Safe Haven

"...maybe if you spent more time with your daughter, we wouldn't have to worry about losing her too."


"Don't put all of the blame on me Elizabeth! You know that I can't take any more days off! I've used all of my holiday earlier this year to stay with the two of you, if you can't remember!"


"And now what? Now it's all up to me?"


"What are you talking about? All you did was make her get a job! You even told her that she doesn't have to see that therapist anymore! How could you do that, how are we supposed to -"


"I'm not that irresponsible, John! She will start seeing her again once she returns to school."


"She should have been in therapy now, during summer, so that she can start preparing for college in September! But oh no, you weren't listening to me when I had suggested that!"


This has been going on ever since they woke up. My parents were getting ready to go to work and somehow it came up in the conversation that I had to be home alone again. It was my day off but I had been up since about half six. I was incredibly tired but for the last few days I have been unable to sleep properly. Sitting on the window sill, clutching one of my cushions, I was trying to block out my parents' voices. God, I can't even remember what it feels like to be in a normal family.


Isn't it weird that I am the subject of the majority of their arguments? I mean, what have I ever done wrong? I'm not the one who turned this family upside down in the first place. To my own dismay, I am the one who is still alive, so why do I feel like I am the bad one then? Whenever they argue about me, they make it sound like I am some unwanted trouble.



A rapid movement in my peripheral vision caught my eye. There, in front of their house, was Mikey, carrying a backpack. He was standing with a bicycle by his side, checking the contents of the bag. After a while, he hopped on and rode off into the street lit by the morning sunshine. I haven't spoken to him in a few days, although I promised him that I'd find him and talk to him after he found me in Gerard's bedroom that morning. I didn't know what to say to him. There was so much going on in my mind right now that I had no space in there for explaining everything from the beginning.


Sitting there, I noticed that Gerard's car was parked in their driveway along with his mom's car, Donald's car was long gone. The Ways usually ate breakfast together, meaning that Gerard had to be up as well. He surprised me with how nice and civilised he was when he took me for coffee the other day. It's been almost a week but I still felt that relief from telling him about Hayley and him explaining to me what their friendship was like. It answered some of my questions but at the same time, opened up more to ask. The feeling of defeat took over me when I realized that I would probably never find out why Hayley did it, no matter how many answers I'd get.


When Gerard had suggested that we get another coffee, I wanted to pay for it. For once he let me, and I got us another dose of caffeine but I had asked for takeaway cups. Gerard wanted to go once the cafe started filling up with other people. We didn't talk about my sister anymore. During the ride home, we made small talk about his art course and college in general but that was it.


I felt this inner tug pulling me towards him, I couldn't bullshit myself anymore. I had been thinking about our conversation ever since he dropped me off that day. It wasn't that we were close to each other, because we weren't, but I felt like I didn't have to pretend when I was with him. I didn't have to pretend that I was all happy and cheery all the freaking time. He had seen me crying before, God, he's even seen me right after waking up from one of my nightmares. Just the idea of being around someone like that made my hopes of surviving grow higher.


In between all of those words that my parents were shouting at each other, I also heard the furious bubbling of the kettle which immediately made my senses perk up. I wasn't in the mood to face my parents right now but the thought of a hot cup of coffee made me get up and follow their voices coming from downstairs.


"You know what she did four months ago, I'm not having that again, John." I could hear my mum sigh from around the corner.


"Do you think that I can't remember? What exactly do you -"


"Hey." I interrupted my dad mid-sentence, walking into the kitchen. My mum was sat at the table, fingers wrapped around a steaming mug, whilst my dad was leaning onto the kitchen counter, fixing his tie. As soon as they heard my voice, they stopped their conversation to look at me with wide eyes. Wow, shocker, right? Yeah, I've been in the house guys, listening to you this whole time.


"Good morning, honey. There's coffee ready in the pot." My mum said sweetly, pointing towards it. I simply nodded and poured myself a cup. They were still silent, waiting for me to say something, I guess. I mirrored my dad, leaning onto the counter, sipping on my coffee. Well, this is awkward.


"How are you, Kayleigh?" My dad asked once he got the message that I had nothing to say to them after hearing their argument.


"Spectacular." I snapped. Ever since I stopped taking those meds, my mood has been like a rollercoaster. I have been constantly irritated, no matter what. All those headaches that came along with it definitely weren't helping either.


"Kayleigh," he sighed, letting go off his tie, "we know that it has been difficult for you. We will get through this, okay?" He shuffled towards me, squeezing my upper left arm. I nodded, unable to find the right words to say. "I'm sorry that we can't spend that much time with you, now that you're off."


"It's okay, dad. I'm fine." The truth was, I wasn't fine. I was nowhere near it. Every minute spent in this house of horror was pure hell. Only walking around Hayley's closed bedroom door was like getting stabbed in the heart repeatedly.


"Have you got any plans for today?" My mum asked, getting up, reaching for more coffee.


"I might go see Mikey in the afternoon. Just to hang out." I muttered, hoping that Mikey would be back by that time. I really didn't want to be in the house on my own anymore.


"That's great, honey." She smiled at me. "I'm glad you're spending time with the guys again."



My dad forced a smile and kissed my forehead, apologizing again that he had to leave for work already. He picked up his briefcase and before I knew it he was out of the door. I noticed the pained expression on my mum's face when he left. He didn't even look her way before he walked out.


I probably shouldn't care so much about my parents' relationship. I mean, it's not my problem that they don't know how to communicate anymore. It was the fact that the only stable thing in my life was suddenly falling apart.


