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Salvation; olivia/natalia
Topic Started: Sep 26 2009, 04:33 PM (430 Views)
Carly
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Chapter 11

Natalia


You glance into the rear vision mirror and Emma’s eyes from the back seat cut right into your soul. Those hurt, angry eyes. Olivia’s eyes. You begin to wonder how you could ever spend the rest of your life with those eyes looking up to you for answers. Emma stares at you, silently, accusingly. She has not uttered one single word in the six hours since you had taken her. You’d been driving that entire time, scared to stop. And you can’t remember the last time you slept before tonight. In your exhaustion you find yourself growing frustrated with her. You know she is just a kid, but you’re on your own here, seeking just the tiniest little bit of support from her, and she fights you all the way. It is almost enough to make you turn the damn car around and turn yourself in. Almost.

You stopped looking in the mirror after that. It was hours before you realised she had fallen asleep. She looked so peaceful. So innocent. Like the old Emma, still that same happy little girl who loves you, who needs you. You pull over to the roadside, hidden behind dense trees in the middle of nowhere. You climb into the back seat pulling her into your arms. In sleep she doesn’t struggle against you as you touch her. And for the first time in weeks, you sleep soundly with your daughters heart beating next to your own.

You will yourself to dream about the future, you and Emma. But you can’t do it. Instead you find yourself once again dreaming of Emma’s other mother. How she too looked so innocent and peaceful when she slept even though you knew there was so much going on under the surface. How she too shut you out at every turn, and yet asleep would let you hold her and comfort her, how she’d mumble things to you that you know she’d never say to you in a totally conscious moment. And how you’d tell her things that you’d never say to her face if she was awake.

You had finally got the truth out of Rafe about what happened in that shed. You hadn’t been able to crack Olivia, you knew you probably never would. The harder you tried, the further she retreated, the more vicious her counter attacks on you became. You gave up pretty quickly on getting a straight explanation out of her. But Rafe, you had known him since the day he was born, he couldn’t evade his mothers questions the way Olivia could. Finally, the next day, he had told you the truth.

You knew there was more to it than Olivia viciously attacking your son at random. But you were still shocked you when Rafe told you he had walked in and found Olivia with a knife at her own throat, instinctively he had grabbed her, and she had in return blindly swung around cutting into him. You don’t want to believe it, but you can picture it all too clearly.

“Why didn’t you tell me this yesterday?” You demand. But you’re not really angry at him, you’re angry at yourself. Panic fills you when you realise you had left early that morning to take Emma to school, that you hadn’t even laid eyes on Olivia since last night. That you had turned your back on her in that shed, walked out with your son and left her alone in there, with that knife, without so much as looking her in the eyes.

Your angry tone prompts an angry response from your son. “You’re angry at me? I’m not the crazy lunatic walking around with a knife with my kid just metres away in the house, I’m not the one who was given the most precious gift of life, that gift that someone else paid for with their own life, I’m not the one trying to throw that away. Really Mom, wake up. You can’t help her, you can’t save her. Olivia needs some professional help, seriously, she is completely insane. And she is walking all over you.”

You understood he missed his father, that he was jealous of Olivia and Emma and the place they held in your life since his incarceration. You understood that Olivia frustrated him, she frustrated you too. But couldn’t stand there any longer arguing with him. You turned without a word in Olivia’s defence, or your own, and set off to find her, knowing that you had caused this. Seeing for the first time your son as a grown man, not a little boy. Seeing for the first time someone needing you more than Rafe did. Realising for the first time that Rafe would never understand you and Olivia, and that you would both have to come to terms with that.

You searched high and low before finding that Olivia hadn’t even left the house that morning. It wasn’t like her. The Olivia you knew would have been running around doing ten different things at once. It shocked you to find her still in bed at 11am. You hadn’t seen her like this for a long long time, since after the transplant. You stood in the doorway watching her sleep, making sure she was in fact breathing before you approached her.

You sat watching her silently, the way you had watched Rafe sleep when he was just a baby. She seemed so peaceful that you didn’t want to wake her. But finally you called her name, “Olivia.” You whispered as you sat beside her on the bed.

“Go away.” She mumbled, turning over to face away from you.

You sat for a moment wondering how she could have sunk so very low without you realising. Sure she had been acting strangely lately, but you hadn’t seen this coming. How could she be here right in front of you in your very own house, too depressed to even get out of bed. Too despondent to even care about you seeing her in such a state.

