“Are you sure you want to do that, son?” he says as he walks up to me.
“I’m sure that I need to do it,” I tell him and only glance at him briefly.
“There aren’t any answers at the bottom of that bottle. The pain may be gone, but it’s only numb. It’s going to be there until you deal with it. The longer you bottle it up, the harder it’s going to be,” he says.
“I hear what you are saying, but I just can’t right now dad,” I tell him and, from the corner of my eye, I see him nod his head before getting up and leaving.
Memories try to overcome me as I bring the glass to my lips.
“We’re going to grow old together, Tyson. I’m going to be around so much that you are going to get sick of me,” Stacey says as we are lying in bed together after the love making which followed her acceptance of becoming my Old Lady.
I don’t remember ever feeling happier than when she accepted my cut.
It has been hours and we still haven’t left the bedroom.
“I don’t think that I could ever get sick of you,” I tell her as I pull her towards me and kiss her deeply.
I squeeze my eyes closed as tears threaten to break free.
“You lied,” I whisper to the silent room.
I finish my glass and grab another without another thought.
It takes another glass of whisky before the feelings of devastation settle and turn into a dull numb.
Brothers move around the room, but they avoid me.
I have just become a lump in the Clubhouse; only being there when needed.
Before, I would sit around and bullshit with my brothers and work on my bike, but I can’t bring myself to bring my dark cloud into their empty lives.
How do you just move on from something like this?
I can’t begin to understand how Ella came from tragically losing her husband to falling in love with Damien.
My mind drifts to Camilla through my drunken haze.
You can tell that she’s something special. The shit she has been through would be enough to bring anyone down.
I can see a strong woman buried inside there.
The comfort she needed from my presence and touch was strong, and I don’t know how to feel about that.
Why would someone take comfort in me? Why am I her safe place?
I drink more whisky until the thoughts of her fade.
I shouldn’t be thinking about her.
Stacey may be gone, but she’s still my Old Lady.
I’m nothing but a drunken mess and I feel arms surround me, helping me to stand as I start to stagger.
I blink a couple times and my eyes focus on my dad and Bear. They both look at me with pity and I fucking hate that.
If I could walk by myself, I would storm out of here.
It takes a few minutes. I don’t bother to look at anyone else because I know I will see more looks of pity and I don’t need that shit right now.
They don’t know what it’s like, or what my head feels like.
I’m dumped on the bed and I feel hands take off my shoes as I try to pass out. Soothing words that I don’t deserve to hear are spoken.
I feel fingers brush my hair out of my eyes.
“Go to sleep, my boy. I wish I could take this pain from you. It kills me to see you like this,” I hear my mother say before the darkness takes me under.
Camilla
Days of going to self-defence and the therapist have slowly helped. I’m nowhere close to where I want to be, but I know I will get there.
I am able to talk and spend more time with my family than when I first came home and locked myself in my room.
It will be awhile before I’ll feel safe and secure enough to leave the house on my own.
The bear that Tyson got me helps completely. I worry that the smell of his cologne will go away; but today a small bottle showed up and, as soon as I smelled it, I knew it was from him.
When my brother had seen it, he looked at me with raised eyebrows. I couldn’t help but blush as I explained, but when he saw it helped me get through the night, he didn’t question it.
We just left the gym from another self-defence lesson and are climbing into my brother’s vehicle.
“I need some new clothes. Can we stop at the store?” I ask quietly.
My brother nods his head. “Yeah sure. Anywhere in particular?”
I shake my head. “No. I just need some longer shirts and some leggings.”
“Of course,” he says. He knows that the new clothes are to cover myself completely. Not only do I have scars on my body, I have them on my arms and legs too. I don’t know if I ever will want to wear a t-shirt or tank top again, but I know that I’m nowhere near ready to yet.
I can’t help but slightly panic when the store comes into view. My palms feels sweaty, my hands are shaky, and my breathing gets heavier.
“Just breathe, Cami. I’ll be right beside you the whole time,” my brother reassures me with a gentle squeeze of my hand.
I blow out a breath and reach the door handle with a shaky hand.
“Okay, let’s do this,” I say in a quiet voice. I hate how weak I sound now.
I cannot let them win. They may be gone, but if I don’t overcome this then they still win. They did not break me.
I walk into the store holding my brother’s arm in a death
