Cut (26 page)

Before I could muster up more words to reply, he was gone.

Approaching the familiar deep green hedges along the footpath, I gulp before turning my eyes to the elegant white rendered walls to Rosie’s terrace. The front facade is a bitter sweet sight. The beauty of the home so neatly presented on this street holds an abundance of emotions. Only a night or two ago I had left here in a deep blackened hole, near impossible to climb out of alive and in one piece. Such a stark contrast to how it appears before me right now.

“Are you sure you are ready to do this?” Evans anxious tone cuts off my thoughts as I turn my head towards him. I force a smile.

“I can handle it."

Can I?

He reaches his hand over toward mine, gently covering my face down palm on the passenger seat to his BMW. My eyes move slowly toward his touch. His hand was so warm, so gentle, so familiar. It felt comforting, which is the obvious result of a lifetime of love we had shared. The drive had not been as awkward as what I initially thought it would be. We had managed to spend most of it chatting about random unimportant things and when we had run out of conversation the music was put up too loud. I couldn’t explain it, except it was easy with Evan. So many years of really knowing each other and spending so much time with one another, just made everything contented. We knew each other’s little facial expressions, remarks, all of it; which made it effortless. Building something new even close to what we had would be difficult, maybe even impossible.  I take a brief inhale letting the feeling completely fill me for a split second, almost to let it give me strength or something before I see his mouth open.

“I would do anything Penny. Anything, to have this again.”

His sincere words are so brutally honest and heartfelt, that I can’t help but turn my gaze to his. To see his broody brown eyes glisten with an almost tear was unbearable to witness, but I could feel the former anger and hatred I had felt for Evan over these past months start to dissipate. I press another smile, slowly wriggling my palm out from underneath his grasp.

“Evan, I can’t discuss this now."

“I know, I know. It’s just I wanted, I needed you to hear that. To really know that. That's all,” he shrugs shyly.

Staring at him in this moment, it honestly feels like I had never left him. Bizarre considering the events passed, but true despite the fact. Could I really give this another shot with him? After everything could I let myself fall back in love with him?

Could I?

“I know,” is all I could manage to respond, despite so many more words filling my thoughts.

“If there was any way you could ever... you know. I would spend my life making this whole mess up to you Penny. You deserve the world. I love you so much.” Tears trickled ever so subtly down his cheeks and I could tell that this time together meant the world to him. He was giving this moment everything he had. After months of separation and probably thinking this opportunity would never surface. Who would have thought shifting the blame to someone else I cared about would assist me in moving closer to forgiving him.

Could I really forgive him?

I think I could. But forgiving a person for such a mistake and going back down the same road are two completely separate issues and I couldn’t delve into that right now. I had to do, what I had came here to do.

“I know Evan. I know.”

I take a deep breath and glance over my shoulder towards Rosie’s front door and fumble my hands inside my bag for the key.

“I have to go, get this over with before I change my mind,” I mumble to myself.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?”

“And risk seeing you two together? Are you kidding me?” I quip back harshly, a routine that hasn’t quite shifted its ways just yet. Immediately I see his hurt look from my cutting words. “Sorry,” I add, not really meaning it.

“It’s okay, can’t say I don’t blame you for that.”

Feeling a little bad for my outburst and I only mean slightly, as he was right – he did deserve it; I lean toward him and peck him ever so lightly on his cheek. Allowing the hairs from his stubbly cheeks to tickle my soft lips the way they used to. As I lean back in my chair, I notice the astonishment in his eyes at my impulsion.

“Thank you for the ride,” I whisper, and as I take a deep breath I turn away from him and open the car door; stepping onto the kerb and closing it behind me in one fluid movement. I stare at the facade of the house and prepare for my inevitable confrontation with
her
.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come back and get you?” Evan calls through the passenger window.

“I’m fine, I will call a taxi to take me to a hotel,” I reply over my shoulder before adding, “Thanks.”

He looks torn, but having come so far today he didn’t push further. He simply smiles before taking off down the street. I stood motionless watching his white vehicle beam off into the sunset until it was completely out of sight.

It’s time Penny.

Blowing out my enormous breath I head down the cement pathway towards the door. The prominent red paint appears larger and larger, as I get each stride closer. I could feel my heart rate rise with each and every step. Imagining the entire conversation with Rosie, what I could say and how she would respond was all playing out in my head like a television sitcom. The scenes, rolling over and over in my mind were making me even more nervous and jittery. Finally reaching my destination I raise my unsteady hand.

