Irises

CW: abuse, death

I’m sorry that it’s been so long since my last letter, but I’ve had a lot of my mind. I wanted this one to have more content than just a slew of scribbles going into self-pity and apologies.

It’s May, which means the seniors just had their dance, so I believe it’s the perfect time to get this off my chest. I know this can’t change the past or how you feel, but I hope this will at least help put this whole episode to rest.

When I was eight years old, your father started coming over and spending way too much time with my mother. “Coworkers,” I recalled them mentioning in a panic after I saw him seductively caressing my mom’s neck. Fortunately for them, my dad was a salesman and was rarely home. She said the fool was more partial to wasting time chasing dollar signs on business trips instead of keeping his family happy. Looking back, I have to agree with her.

Most nights of the week, the rhythmic creaking from mom’s bed killed any chance of me getting rest. I almost never saw my dad, but I knew he was home when I was kept awake by arguing instead. In neither case did I get a few hours of decent sleep.  

However, on one night, my dad came home early and both men were home at the same time. Your dad drove away in a panic which left my dad to scream at mom and me. He was upset at her for the affair, but he was also angry at me for not telling him. Some loud debate of loyalty and back-stabbing ensued, but I only remember how the frigid evening breeze stung my warm, wet cheeks when he kicked us out. I never heard another word from him again.

My mom kept yelling at your dad over the phone, attempting to guilt him into taking us in for a day. And it worked! A few hours later, he picked us up at a nearby bus stop.

When we finally arrived back at your house, I was partially frozen, still crying and a mess, but I’ll never forget how adorable you were. You had a chocolate stain on your cheek and wore your rainbow-patterned sweater that was a few sizes too large. From the distance, I saw your long dirty-blonde hair separated into messy pigtails with a pink headband nestled on the top of your cute head.

You rounded the corner and ran up to us, then immediately embraced me with that fluffy pink blanket. That was the first time I took notice of the biggest, most beautiful deep blue eyes I ever saw. The next thing I felt were your lips close to my ear. “You’re safe now, and nothing’s gonna change that.” At the time, those words felt like a lie.

    One night turned into two, and then almost a full month elapsed when they announced they were to start dating. But in just that amount of time, we realized our living situation was a nightmare. Our parents would constantly fight and we rarely had enough food to eat. It got so bad we started making jokes about it to ease our suffering. Your dad was a vicious drunk, and it was horrifying when he started drinking again. Not even our lightheartedness could escape his fury. I did count my blessings, for despite everything else, at least I was trapped there with you.

Remember how scared we used to get when we heard my mom sobbing from down the hall? He would hit her with all his force, and her piercing cries would echo in our dark room. I heard your sharp inhales crescendo after every single strike she received. On those nights, you’d always find your way into my bed, tears gushing from your beautiful deep blue eyes. I first noticed it back then, but it was as if the pigment in your irises faded in these times of sorrow.

After we were both tucked in, we’d spend the whole night telling our childish stories and fantasies to each other. I remember losing myself in our outlandish daydreams in only a minute. Eventually, our giggles would fill the silence between the crack of your dad’s fist and my mom’s gut-wrenching howl. By the end of our conversation, a familiar blue would return to your eyes, and you would be smiling, giddy with excitement. It should be a horrible memory, but since you were there it’s one of my best.

We were eleven we first started talking about our relationship. We were so scared to admit how we felt, but I do remember you were the first one to say those three words to me. I was ecstatic, and nervously stuttered them back to you repeatedly, until you placed your hand over my mouth to shush me.

 A week or so after is when we shared our first kiss. It was innocent enough, but your dad was furious when he caught us. He shouted for my mom, and like an obedient dog she came. They exchanged a few words, and we could all feel his rage rising. He grabbed your arm and pulled you into the living room, slamming the door shut behind him.

“Don’t you… don’t… touch her,” Mom weakly said to me behind tears. She began to strike me. Light at first, but then growing in intensity. Again and again, over and over, for what felt like an eternity. I felt so alone until I heard your heart wrenching shrieks from the other room. We really shared everything back then, huh?

