Chapter Text
Lizzie
2006, Jan 1
It’s a new year, but not a new life.
Everyday I'm constantly in fear of spiraling and going manic again, considering the circumstances right now.
I’ve been in denial ever since Thor’s secret went out. I don’t know what’s true or not, but the nightmares from my past are coming to haunt me and I'm slowly gaining lost memories.
It was my sister, Caoimhe that got raped by Mark and drove her to suicide, unless…
Memories suddenly flooded back to me—nightmares of the monster under my bed doing things to me once in a while…
Except, they feel and seem too vivid to be nightmares or dreams for that matter. Too real.
He said he could fix me. He said—
My heart skipped a few beats. I started to breathe rapidly.
There was something Caoimhe said that night before she committed. She asked me something and I remembered.
She was distraught in her room that night, Mark closeby. She was demanding him for an answer to if he ever did something bad or touched me and— And Gibs—Thor. If he ever raped us.
We hid in the closet that night.
My sister gave me a note to hand over to Thor. I delivered the note after she died. The note was probably the confession. But Caoimhe said that Thor and I would be able to work together and report Mark for his actions.
I vividly remember that now.
I suddenly was overwhelmed with all of those horrible memories flooding back to me. My whole body was trembling as I realized I was crying, feeling my face wet with tears.
Caoimhe killed herself because she knew Mark raped Thor and I. She couldn’t bear the pain. But what made my sister think that I can bear the pain?
I left my house, distraught. I couldn’t control myself; I was at my house a moment ago, then ended up on the bridge.
Maybe I was going insane. No, I’ve been insane.
Somebody clutched my shoulder. “Hey,” the voice from a relatively young man said.
I jolted with alarm, almost stumbling back, falling off the bridge. I didn’t even realize I was standing on the railing of the bridge. The guy was gripping my arms and caught me before I actually fell off.
I made the face of Joey Lynch as he safely guided me back on the ground. As soon as I touched my foot on the pavement, I collapsed onto the ground, chest heaving and sobbing. I looked desperately up at Joey Lynch, not realizing that I was begging to die right in front of him. He looked taken back, but still reassured me that I was going to be okay. I wasn’t, but something changed in me hearing it from Joey Lynch: my best friends brother, basically my childhood hero, the dad, the recovered druggie…
It was different. Hearing words of affirmation from a different face; one that wasn’t Hugh’s.
It felt bittersweet.
I slowly calmed down, drifting away from my thoughts and coming back into the present. “I’m sorry, you shouldn’t be here.” I choked out.
“Neither should you,” he said simply. “Do you need a spin back?”
I was grateful that he didn’t bring up her actions. Yet, at least.
I hesitated, “Uh, I-I drove here.” He frowned, “Really? I don’t see a car…” Really though, I wasn’t sure if I drove or walked. Walking was pretty far, but I've done it before. I didn’t know what to say, or how I was feeling, but I said the only words I could say right now. “I don’t know,” I whispered. When it looked like he didn’t hear me, I raised my voice and broke into a sob, “I don’t know!” I gasped for air in between an outburst, “I just found out that my whole life was a lie, still is probably and I don’t want to think about what happens next.”
He patted me awkwardly on the back and helped me get up once I was stable. “Why don’t I take you to my place? I'm sure Aoife won’t mind. And if you want, we can have a talk.” he squeezed out, trying hard to be kind and make an effort.
I almost laughed out loud. It was funny to see him be extremely considerate for once, though I most definitely noticed the obvious concern on his face that was mixed with sympathy, probably empathy too.
“No, just please take me home.” I forced out.
He nodded firmly, a sense of dread beneath his eyes as he looked like he re-lived some past memories as well.
The drive back to my house was silent.
When I arrived home, I numbly thanked him. Although before I could leave, he called out my name and added quietly, “You remind me of myself, kid.”
I blinked drowsily, confused.
He shook his head as if revising his words, “My old self, or at least part of me. Don’t be like that.” he said then added, “Don’t do anything that you’ll regret.”