Phoenix's Lies

You Weren't Supposed To Save Me!

Phoenix

It was a difficult week, the one following seeing Riv's mom for the last time. It was like before I found out at her ED. The same pattern of her pulling away. Taciturn responses. Distance. The same pain, except this time it is harder to ignore with the memory of finding her that evening.

She'd been gone a long time. Ten minutes turned to twenty. Turned to thirty. Forty. Finally, an hour had passed and she still hadn't turned up so I said I'd go find her, knowing that she wasn't ok, no matter what she'd been saying before. Knowing that she was hurt in the way even when she'd smiled before I could see the pain in her eyes, a shade of which I have no name for even though I've thought about it over the week. How to help. To make her see she's not alone. Not what her mother calls her.

And yet the image of finding her collapsed in the bathroom shower and screaming into her knees seemed to break something inside me at the sight of how hurt she was even under the strong front she puts on for the rest of the world. Reminded me of the fragile girl I knew growing up who always used to find me when she needed a hug. Never any words, speech wasn't necessary, she'd just turn up with sad eyes and hold out her arms, asking for a hug. For someone to tell her everything will be ok and that she can be a kid. That she can cry and not be judged. That she can tell the world how hurtful it is. How hurt she is. No matter what.

I try to pick her up as best I can but it's a hard task since she doesn't open up the same way, needing time to process her trauma the way I've seen her do before. Suffering alone until she cracks and lets someone in, usually me but I won't push her to if she'd rather it be someone else. But it's hard. Hard hearing the nightmares, whether they're causing her to wake up screaming or in tears. Tears are the worst since she'll wake up, take a second and then I'll hear the sound of her crying softly into her hand, one over her mouth and one around her front as if she's trying to hold herself together. But either way, by the time she's ready to try and sleep again she snuggles down next to me and puts her head on my chest, her throat sore and occasionally still crying even as I look to see that her eyes are closed. The knowledge that she looks to me for strength somehow makes me realise even more how much she cares and leans on me the way I asked her to. Doing the same when our roles are reversed. Seeing that she only starts to do it when my arms go back around her and she feels like she's safe since her body loses some of its tension.

But alongside the hurt, I'm angry too. Angrier than I've been in a long time now that I've seen with my eyes how abusive her mother is. The same as how I was mad when I saw her ex raping her at that party. Something that persuades me to finally take up Ash's previous offer of help with dealing with it before it swallowed me. Something that given my IED diagnosis is one thin line away from ending up back in juvie. Something I'd like to avoid at all costs. And it helps. It helps to be able to know that when I needed to get rid of the aggression I could do, even with him saying he could train me like he does Riv. An offer I was hesitant to agree to so said I'd wait, maybe not, I'd wait and see how well it works without it since I'd rather never hurt someone again if I could help it. Not with the memories already there for that reason.

That's where I am when I get the call from Ari almost a week later. I'd been doing some practice alone having gotten in with my key when my phone went and I stopped. Finding it on the other side of the room I take the tape off my hands and slide to answer it. "Hey Ari, you ok?"

"Hey, Nix. Have you seen Riv?" Her tone is rushed and a sense of fear settles in my gut when she does so. "Nix? Where are you and have you seen Riv?"

"Out and in what time frame are you asking?"

"Last hour or so, she vanished from school and I know you're not here or I'd have seen you. She isn't answering her phone and I can't figure out where she'd go. Reckon she's gone home?"