he was getting into being with her. But she was too shaken to even begin to tell him that the things had been dredged up from the black box in her mind, things she forgot when going about her daily business, could affect her so severely. "No," she said with a steady calm that came with being emptied out. Bryce couldn't hurt her directly no matter how hard he tried, but he could do something to bring back old pain.
Nell looked at her arm. He was the one person who she could speak to about the simple existence of her mother. No one else knew anything about the woman. And yet she didn't know how to bring this up, how to say it. "It just reminded me of...the past." Just wasn't a good word for that. It wasn't 'just' when it caused a mental breakdown. "I can't fix it, you know," she said casually. "Everything that's wrong with me. I can't change it." She didn't expect anything from him, but she wanted explain what was messed up about her. If she could fix herself or get over it, she would be saying something different. She would be shrugging it off as nothing and using it to make her stronger. But that wasn't how it was, she couldn't control what her mind did. Like how it shut out memories, only to bring them about like this. She couldn't hate Bryce for that, at least. It hadn't been his intention, but he was probably happy about it.
The burn hurt, but it was bearable now as opposed the searing pain from before, the skin red and blistered. She didn't want it to scar, so she nodded her head, looking up at Josh. "Yeah, please," she said. At least she didn't sound scared. It was an inner fear, something that twisted her stomach and manifested as a coldness she couldn't shake. Imminent threat was gone, she was okay. Pulling back from Josh, she swallowed back tears that were still trying to force their way to her eyes whenever she thought about how much she hated herself for putting him through this. "I'll be fine, I'm just...shaken." Admitting fear would only make it worse for him, and just as he was being careful with her, she was being careful with him. She wanted to shake this off and act like it was nothing, because of the fear that he wouldn't be able to deal with it. Her father didn't know how to handle her mother and left. Josh had proved himself to be a better man than her father, but there was so much one person could take. "What happened to Bryce?" she asked, unaware that the police had come and taken him off.
|
|
|
Post by JOSHUA DONOVAN DALE on Aug 22, 2012 7:07:43 GMT -5
His brows furrowed with confusion and intensified concern. If it wasn't Bryce who'd said something, what was it? He wished that he'd never left her to go up and grab his phone but he also realised that they couldn't have called the cops in time if he hadn't. Maybe if I'd stayed and she'd went... No, he couldn't afford the guilt or anything like that. What was done was done. Instead of allowing the thoughts to continue, he did his best to shut them out as he looked at her expectantly, wondering if there was going to be some kind of explanation for the breakdown she'd suffered.
When it came, he wasn't sure what to say at first. He knew what she meant by the past, he remembered the things he'd heard at the trial and the things that she'd told him herself. His throat tightened in sympathy and he chewed the inside of his lip as he cast about for something to say. What did you say to that? "Oh..." It made him angry, too, the idea that his brother had brought up such awful memories, but the anger was subdued by his desire to comfort her. He wished, not for the first time, that he was better at doing so. Joshua touched her arm, careful to avoid the burn. "No one's asking you to," he said quietly. "There's nothing..." He had to stop himself before he said the wrong thing. There was something wrong but he didn't see it that way. He pressed his lips together in frustration, not at her but at the fact he couldn't find the right words.
"You went through a lot," he managed at last. She had. More than he could ever imagine going through. "You're tough, Nell. A lot of people couldn't handle that." She hadn't lost her mind thanks to all of the abuse, she hadn't turned into a bitter and homicidal maniac, she hadn't committed suicide due to depression. He saw that as a kind of an inner strength. He didn't know what he'd have done if he was in her place. He'd had issues with his family like most people did in their lifetime but nothing as bad as hers. Not nearly as bad as hers. "I don't think you're messed up." She had a lot wrong but it didn't change the way he thought about her. No one was perfect. Messed up was what he thought of when his brother came to mind. He remembered his panic when she'd told him she might be crazy like her mother was. That had frightened him, that had caused doubt. They were past that now and he didn't think there was anything her mother could have done to make him love her any less.