Knocking three times on the door, I anxiously wait for a response.

No answer.

I try again, rapping on the timber a little firmer this time. Waiting.

Still, no answer.

Using the key I had gotten out of my purse earlier, I unlock the front door and carefully swing it open.

“Hello? R-Rosie?” I stutter, calling from the entrance, still outside on the porch. Glancing my eyes from side to side there doesn’t appear to be any sign of her. The house is deathly silent.

As quietly as I could, I step into the familiar home and carefully close the door behind me. I continue darting my sight around imagining I would see her sombre face peek out from either side of me. But still nothing. I exhale loudly as though I had been holding my breath that perhaps she wasn’t home. A fact I was hoping since it was a work day and all, but still, I wasn’t sure if she would have been up to going to work after our fallout the other night.

Hmph. Obviously it didn’t hurt her as much as I thought
,
my evil conscious snaps.

I head straight up the stairs towards my former bedroom and as delicately as possible, click open the door. Standing in the opening of my former cave this room holds so many terrible memories. Painful ones. The space darkened by the blinds as they are closed tight, the doona perfectly made and no stray clothing on the floor. It brings back recollections of how
she
used to come in and make the bed, tidy the mess on the floor as if she was my mother. Images of all those days, the conversations, how bad I felt for everything I had put her through, was manically replaying over and over. Sniffing hoarsely and wiping my eyes roughly, I needed to pull it together just long enough to be able to do this. I scan hastily over the room and spy my snake skin suitcase atop of the wardrobe and without another second I jog over to it. Standing on my tiptoes I reach for the case and yank it down, letting it slam to my feet. I carelessly open one drawer at a time and frantically grab a handful of clothing and toss them in the case. As soon as I had finished with the drawers, I speedily wander to the ensuite and switch on the lights. Not wanting to reminisce further about my previous experiences here, I make a beeline for the vanity and rake a handful of my makeup, dental hygiene, and other random things. Squishing the contents against my body as the pile overflows my hands. Juggling the items I carefully head out of the bathroom and let them fall out of my grasp into the case without care. I finish with a few wardrobe pieces until my bag is almost overflowing before zipping it up recklessly and heading for my exit. I turn back to take one last look at the room and before I get too emotional, I close the door behind me.

After making my way downstairs awkwardly, I stand the heavy case beside the front door before having an attack of the guilt's. I decide to go into the kitchen and leave her a note so she would know I took my things. Call me stupid, I know I was angry and didn’t want to see her, but it was the right thing to do. After all, I didn’t want her to think she had been robbed or something. This whole situation was terrible enough without being accused of being a thief as well. As I turn on the kitchen light I roll my eyes. It’s as annoyingly and immaculately clean as always. The small glass table under the lampshade where the monumental discovery had occurred, looked the same way it did the other night. As I take in my surroundings I am halted by a single rectangular piece of paper on the bench top. It curiously stood out since the kitchen was incredibly tidy and besides, any loose items were always tossed on the paper mache table never the granite counter top.  I take slow motion strides towards it, scared as to what else I may discover here. One by one and ever so subtly, I reach the bench and stare at the paper. It appears it’s a photo of some kind face down and sprawled in handwriting on the backside of it are the words ‘Penelope'. Intrigued, I reach for the photo and with my fingers trembling I take a nervous breath. I turn it over.

Immediately, my eyes well with tears. Looking at the two people in the photograph they look like strangers, but together, they look like a couple. A tragic smile hits my lips as I notice the over-the-top hats in the image. He was right, the navy cowboy hat did bring out my eyes as the vibrant blue strikes straight through the lens. And him. The obvious attractiveness beams through despite wearing the traditional Aussie swag which was definitely
not
him, but still, he pulled it off. His eyes didn’t need a complementing colour to bring them out, as they lightening through me as if they were here staring at me right now. The same chill runs up and down my spine, as the air around me becomes thicker somehow. It’s the photo I remember Jay taking of us on our first day in Sydney together.

How did it get here?

What was it doing here?

Did Jay drop this off here?

Has he been here?

Why.....

ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! 

OUCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Screaming in agony I clutch toward my stomach as the pain has hit me hard from my lower back into my belly.

Oh. My. God!

I can’t breathe.