Your eyes wandered to the side of her neck, seeing the angry red scratch mark the knife had left behind yesterday, corroborating Rafe’s story. You began to trace your hand over it, as if by touching it you would somehow understand. Her hand reached up angrily pushing yours away. “Go away.” She told you again, more forcefully, and your realised she wasn’t nearly as asleep as she would have you believe.

You didn’t know what to do at that point. And you sat still watching over her. Longing to touch her but too afraid. Wanting to wake her, to drag her out of bed, to yell at her to get her shit together. But she looks so peaceful lying there. So innocent and so small. And the last thing you wanted was another argument that you knew you would never win.

Finally you grabbed her wrist firmly with one hand to prevent her pushing you away, and with the other traced gently over that faint scratch upon her neck. You felt her wrist tense in your grasp but she made no move to push you away. You leaned in close and whispered in her ear. “Promise me, You’ll never do anything like that ever again.”

You feel her arm relax in your grasp and you let her go. One last time trace your fingers across her neck, softly kissing that spot as if you could kiss everything better, make it all ok.

“Promise me.” She mumbles so softly you wonder if you imagined it “That you’ll never leave me.”

Neither one of you made a promise that day. But you reached for her hand, and she held onto yours tightly, her eyes still closed. And you lay down beside her holding her close. Neither of you spoke again, and you closed your eyes alongside her, wishing that things could always be as simple as they seemed in that dark silent moment.

It was that moment you realised that you held the most precious thing to you right in your hands. It was that moment you realised you could never walk away from Olivia and Emma, your family. It was that exact moment you knew you had to break off this ridiculous engagement with Frank.

The next morning you awake to find Emma standing over you. The sun is shining already and you’ve lost valuable time. You rush to your feet, wondering how you could have slept so late. You tell Emma to put her seat belt on, to grab some food out of the bag. She obeys with her seat belt but refuses to eat. It could be worse, you tell yourself. She could have taken off while you were dead to the world, got lost in the woods. You would have to be more careful. Your hands shaking you grab the wheel and try to remember what direction you had come from last night.

“I hate you.” She announces as you pull away from the curb. “You’re not my mother and I hate you.” It is as if she needs to start her every day reminding you both of that fact. You know she doesn’t mean it, she is scared and hurt and angry, but it cuts right through you . And you want to tell her to please refrain from breaking your heart when you’re trying to drive the car, lest you crash and kill the both of you.

“I’m sorry you feel that way.” You manage to tell her.

Tears sprang to your eyes hearing that voice again. Her voice that was so much sweeter than how you had remembered it. And you wonder what Olivia’s voice would sound like if you could hear it again right now. You wonder if you could ever be capable of remembering it exactly. You wonder how many memories you had lost already. But you manage to pull yourself together, for Emma. You still have Emma. Emma needs you.

“I do have a question.” She speaks up in a small voice hours later.

“Go ahead.” You tell her.

“Why..” She begins. And you know that no good question begins with a why. “Why did you do it?”

You’re confused, what exactly is it that she wants to know about. You make eye contact with her in the rear view mirror.

“Get engaged to Frank.” She clarifies, “Why did you get engaged to Frank.” But what she really means is this ‘Why did you destroy our family?’

Of all the questions you’d been anticipating, that wasn’t one of them. But she asked, she made an effort to communicate with you. And so you make an effort to answer her.

“I don’t know.” You tell her.

She sighs wearily, and your realise you have to do better than that.

“I made a mistake. A terrible mistake.” You explain to her. “Remember that day you ran away from the playground, because Derek’s mother wouldn’t let Derek play with you at lunch time?” You look over your shoulder to the back seat and she is nodding, hey eyes glued to you. For the first time in days you feel like she is really listening and you wish you had the right words to say. “And remember I told you about how grown ups sometimes care too much about what other people think, and forget what really matters?” She nods again. “Well that’s the mistake I made.” You tell her, wondering if she understands at all what you’re talking about. “A lot of people thought it was the right thing for me to marry Frank, and I cared too much about what people thought and not enough about what I really wanted, or what other people wanted, or what was the right thing.” You’re filled with shame as you admit this to yourself, to Emma. As you realise this whole thing could have been prevented.

“Am I another one of your mistakes?” She asks accusingly. “Was being my other mommy a mistake? Was taking me from the school yard a mistake?”