He nodded when she agreed to let him help her and he worked quietly and carefully to repair the damage that his brother had done. He nodded when she said that she'd be fine, and though he wondered how true it was he didn't press her further. She'll be okay, he told himself. She has to be. He didn't know what he'd do if she wasn't all right. It would shatter him. There were downsides to loving a person that weren't always counted on, like the fact that their pain became yours as well. He was surprised when she asked about Bryce, remembering how she'd been in the area the whole time. Did she really shut everything out? A lump formed in his throat but he forced himself not to panic, repeating the mantra that she'd be fine and clearing his throat to answer, "They arrested him. So long as we press the charges, he'll probably be in jail for a while." Not long enough, in Josh's opinion, but at least it would be a brief reprieve. Pausing for only a moment, he asked, "We... are pressing charges, right?" He wouldn't do anything that she didn't want to but he really hoped she wouldn't refuse.
|
|
|
Post by NELL DOE DALE on Aug 26, 2012 5:17:03 GMT -5
Nell was coming down slowly from her suspended state of terror, though there was the residual effect of being afraid for no clear reason. She knew that they'd only been memories, but that did not aid in her upset, it possibly made everything worse. And she didn't expect anything from Josh. He already gave enough by dealing with her on a day-to-day basis, though this certainly was not a day to day scenario. The simply fact that she was abused most of her life was enough evidence that there would be issues with her, deep-seated problems. She didn't need to be treated delicately, didn't want that, but there was always the acknowledgment that she did not have a good past. He seemed to fumble with his words, and she wanted to say that he didn't have to go on or try and tell her something to make her feel better. I want to change. She didn't want to be this way, hated the idea that memories could still affect her as if she'd never left them behind.
It might have been a good potime to confess everything constantly weighing on her mind, to get it off her chest. But she didn't like to do that with anyone. It wasn't their cross to bear, and there was nothing any outside force could do to make it better. She'd tried therapy, and she showed the man just how much she loved to open up to people. She simply listened to Josh's words, and it felt nice to hear that she was a strong person because she tried to be. Times like these she just didn't feel it. Though whenever hearing stories of children like her, people kept captive by kidnappers for years, or abused by their parents...it made her realize how much worse it could have been, and at the same time made her want to help the people not so lucky as her. Because she was the luckiest person on the planet. Realizing she had the comfort of her partner, the fact she could go to bed without fear of not waking up in the morning, all these things that people took for granted—it helped calm her. It was wonderful to hear that Josh didn't think she was messed up. But she was not as kind to herself. ”Thanks,” she murmured, and though it was clear by her detached look that she was still not entirely present, she was at least better than she was before.
Nell let him heal the burn, glad that she didn't have to deal with scarring because she knew how ugly it got. She didn't like to think that people actually did it to themselves to feel like badasses. She nodded when Josh told her that his brother had been arrested, and good riddance. She believed that a hospital would be a better place than jail, and she said this when he asked about charges. ”When we do press charges...will they put him in a hospital? Because I don't think jail really is the best place for someone like him.” The reason for his attack had been out of rage, but the kind that needed treatment and medication for.
|
|
|
Post by JOSHUA DONOVAN DALE on Aug 26, 2012 11:19:01 GMT -5
Though he wished that there was more he could do to help, Josh was forced to face the fact that he couldn't alter Nell's mindset. He couldn't alter the way her brain worked, he couldn't get rid of the memories, he couldn't do anything like that. So instead he settled for being supportive and as understanding as an outsider of the situation could be and hoped it would be enough. It seemed to be enough for her in the way she thanked him and his lip twitched into a brief smile in response. He rested a hand on hers and squeezed it, saying nothing.
He took note of the way she worded it, when they pressed charges and not if, and that reassured him. His expression darkened slightly when a hospital was mentioned. "I don't care where they put him," he said bitterly. "I don't give a shit what happens to him as long as he never comes near us again." It was cold and detached but it was the truth as he saw it. Maybe he would have been capable of sympathy if Nell had not been brought into the picture or if Bryce had never locked his cat in the sitting room. If it had just been the rivalry between the two brothers and it hadn't became so personal he might have been capable of understanding. He could never forgive, he wouldn't allow himself to go that soft, but he would have tried his best to work around it. He didn't feel that urge now. He stared at Nell for a long moment, though, frowning as he realised something. "Do you? Care, I mean."