I turn my blurred eyes downward toward my gut and all I see is dark blood stains on my clothing where the source of the pain punishes me harshly. My now bloody hands are quaking repetitively and I notice the blood stained photo float in slow motion toward the floor. I’m in a panic. Hyperventilating as the pain strikes harder. I clutch again at my abdomen.

What?

OUCH!

As I look up toward the bench everything has altered. Indistinct and muddled. I don’t feel like I’m in the same place. The excruciating pulse is all I can make out. I think I turn quickly letting everything go into a further blur, but wait. Is that a girl? A woman? Just beside me I think is a figure.

Rosie?

“Rose. Help,” I mime, as no sound appears to exit my mouth. Only screams of angst and intense agony. I glance down again to my stomach and am inundated by more blackened liquid gushing through my shirt. Over my hands. Onto the floor. I'm giddy.

I think I hear a faint knock on the door, heard just above the torturous screaming in my head.

As I look up again the figure is gone.

Rosie?

Hearing the knock again, a little clearer this time, I stumble. I stagger. As best as I can towards what I feel like is the door. This new place I am surrounded with is unfamiliar.

The pain has now altered to numbness. Suddenly I can’t feel anything. See anything clearly. I’m cold. I think I am in shock. I think I fumble my bloodied hand towards the door knob and try to manipulate my fingers so they open it. I’m unsure, but I see a familiar face before me.

“Help me...” I whisper.

Feeling like my wound had been cut over and over, and over again - finally it has found its peace. My hazy surroundings are finally suffocated by blackness.

‘Relief exists.

             I find it when...

                            I am
Cut
.’

“Tonight is going to be one crazy night man!”

Really?

The nights all seem to blur into one these days. Night after night, party after party, they all seemed the same. As we ease our way to the front of the line, I carefully scan the queue of people through my dark aviators.

“Oh my God! Can I have a photo? Oh I love you!”

An attractive, crimson haired woman comes into focus and eyes me seductively. I nod politely allowing her to take her photo with me. I feel her hand boldly grasp me on my ass and as I slowly meet her gaze, her intention is obvious. Another one that could be screwed tonight, so willingly and easily.

Does she even know me?

Know who I really am?

Of course not! But that didn’t matter to them. They all just wanted their piece and I had usually been so eager to give it to them. But something felt different tonight. Somehow. I was over it. All of it.

“Come on Jay!”

I follow my entourage through the front door and into the main corridor. The noise was deafening, but I liked it that way. It drowned out my thoughts and made me feel numb. I welcomed it. Within almost a millisecond several blondes make their way toward us past my security dressed in barely anything at all. I roll my eyes. More than likely courtesy of Amy, to ensure there were photos leaked to the media. It was all a part of the game. The image. They were the kind of company we usually liked at these things as it kept everyone happy. Our reputation of living the rock star life kept Management satisfied especially after all the work they did before to keep all the mess from spilling into the papers. It also ensured the safety of anyone close to me, not that
that
was an issue anymore. The boys all had their fun for the night, and me? Well I guess I had my fun too. However, the ‘fun’ wasn’t being felt lately. The kind of ‘fun’ I had given up years ago because I had to, was peeking its head up most recently. It was making it known that I actually missed it. This other lifestyle wasn’t doing it for me anymore, it wasn’t really a life – just an existence.

“Do you have another friend? I think our man may want company!” I look over and see Chris, our drummer, ask one of the whores. She smiles at me seedily through her bright red pout instantly making me imagine where she would want that lipstick to end up. I roll my eyes.

“Not really my type tonight,” I harshly respond looking straight through her, making her shy away insulted. I tap him on the shoulder ignoring her.

“I am going to grab drinks wait here.”

I tried not to drink that much anymore. A fucked up story about a man I thought was my father and his abuse when he was loaded. For years I never touched the stuff for fear I would turn out like him; before I discovered he actually wasn’t my real dad after mum finally told me the truth. It still haunted me though, seeing what the stuff could do to a person, so I never drank when I was with people I really cared about in case the shit ever changed me and I hurt someone. But to get through this existence sometimes I needed it. It was the only way I could manage through it without this existence killing me. This life, if you could call it that, felt like it was a knife being sadistically twisted with each and every day I had to endure it. I knew by the end it would undoubtedly be victorious.  Tonight had only begun and like so many previously, I was already desperate for it to end. If I didn’t have actual work to do tonight, I would already be out the door. Writing songs and playing on my guitar was the only thing I had left that made me feel remotely good.