“No.” You answer her. “None of that was a mistake Emma.” And you mean the first part. Being Emma’s other mother could never be called a mistake. Kidnapping her against her will, you’re not so certain. But she is looking to you for reassurance and you have to give it to her.

“Even if other people think it’s a mistake?” She asks. And you wonder how many times people have told Emma that you’re not her mother. Even Rafe told her, and you’re certain her grandfather too.

“Yes, even then. Because we are family, you know it and I know it and that’s all that matters.”

“Does Mommy know it too?” Emma asks bitterly, sounding so much older than her years, sounding so much like her mother that it causes your breath to catch in your throat before you can answer.

“Yes.” You answer, wondering how could it have taken so little time for you to completely cut Olivia out of the equation. Wonder if Olivia ever knew it, ever felt secure in your family, if you ever gave her any reason to. Wondering how long before Emma too starts speaking about Olivia in the past tense, as if she no longer exists.
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Carly
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Olivia
“They aren’t coming back for me.” You tell him boldly.

Once again he only laughs.

“They think I’m dead. They are long gone. They wont look back. Not for me, and certainly not for you.” Taunting him suddenly feels so good. As if a spark has been re ignited. Just talking about Natalia, thinking about her and Emma, has brought you back to life.

You feel his hand collide with your cheek as he slaps you. You touched a nerve. Good.

“Why are you so certain Natalia thinks you’re dead?” He wants to know.

Why? Because you should be dead, that's why. Because you don’t know how many days it’s been since you’ve taken your immunosuppressants. Too many. You should be dead. You will be dead. That’s why Natalia would be sure of it. But none of that do you say aloud to him.

And even as you are considering his questions, memories are flashing in your mind. A letter. Dear Natalia.....and a blank empty page. You watch yourself sitting, pen in hand, struggling to find the words. Longing for her to understand, to know how sorry you were, how much you loved her, loved Emma. How you wanted to set things right and knew no other way. How you didn't want to leave without saying goodbye. How you loved her. How you were too scared to say it to her face. You remember starring at that blank page. You can't remember a single word you wrote to her. But you know that you told her goodbye. You know that she wouldn't be be waiting around for you to come home.

“Get some sleep.” He tells you. “Tomorrow, we’re going home.”

“And I'm just going to do whatever you tell me to?” You want to know.

“If you want to see your kid again, yes you will do exactly what I tell you.”

“Now you're threatening my daughter? You don't even know where she is.” You're not sure where your sudden boldness has come from. Only sure that wherever Natalia and Emma are, they are almost certainly better off. One thing you know is this, Natalia would lay down her life for that kid.

“This is gonna end well for both of us, Olivia, if you only do exactly as I tell you.”

Outside you hear rain pouring down, a loud clap of thunder. It jogs your memory. And suddenly you are in another place, another time.

Cold hard rain is falling around you. You can't see a single star in the sky, the clouds overhead have obscured your view. You close your eyes and listen to the angry ocean below. You stand as close to the edge as you dare. And you think about it, stepping over that edge and being swallowed up by darkness.

You think about it. You want to do it. Pain and fear and regret are overwhelming you. You can't breathe. You want it to stop. Everything is so messed up and you don't know how to make it right. You want to end things. Here and now. Desperately. But you see your daughters face in your mind. You see Natalia's face. And you know you could never do it.

You can stand here, feeling sorry for yourself, crying in the rain on this cliff top and dreaming about throwing yourself over the edge, you can leave Natalia pathetic goodbye letters telling her how sorry you are and that she and Emma are better off without you. But you just can't take that step over the edge. You know you can't do it. You know you won't do it.

His voice snaps you back into reality. “There are police searching the country for Natalia and Emma. Sooner or later, someone is going to find them. Do you want Natalia to go to jail for kidnapping? I didn't think so. First thing you have to do, is tell the police that you sent Natalia and Emma away. That you weren't feeling well and asked Natalia to take Emma out of town.”

Alarmingly, the plan makes some sense. You can only imagine the trouble Natalia would find herself in, from the police, from Alan, if she really had just taken Emma like that.

You try to focus on his words, to think about what is best for Emma, for Natalia. But somehow your mind is still trapped in the past.

