Numb - Chapter 3

Welcome to Chapter 3 of Numb. If you have not read Chapter 2 it can be found on my blog here: samssimstories.blogspot.com

In Chapter 2, Ellen relived her terrible ordeal which explained why she fears emotion and doesn't want to feel - or even love.

I hope you leave a nice comment if you liked the story. If you have any questions I would gladly answer them ASAP.

I haven't ever cried about that night since, well not until now. I stand here uncomfortably, my breathing heavy and unsteady. The glass in the window grows a fuzz every time I breathe, which fades as quickly as it appears. I feel the tears that trickle down my cheeks, coming to rest on my lips. As I lick them off I taste the salt, I think and bite my bottom lip. I remember.

I sit back down in my chair - I am writing again. My cheeks dry, leaving a sticky sensation and I realise that the flow has stopped. I have stopped crying. I am left with an empty, sick feeling as I sit here. Thinking.

The walls around me seem to be closing in. I'm trapped. Trapped in a marriage that I no longer want to be in. Klint. Yes he is the perfect man, but he's not my perfect man. I felt trapped before, but it was a different kind of trapped. It was a place - not a person - that I was stuck with.

As I think of Klint, my eyes lose their sticky residue, not becuase Klint makes me happy, but because I have no feelings at all towards him.

I have been trapped several times in my life: with my mother, as you already know and also with Klint, as I have just told you. But after the death of my mother, the police interrogations and the psychology tests and things that I went through, a new place had me trapped. A bleak, miserable place. A place where unwanted children get taken. A place where the only escape is to be passed into yet another prison. A new families waiting arms. Yes. I went to a children's home.

I had just left the police station, after even more questioning, and had gone home to collect some things including: some clothes, a few old toys and most impotantly my mothers old safe; aided by my social worker Zoey, of course. She was a pretty woman, but quite dull. Her car was cold, the air conditioning was broken. The rain lashed against the windows as some classical music trinkled through the speakers. It reflected my mood. The rain. Freedom. Love.

I realised I was still trapped. Locked away, sheltered from the rain. I had my hair scruffily tied back and had pulled on the most comfortable pieces of clothing I could find. My breath turned into steam in front of me as I breathed. I shivered.

I looked over at my social worker. I suppose it was good that lots of people were getting paid through my trauma. My memories. My new life. I watched her smooth a fold in her delicate, black suit. Watched her tap her perfect, french-manicured fingernails against the steering wheel as she lightly turned a corner. Yes. Someone was well paid.

A sudden light illuminated the inside of the car, chasing away the suffocating darkness. Smoke issued in swirls from a cigarette Zoey had just lit. I stared at the cigarette in her hand. Stared at the smoke trails, watched them float toward me through the cold, bitter air.

I coughed heavily as the fumes filled my nostrils, down into my throat. I took an instant dislike to the beautiful, grey smoke now. It was toxic, it might have looked attractive, but the smell and the effect was horrible, it was smothering. I wound down the window despite the cold and watched the smoke trail float sadly away, while the cool breeze blew into my face and cleared me of the impurities.

Zoey looked at me with an apologetic look on her face, well it was a pitiful look I suppose. Not quite apologetic, but bordering on it.

"Sorry, I should have asked if it bothers you. I can put it out if you like?" I could tell she wanted to strike up a conversation. But I wasn't interested in talking, I had done enough of that in the past few days to last me a lifetime. I would willingly not have spoken for the rest of my life. Especially not about her darned cigarettes.

People always ask questions; questions that don't need to be answered, question with answers that should be left well alone.

I turned away from her and looked out of the window. I watched the rain drops stream down the window, I thought my eyes were perhaps doing the same thing. Streaming. But they weren't. I didn't feel sadness anymore, only a resentment toward my mother. A hatred for leaving me in this mess because of her own selfish ways.

Zoey gave a sigh as the light turned green, and we pulled off into the merging darkness, to a new place which would be called 'home'. I didn't believe it would be, but it's the only name I can think for it. Perhaps 'prison' would be better or maybe 'death row', I'm sure it would feel like that. All these kids around me when I would much rather be left alone. In peace. With no questions.