He would never understand how empathetic she was in comparison to him. Sometimes he admired her ability to give people second chances or take pity on their mental state but other times it exasperated him. He wasn't sure which one it was right now. He exhaled slowly and glanced around the kitchen. It still bore the signs of the argument and attack and he was aware that they'd need to go about cleaning all of that up. We'll need to call for a replacement, he thought when his gaze fell upon the shattered remains of the window. You couldn't spackle a window. There was blood, too, his brother's and his own. He hoped Bryce's wounds were hurting like a bitch now. He turned his attention back to Nell. "If you want," he said slowly, "we can find out. I hate him, Nell, I really do, and I think he deserves whatever he gets, but if it makes you feel better I'll give them a call." Sometimes he thought Bryce would be treated too kindly in a mental institution. They'd probably treat him like he didn't understand what he'd done. Remembering his brother's confusion when he'd first learned that he'd tried to kill Josh, maybe he didn't. Josh didn't care any more.
Using the edge of the counter for support, he got to his feet and cursed loudly when he put weight on the foot that he'd cut. He hadn't been thinking about it and so the pain had shocked him into reaction. "Ugh. Stepped on some glass, I'll need to look at it later." Maybe he'd get out the bottle of Everclear and disinfect it, which hurt like a bitch but did the job quite well. "I guess I'd better start clearing up." He didn't know if Nell would want to help or not, wasn't sure if she just wanted to sleep or if she would feel better doing something. So he didn't ask and left the choice up to her.
[Figure it can either end here or with your post? Woulda poked you on Skype but you weren't on xD]
|
|
|
Post by NELL DOE DALE on Aug 28, 2012 10:32:39 GMT -5
She guessed she expected Josh's response, that he hated his brother so much it didn't matter what happened to him. Still, Nell could admit to herself that she hated seeing him like that even though he had a complete right. She just wished he didn't have to have a brother who was a horrible person. Nell looked away, thinking about the fact that she actually did want to do something. She shouldn't. She remembered how angry she'd gotten when she found Bryce trying to kill Josh, when she found him in Annabel's room, and the fact that he'd been the only person to drive her to physical confrontation. And Josh hated him even more, yet she couldn't just leave him to rot in prison without her conscience in the way. As she was considering this, Josh asked her the question, and she looked back at him, guilt behind her gaze when she considered what she was about to say. "I...don't want to. You know, care about what happens to him. But I do." Usually she wouldn't have thought twice about her desire to help others, but this was Bryce. She didn't even think he cared about his own recovery. But who knew. Maybe he did want to get better in his saner moments, and wouldn't that be better? In her rebellion to everything her family stood for, this included abandoning people when they were obviously not right in the mind. Wouldn't it be better to do something about it than leave it completely alone.
Knowing that Josh didn't want anything to do with his brother anymore, though, made thoughts like that difficult to cope with. She wanted what he wanted, but she also wanted to somehow find a way to make this better for everyone. There may have been no such thing as healing for people like Bryce, maybe, but there was things that could aid in it. She hadn't even noticed the blood, the fact that Josh was injured, so out of it she was because of her complete shutdown. At that point, noticing blood she simply thought it was because of Bryce's intrusion. Josh offered to find out, and it meant a lot considering he didn't want to. For a moment she battle between what may end up making a change that she'd want for anyone suffering from mental illness, and what Josh wanted. "If...you can. It'd be nice. I mean, I shouldn't care after everything he's put us through. I just don't think I can ignore it." Was it because her family did just that? Everyone Mia ever knew abandoned her, including her husband and sister, because she had problems that no one took the time to look into. She'd be just like them if she allowed herself not to take into consideration that Bryce was ill.
It was only when Josh stood and cursed about his foot that she'd been hurt too, and at first she wondered if Bryce had done anything until he explained that he'd stepped on the glass. The fact that he said 'later' had her mouth forming into a pout. "That comes first, you should look at it now." Her voice wasn't very commanding, because for one it was difficult for her to sound like that at all, and for another she was still shaken from the event, just as she'd told him. She wanted to be able to shake this off, because the stress was tight in her muscles and it was uncomfortable, simply put. Like she wasn't really in reality and she was fearing that somehow her past would become reality just because she'd thought of it. Looking out the window, she murmured, "Yeah," realized just how much collateral damage Bryce had caused. She stood, figuring that she wouldn't leave the mess to him. And maybe she could take her mind off of the jitters she was experiencing.
|
|