You know you wouldn't have jumped. You know you didn't do it. But suddenly you're drowning. Icy cold water burns you like fire. You struggle to fight your way to the surface, but you can't tell which way is up anymore. You can't see anything, you're whole body is fast going numb, you can scarcely move, and you're certain you will never take another breath. It would be easy to close your eyes, stop fighting, just let go and be swept away by the current. But suddenly, more than anything, you are desperate to live. You refuse to give up, and manage to slowly fight your way to the surface, gasping for air.

Just as all your strength is gone, that's when you feel someone's strong arms around you, pulling you along in the water. They drag you finally onto the shore, both of you breathless and coughing. Every part of you is aching. That's when you open your eyes. And in the dim moonlight, you recognise the face of your saviour. It's him.

Once again his voice snaps you back to the present day. “After you've done that Olivia, after your convincing performance, then you are going to tell me exactly where Natalia and Emma are.”

You almost want to laugh in his face this time, and ask him 'How the hell should I know, you moron? You've kept me prisoner here for god knows how long. I haven't the first idea what the hell is going on with anything.' But for now, you keep your silence. Let him believe you know where they are. Let him believe you serve some use to him, or else he might decide you're just not worth the trouble anymore and kill you. And then what would happen to Emma, to Natalia?

After he leaves you alone, the night seems darker, colder. Why does the thought of going home fill you with so much dread?

You fight against sleep, because you're afraid. It's not Natalia you dream of, its not your daughter. Tonight, it's Gus.
You remember a time you were jealous of Alan, his visions of Gus. A time you would have killed to be the one Gus was talking to. But tonight, Gus frightens you. You wonder if you’re dying. If he’s come to claim you, to re claim his heart. There was a time you wanted nothing more than that. And now that it's finally happening, you find you want to scream.
Gus stands before you now, looking to you with something close to pity in his eyes. It disgusts you.

‘You’re stuck with it. Sorry.” He tells you.

“It? What?” You ask him, confused.

“That heart. Life. Natalia. Stop trying to hard to throw it all away. You’re still standing Olivia, still after everything. Doesn't that tell you something?”

“I don’t want to be the one still standing.” You protest to Gus. And it's still true, after all this time. You still long to turn back the clock, Give Gus back his heart, his life. Give Natalia back what you stole from her, what she wants more than anything- Gus. You realise it sounds pathetic. That you should just be grateful for what you have. But somehow pouring your heart out to a ghost is easier than talking to a real live person. Gus isn't even real, so why should you care how pathetic you sound?
“But you are still standing.” He shrugs in response.

“Not for long.” You tell him. How could you ever find your way out of this? Your strength is draining day by day. You have no idea what he is playing at, what he plans for you. Somewhere, deep down, you think to yourself that it would be better for everyone if you just died. No one would ever find Natalia and Emma, they'd be happy.

“You’re wrong. There is something inside of you Liv. Something beating inside of you. And it's not from me. It's not my heart. It's not from your daughter, it's not from Natalia. It's something of yours, inside you. I'm gone. Natalia is gone. Emma is gone. And the world is still turning. You're still standing.”

“I don’t want to be.” You tell him quietly. You wonder if he had been watching over you, over all the pathetic things you'd said and done and wished for since he had died. The many times you'd almost thrown away that gift of life he had given you. And that even now you can't help but wonder if things would be made right for everyone if you died.

“But you are.” He answers.

Natalia

“What are we doing?” Emma asks you disdainfully as she surveys the spot you have selected to stop for the night, deep in the woods.

“Camping.” You answer her brightly, trying to make it sound like a grand adventure.

“Why?” She asks. You've always found her inquisitive nature endearing, but lately it's beginning to grate on your nerves. You almost long for the time she was giving you the silent treatment.

“I thought it would be fun.” You tell her. “You like camping.”

“Are we going to be 'camping' for the rest of our lives?” She asks with more sarcasm than a nine year old child should possess.

Her question throws you, and you don't answer. You haven't planned much beyond the moment. Just what were you going to do? Where were you going to go?

“God will guide us.” You tell her, trying to sound confident, wondering if God even knows who you are anymore.

“Are we hiding? Are you scared someone is going to find us?” Emma asks.

“No.” You answer automatically. You instantly regret it when she rebukes you.

“Don't lie to me Natalia.”

“There are things you need to just let me worry about, ok?” You manage to answer, pushing aside your guilt at lying to Emma, the one thing you promised you would never do.