It was late into the night when the violence stopped, and at last your dad opened the door and carelessly threw you onto the bed. You were badly bruised head to toe and had tears flowing from your beautiful blue, yet pale eyes. After they went to sleep, I walked over to your bed and moved my mouth close to your ear and whispered, “you’re safe now, and nothing’s gonna change that.” I gave you another kiss and crawled into bed with you. That night, we fell asleep in each other’s arms. I realized then that I had to become strong for you.

After that night, our lives started to get better. Still, we were only thirteen years old when you received the bad news. You weren’t home often over the next year because the doctors wanted to keep you under constant observation. Despite me begging mom, she would never take me to visit you out of fear of your dad’s wrath, and I ultimately lost all hope when asking him. Can you believe he coldly asked me why I wanted to waste time visiting a dead girl? I didn’t even have your phone number to wish you good night. How could they treat you so poorly?

I used to cuddle up with your pink blanket, desperately sniffing it just to remember you. It became a nightly ritual that was usually followed by tears, frustration and self-hatred. I felt so powerless that I couldn’t help you in any way.

Then you finally came home the next year. Even though you were cured, you appeared so sickly. Your baggy clothes hardly hung to your bones and you were so tired that you couldn’t even stand up without help. Your beautiful deep blue eyes looked so damn grey then.

You were bedridden for around a week, and the minute you were able to walk your dad ended the relationship my mom. We had no choice but to move with our parents, so you left for the opposite side of town while I stayed behind.  

We didn’t see each other until the new school year, so our friends, classes and clubs were all different. We went from never spending a second apart to barely spending a minute together. It was my job to fight for you in order to keep our relationship close. But I failed. Instead, I thought you didn’t want to see me anymore.

A few years later we were both juniors in high school and the winter formal dance was quickly approaching. As I mentally matured, I realized how important you were to me and wanted to win you back. I came up with a plan and managed to save three-hundred dollars so we could have a great night. I even had a corsage waiting for you!

But again, I was too late. I tried approaching you at the dance, but on my way over I saw you kissing one of the biggest jerks in school. I can only condemn myself because I was too scared to reach out to you ahead of time. I feared rejection more than anything else. But it was another time in my life that I should’ve known you would never turn me down.

I didn’t speak to you much at all until senior year at the dance. You feebly smiled at me, and you looked different – so much sadder. Your beautiful, deep blue eyes lost so much more of their azure hue since the last time we saw each other that they appeared colorless. I needed to find out what was going on, so I grabbed your hand and pulled you aside. “Boyfriend issues,” you said, as if you were trying to suppress your misery.

It took just a few seconds for me to find the bruise on your cheek, and that led to you unhappily revealing the other dozen or so that were plastered up and down your arms and legs. When I asked who hurt you, your reticent answer of “everyone” broke my heart. I took your hand and ran away with you. The situation demanded I keep you protected, if only for a moment.

It was chilly in the park, but at least I brought your pink blanket. We were away from everyone else and in a world occupied only by us. We started acting like we did when we were kids, sharing laughs and stories – everything, as if we never stopped talking in the first place.

You then told me you were still in love with me. Those words after all this time surprised me, but I nervously repeated them over-and-over again just like when we were children. And again, you had to shush me, but this time with a kiss. You even fell asleep in my arms like you used to. I held you throughout the twilight, wishing it never ended. It was a wonderful moment that I’ll cherish forever.

Tears filled my eyes as streaks of red and yellow broke into the sky. I thought everything was going to be alright, but when you woke, a forced grin appeared on your lips and you looked at me with the same dull irises from the night before. You emotionlessly said that you needed to get back and that we could catch up later. I begged you not to leave, but you ignored my pleas and disappeared from my sight. Forever.

A day later, news of the event reached me.

I told you in my last letter that I would stop blaming myself for everything that happened, but I can’t yet. I’m ashamed for ever being a part of your life. I threw away every opportunity I had to be with you. To love you. To keep you safe. To be the ear you needed in your times of pain. I’ll never be able to forgive myself for how things turned out. You deserved better.

Sleep well, my love. You’re safe now, and nothing’s gonna change that.