Zoey turned to me again, a few hours later. I could tell she was hesitant, but I didn't want to make it any easier for her. It wasn't easy for me, I didn't want to make it easy for anyone else. Why should I alone suffer?

"Ellen?" I said nothing. There was nothing I could say. "We are just about there, do you have any questions before we go in, any worries?" I ignored her still. "Right. Here we are." She stated simply, brightly.

I looked out of the window, which was no longer streaked with rain. There stood a tall, factory-looking building. I felt like I was about to be exposed to slave labour, which of course I wasn't. It was the buildings fault, it made me feel that way. I was reluctant to leave the car so I sat there for a few minutes, squirming.

"Listen Ellen." Zoey said as she stopped pulling up the drive and switched the engine off. I felt a sudden finality as the sounds of the engine stopped. I was here. My new 'home'. "You have nothing to worry about, none of the other children are awake. You can just sneak up to your room quietly. You won't have to meet anybody. I understand how you are feeling..." I knew she was trying to coax me into speaking. I wasn't going to do it. I hate speaking.

I looked up at the big, red door. It cast an imposing look down to where I sat in the car. Through that door were the big bolts, the bars, the locks. I could feel the loneliness of the place. I hated it already. Bratty little kids all locked up together, it seemed like a worse version of big brother to me. A sick game, to win families. I didn't want a family. I could take care of myself.

I stepped out into the cool, night air and the engulfing darkness. A single light shimmered down into the driveway from a room I could not see into. It was a warm glow, I felt tricked. It was a trick to get me in there... to lock me away.

I looked around at the surrounding buildings: The high-rise flats, the council houses. I imagined the used needles and the litter flooding out onto the streets and felt sickened. I was going to be living here, in this dump. That's what this place was. A dump. People get dumped here. People who are no longer welcome in society. Dumped.

A pool of light flooded down the concrete, moss-growing steps as a formidable looking woman stepped out into the darkness, illuminated by the light she stood on the cracked porch looking down at us.

We stepped closer and I looked up at her fearfully, she was the type of woman who gained respect without even saying anything. It was obvious she was not easily intimidated, she remained steely in her countenance as we moved ever closer.

Zoey turned to me again.

"Are you sure there is nothing you want to ask me?" I watched the light dance across her pale face as the door opened wider, desperate for us to enter.

I said nothing in return to Zoey's question and focused on the silhouette in the doorway.

"Ah. Zoey" The woman stepped down the front steps, holding out her arms expectantly. Zoey greeted her in a hug and quickly lit another cigarette as she pulled away.

"It's so good to see you again. The children will be pleased!" Zoey inhaled deeply as the grey smoke swirled around her figure.

"They are awake are they?" Zoey asked, giving me a concerned look.

"Oh, no. I just assumed you would be staying to see them. You know how they love your visits." Zoey's eyes widened in revelation.

"Of course, but I am afraid I am just dropping off tonight." She said acknowledging me. "I have other important work to be getting on with." She stepped toward the car, as the breeze blew against me casting the spattering of new fallen rain to hit me in the face. "Zoey you should get inside, you don't want to get wet." Zoey gave me a look that said goodbye as I headed inside and tried to find my room. Alone.

I found it soon enough, it was the only one without a name tag hanging off of the rusting doorhandles. The walls were bare and the floors were cold. I wondered if I was to live like this for the whole time I stayed here.

I walked over to the rain dashed window and looked outside watching the ripples in the newly formed puddles. Zoey was heading back to her car, while the old woman stepped in towards the house. I watched the triangle of light become darkness as the front door was closed.

I watched Zoey pull out of the driveway and cried out. I was now left here. I was in prison again, I couldn't ever escape from here. Lonely. Deprived. Cold. Dead to the rest of the world but me.

The woman entered my room. She had deep lines etched across her face, I could only imagine it was from the stress of her job. I feared her in that moment, I feared people.