“So I'm just supposed to follow you, go where you tell me, ask no questions?” Emma demands to know, hands on her hips.

“Emma, you told me you wanted to stay with me. You told me you wanted to be with me, and not with your grandfather. I thought that this was what you wanted. So yes. You are supposed to follow me and go where I tell you we need to go.” Because I am your mother and I said so...almost came out of your mouth.

“It was what I wanted. It was all I ever wanted, and you sent me away anyway.” The bitterness dissolves from her voice, she sounds only sad and small as she answers.

“I didn’t send you away, Emma.” You assure her, tears forming in your own eyes as you try to convince her. You can see how it seems that way to her. How abandoned she felt, by Olivia, by you. But you weren't the one who threw your life away without a second thought to her. You weren't the one she should be angry at “I know how confusing this is Emma. But I promised you I'd come back and get you, and I did. I promised you everything would be ok, and it will be. Trust me. “

“When are we going to see mom?” Emma asks.

You turn your head away, unable to look her in the eye.

“Just 'cause you and mom had a fight, you can't take me away from her. She is my mom too.” Emma tells you. Then she corrects herself “She is my real mom, my only real mom, and you can't keep me away from her.”

You want to gently remind her that you weren't the one who took her away from her 'real mom'. You want to say to her 'Emma, don't you remember anything? Don't you remember your mom disappeared? She left you for dust, didn't even say goodbye. I'm the one who never left you.' But it seems far too cruel to throw that in her face. And you just don't know what to say.

She is waiting expectantly for you to answer and all you can come up with is this. “Emma, I didn't take you away from your mom.” And even as the words come out of your mouth, you wonder how true they are. Sure, you hadn't taken Emma away from Olivia. But you wonder if you are the one who took Olivia away from Emma. If you're the reason she isn't here anymore. Guilt crushes you and you turn away from the little girls seeking eyes, trying to hide the flood of tears.

“Stop crying!” Emma shouts angrily at you. “Don't cry for mom as if she is dead, as if she is never coming back. Stop!” She is hitting you with her fists and shouting, tears in her own eyes. And more than anything you want to give her what she wants. You want to dry your tears, get a hold of yourself, and tell her 'Of course she isn't dead. Of course she is coming back for us.' But you know you can't do it.

You take hold of her hands, forcefully so she can't pull away from you. You make her look you deep in the eyes. “Emma...” You begin. But you just can't find the words.

Wearily she pulls her hands away. “I know what you're going to say.” She tells you. “You're so stupid, just like the rest of them. All of you who think Mom is dead. I thought you knew better than that, Natalia.”

On one hand she seems so unwavering in her conviction that her mother is alive. You almost want to sit at her feet and let her convince you that it's so. But you see the brokenness in her eyes, you know that somewhere deep down she knows Olivia is gone.

You can picture Emma angrily telling her grandfather that he was wrong. That her mother was alive. And believing it with all her heart. You picture her longing for you to come along, and tell her everything was ok, her mom was ok and she was coming home. Emma looks to you with this unshakable belief that you can be the one to make everything all right. And you don't know what damage you're going to do to her when you tell her the truth. You can't bring her mom back. Ever.
And you just can't do it. You just can't bring yourself to say anything.

“Are we hiding from mom?” Emma asks you finally.

“No, Emma.” You answer emphatically.“I would never take you from your mom, I would never hide you from your mom.” You shake your head wearily. Where does she get these ideas from? She is so desperate to believe her mother is alive that she will cling to any explanation possible, that she will push aside all the evidence to the contrary, and believe with all her heart that Olivia is alive.

You know it must be confusing for her, what is she supposed to make of all of this? You know you have to tell her the truth. Sit her down and look her in the eye, and tell her that her mother is dead. That she isn't coming back. That you miss her too. And that the two of you will just have to look after each other from now on, because that's what Olivia wanted. And you hate Olivia all over again for leaving you like this. Because you're out of your depth.

You open your mouth to speak, but it's too late.

“Yes that's exactly what you did. Took me away and now you're keeping me hidden from mommy because you're mad at her. I hate you and I'm not staying here with you!” She shouts. She turns and runs as fast as her legs will carry her. It's dark, and amidst the dense trees you almost lose sight of her. She is running as if her life depended on it. But your legs are longer and finally you catch her. And as you pull her close to you, the sound of her loud piercing screams ring in your ears.
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