How long could I keep this up for?

How long would it be until I actually melted into non-existence?

What I had before, I craved it. I knew it wasn’t possible again after everything that had happened, but deep down, I hoped things would be different. I wondered what she was doing and where she was. I had heard that she was happily married to an athlete of all things, but at least she was happy and was able to move on. At least she could have a normal life. After everything, I felt comfort in knowing that she found someone she loved, but equally wretched that it would never happen to me.

Would I ever be in a place that I could have that as well?

I doubted it. As long as I am doing this, it wasn’t possible. That much had been proven time and time again. It was too dangerous.

As I wander over towards the bar I see rows of people waiting already. I remove my glasses for the fact that I would have to use the ‘don’t you know who I am’ ploy to score some drinks faster and place them in my top pocket of my denim jacket.

"Please, just one drink?"

There is a man up ahead of me seedily coming onto this woman. As I eye him over while I wait, he looks like he is desperate. The type of guy that would do anything to get laid and I mean
anything
. The things I would notice as I people watched on nights like these. I never wanted to be at these things so to pass the time between my sets, it's all I ever did; and believe me when I say I saw some crazy fucked up shit that I wish I had never seen.

"Look there are still two people in front of us, please I insist to let me buy you a drink.”

Loser.

The things men had to go through to get laid.

"No th-thank you."

I hold my breath. The woman’s voice is laced with panic her reply sounding terrified. It wasn’t usually the response you hear at clubs when this happens and as a result I can’t help but to continue to overhear.

“Just one drink for the pretty lady.”

He should show some fucking respect and find a girl that doesn’t have to be forced.

"Thank you. I really appreciate the offer, but I have to politely decline."

The girls voice was sweet, innocent even. I am unsure why but she sounded desperate like she was begging silently for someone to help her. I’m not sure why I responded to it, but before I can stop myself I slide toward them until I am standing just behind her. I take a deep breath and inhale the scent of her beautiful ash blonde hair. A strange urge considering I didn't know her, but my body was robotically obeying some strange order that hadn't reached my head.

“There you are!” I intervene in assistance before I even know the words have escaped my mouth.

What the fuck am I doing?

I like to be invisible. Now she would see me.

As the woman turns to look at me I am shocked. Her piercing blue eyes staring straight at me send a bolt to my core. Her eyes are so open, painfully open. She looks so delicately fragile, that I almost don’t want to shout in case I break her. However, through all of it she is exquisite. Her fair skin glowing beneath her long locks and striking gaze magnetically pulls me in, unlike ever before. Allowing my brain to catch up for a moment, I glance forcefully toward the asshole who was trying to get between her legs; ensuring he got the picture to leave her the fuck alone. I know I was one not to talk about one night stands, but my lays were always willing participants. Almost
too
willing. I shudder at the way they used me for who I am.

"Sorry miss I didn't realise you were here with someone."

I smirk smugly.

He got the fucking picture.

I feel the air rapidly thicken as he scatters away leaving this angel in my presence, and in slow motion I turn my focus on her. I wait momentarily for her expression to alter as it did with most of the woman once they recognised me. The next look they gave me was definitely one with intent. But as I wait patiently for the next phase to occur – it doesn’t. Her gaze doesn’t waver the way I expected. She still looks confused.

As I stare back into her eyes I am concerned that her gaze alone could unman me. Would decipher anything going on in my brain, she just had that honest depth to her soul.

Who is she?

--------------------------------------------------

The same angel from that very first night lay before me. But the eyes I am looking into right now are cold, closed and lifeless. There is no sign of her innocence that captured my heart right away.

Was she alive?

I couldn’t bear to think that this was all happening again. I mean, I thought I had been much more careful this time. I fucking know I had! But the bloodied photo the officers found on her kitchen floor was proof that somehow, it was happening all over again. As I raise my hand delicately to her wrist, which is face up on the bed I gently stroke her soft pale skin letting the emotions fill me entirely. I know I should leave, I had to before everything got more out of control. But how could I now? I wasn’t sure she would be safe. This time was different somehow. The connection is far too strong for me to walk away. As I remove my hand from her skin I place both of my hands prayer like, leaning my elbows on the bedside in front of me. As I feel the wetness of a tear slightly drip from the corner of my eye I seal them tightly.

Please God. Please let her be alright.....