"Ellen. This is your room, you are allowed to decorate it however you like... it was left empty except for the bed, so you could make this feel like home. Hopefully it won't be your home for too long. Sometimes a child is adopted, you could get a new family." I didn't want a new family. I looked around the room silently. I wasn't going to break my silent vigil to speak to this woman.

"You shall call me Mrs. Foster." She let out a loud laugh as if she had just told a joke. "Which I think is rather funny as I run a foster home." She boomed with laughter and clutched at her sides. I watched her my eyebrows raised. "Well." She blustered as she quickly straightened herself up. "Breakfast will be at half past seven in the morning. Miss it and you miss breakfast: simple as that." I didn't think I would be hungry anyway. I didn't like this woman and was relieved when she left the room.

But although she left, I still saw her face. It would be a memory along with many others that wouldn't leave me. She frightened me and her face kept entering my dreams as she said: "simple as that."

I wept lightly as I slept that night. I was cold in the draughty room, I felt scared and more alone than I ever have my entire life. As I dreamed of the morning to come and the children that would, no doubt, be surprised at my arrival, I decided to make a difference, since I was fed up of being 'Plain Jane' I was going to make myself different.

I woke up, considerably early the next morning, rubbing the sleep from my unwilling eyes. I Squinted as the light sent saring pains right to the back of them. I heard voices. Excited childish voices and giggles. I looked around the room blearily and sat up straight, trying to scramble out of bed.

There in front of me were two big dreamy, chocolatey brown eyes. I indulged in them a while before I saw teeth, brilliant white teeth as the boys face was lit up by a wide smile. Heat doused me, even though my bare feet were touching the cold wooden floor, and I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment as I sat there in my skimpy pyjama's.

"Hi." The boy had started to speak. You might think that this was Klint, being that I told you how perfect he was but this wasn't Klint. This was: "I'm Liam." Yes this was Liam, I thought I loved him. You know the silly little crushes a girl gets. Well that was until Klint came along, with other problems too. Anyway more on that later.

"It's so good to have a new girl here! It's been ages since anyone has been brought here, isn't it Karen?" Great. Way to make me feel even less wanted, when lots of other children have parents to love them, hold them, read them a story before they fall to sleep; heads filled with innocent dreams. Everything changes with age though, dreams become less innocent. As do our thoughts, feelings and actions.

"This is Karen." Liam said gesturing to a small, cute little girl. She had a rather boyish look about her, and looked quite athletic. I gave her a small smile, still refusing to speak, as Liam carried on.

"This is Tommy." Tommy, I could tell was the cute one. The smart one. The shy one. He was my best friend in that home, the others were all Ok. But Tommy was the only one who ever understood me. And judging by what I am telling you. Yes I did open up and talk eventually.

"And this..." He was cut off as a girl with thick, blonde hair spun around, away from the mirror with a dazzling smile.

"I am Ashley. So how did you come to be here? My parents were killed in a car crash, ruddy idiots! Drink driving I tell you! Still, I survived. So it can't be all bad can it?" She let out a loud giggle. I had met girls like her before. I didn't like them. They didn't like me. I said nothing.

"What? Don't you speak? Or are you just being extremely rude?" I still said nothing. "What are you? A mute?" I shook my head, but didn't utter a word. I watched a fly buzz mindlessly around her head, stopping a short while later to land on a grubby piece of wall. My gaze then dropped to the chipped and breezy floorboards, as I felt her watch me an annoyed expression flickering across her face.

"Why don't you speak then?" I didn't answer. "So you are being rude! Well that's Ok. I won't ever let you borrow my things, and judging by the way you look. You're going to need them!" I looked into her piercing eyes and saw a fury there. I had seen anger before, but not like this. I used to think all anger and rage looked the same. Now I know that it is not. Anger and hatred are built upon insecurities, and this is what sparks our emotions... this is what makes us weak. Vulnerable.

"That's enough you lot." A woman in her late twenties entered, she had a distinguished, likeable face. Dark hair that complimented her pink skin and brown eyes. She smiled unfalteringly as she sent the children, presumably, back down to the breakfast area.

"Welcome, to Foster's foster home. We can start on your room today if you'd like. Sorry about the children." She added. "They were just excited about meeting someone new." I didn't speak. Even to someone with whom I would show a lot of respect for, a person who could easily have become a friend and didn't. "Perhaps you should join us for breakfast, you must be hungry, exhausted after your... " she looked awkward and sympathetic at the same time. "ordeal."

I moved apprehensively toward the mirror, that Ashley had just finished staring at her own perfect complexion in, afraid of how I might look after the few days in which I didn't care about my appearance. But now was different, contending with Ashley was going to be difficult. I pulled my hair into a scruffy ponytail and double checked my face for any blemishes.

"Come on Ellen, time to have some breakfast. I know my mother can seem strict but she really isn't all bad... she just cares too much about all of the children here." Why were all of these people intent on getting me to speak? I wasn't going to speak again. Not ever.

I sat down at the table and was about to shove a spoonful of cereal into my mouth when I noticed Ashley staring at me.

"Why don't you speak? I thought you were average looking at first, now I see that you are even less than that. Look how beautiful I am, I am going to marry a rich man and live happily ever after." I smiled, not from humour or agreement, I just wanted to get out of the situation as lightly as possible.

"You aren't really that pretty Ashley. Besides beauty isn't everything. It can't get you a good job, and it certainly can't hide the fact that something ugly could be lurking underneath the beauty." Silence. I sort of agreed with Tommy. Everything he had just said reminded me of my mother. She was a pretty rose, but she certainly had a few thorns.

Ashley looked crestfallen.

"What?" she looked confused her face screwed up in concentration. "Oh." she exclaimed wide-eyed. "You're joking aren't you?" She laughed aloud. "I thought you were serious!" She laughed again, but noticing that no-one around her was laughing, ceased instantly. "You were serious?"

"Ashley isn't the brightest of people, are you Ash?" Karen looked up at me.

"Don't call me that!" "Ash is pretty dumb, look at her. She has to spend five minuted just working out how to understand a joke! Dumb, dumb, dumb." I looked down at the roughly scrubbed table before looking up at Ashley.

"Hey. Ease up Karen." Oh, great. Liam was backing up Ashley. And I had to stifle a little giggle as Karen poked her tongue out at him. "Sure Ashley isn't the smartest, but she'll do fine. If you don't watch it Karen, your brains will just float away as you dream."

"Liam! Don't say things like that, or we'll never get her to sleep!" Mrs. Foster entered and scolded Laim who turned to me quickly and gave me a wink before chowing down on his cereal.

"Well, whatever. I know how to make you beautiful Karen... then you wouldn't have to worry about your brains flying away. But you never let me." Ashley hung her head upset.

"That's because you look like someone just slapped paint all over you! I don't want to look like that!" I almost giggled, but stopped when I saw the look on Ashley's face.

Yes I was trapped there, trapped in myself to begin with. I know it doesn't feel too much like a prison now, but when I first met Klint, I was trapped there beyond all logical reason. The childrens banter could only keep me distracted for so long... Trapped.

Klint is taking me out to dinner, so I have stopped writing for now. I need to get ready. I honestly don't want to go but my stomach is growling and my hand is cramping. Besides, Klint is good company... just not my kind of company.

Do you ever feel a certain closeness to somebody? A closeness that you want to feel and share forever and ever? Me and Klint have that. It's a loving closeness, yes. But not a romantic one. I think he knows it. I know I know it. Unfortunately our closeness won't allow us to be perfectly honest with each other.

Honesty. It comes with trust and love. Without honesty there is no trust, without trust there is no love. This marriage is doomed to failure.

How long can I keep it going do you think? A sadness. A hole that grows inside me everyday. Can I fill it with Klint, or do I need a new man? I have a way out. An easy way out. But is it too easy?