Mum left for work shortly after. Once she left the house, I went back to staring out of the window, praying that Mikey would be coming back soon.


The silence surrounding me was deafening. I have no idea how long I had been waiting for Mikey to return but he was nowhere to be seen and I was running out of patience. It must have been hours. I didn't want to be here on my own. I had to get out. Not being in the right state of mind, I did the first thing that I thought would help me get away from it.


____________




I didn't even have to knock, Donna emerged from their door before I got the chance. She seemed to be in rush, straightening her long skirt.


"Oh, Kayleigh, hello darling." She smiled at me, surprised to see me on their doorstep. I replied politely, returning the smile. "I'm on my way to a colleague's wedding." She explained, excitement lacing her words. "What a great reason to get out of work for one day." She chuckled.


"Booking this weather must have cost them a fortune." I joked, motioning to nowhere in particular.


"That's right." She laughed. "Donald should have taken off work, he would have loved it. By the way, Mikey's not here, dear. He went to see his grandma this morning." She said before I even asked anything.


"Actually, Donna, I came to see Gerard." I forced the words out, hoping that she wouldn't question it.


"Oh," she paused in her rushed actions, "so you two have talked it out?"


"Uh," I choked on my own words, assuming that she was talking about the dinner where he had a go at me. I just realized that no one really knew that Gerard and I had talked a few times in the past few days. "Yeah, I just came to see him to, um, to -" Jesus I didn't think this through at all.


"I'm glad to hear that." Donna saved the situation when she saw my hesitation. "He's downstairs in his room." She moved to the side, letting me in.


"Thank you, Donna. Enjoy the wedding." I smiled and waved at her, as she left the house.


I was standing in the hallway motionless, unsure of how I was going to approach him. Knowing Gerard, he might do his usual one eighty turn and kick me out or lash out on me. This time it was worse because no one else was in here with us. I pushed my worries aside though. I was feeling so down anyway that I had nothing to lose, honestly. Getting yelled at by Gerard was nothing in comparison with going back into our empty house.


I followed the faint sound of Bowie coming from the basement. Praying that he would be in a good mood, I pushed the door open, the music becoming louder as I was slowly walking down the flight of stairs.


"What did you forget, Ma?" Gerard's tired monotone voice reached my ears before I even entered his bedroom fully. He was hunched over his desk, a coffee mug in one hand, pencil in the other. He didn't even look up from whatever it was that he was drawing. His hair was sticking up in all directions, partially blending in with his black hoodie that he was wearing. After about five seconds I finally found the courage to say something.



"Hi, it's me." Upon hearing my voice, his head snapped in my direction, surprise filling his eyes.


"Hey." He responded but it sounded more like a question to me. I was still standing in the doorway, unable to move. As much as I was proud of myself for being brave enough to come here and tell him that I wanted to be with him rather than back in my own home all alone, I felt panic wash over me under his expectant gaze.


We were staring at each other, waiting for the other one to say something. He broke the silence after a while.


"Mikey's not here."


"I know." I replied quietly, fiddling with my fingers nervously. A subtle wave of shock crossed his features when he realized that I came here to see him. He was silent for a few moments and I hoped that he wouldn't lash out on me.


"Are you okay?" He asked slowly, standing up from his desk. Not expecting him to sound so concerned, I couldn't form any words. He turned down the volume of the radio and started walking over to me. I simply nodded as he was slowly approaching me but I ended up shaking my head when he stopped right in front of me. "What is it?"


"I just -" I took a deep breath, trying to put myself together in his presence. "I just don't want to be alone in that house anymore. It's driving me insane." My voice was all shaky, barely above whisper. I had no idea what to expect from him. "And, and I was wondering if I could stay here for a bit." I was looking down, feeling the heat rising to my cheeks. God, I haven't felt this pathetic in a while. He wasn't saying anything and the awkwardness hit me like a cold shower. This was so embarrassing.


"I mean, if you have plans or, or if you're busy," I motioned towards his desk, still avoiding eye contact, "or if you want to be alone, it's fine, I will go, I was just wondering because -" my incoherent rambling was interrupted by a silent chuckle.


"Kayleigh, it's fine." I finally met his gaze. His eyes were soft but he looked exhausted too. "You can stay." He turned around and walked back to his desk. I sighed with relief, feeling the tension in my shoulders disappear. "The only plan I had for today was taking a nap." He laughed and I finally made my legs move, walking further into his bedroom. "Recently I haven't been sleeping properly." He added.


"Me neither." I muttered, running my fingers over the numerous comic books lined up on one of his shelves.


"I'm gonna get myself more coffee, do you want some?"


"I'm okay, thanks." I forced my lips into a gentle smile as he walked past me towards the stairs.


This was weird. He was actually being friendly with me. I guess the talk has changed a lot of things then. I smiled to myself stupidly when I realized that it only took us about seventeen years to become civil with each other.


His room was a chaotic mess as always, pieces of paper were scattered on the floor around his desk, hoodies and t-shirts were piling up in one of the corners, there were quite a few empty mugs all over the surfaces in his room and the bed was just a mess of pillows and blankets. The only thing that had some sort of order in it was the shelf with comic books and cassettes. Classy, Gerard, really. Although it was bright and sunny outside, Gerard's room was illuminated by a single beam of light coming from the only window above his bed. I kind of liked his room, it had a personality. I can't even imagine what it would look like if it was tidied up.


After a minute of just looking around his den, I wondered over to his desk, curious about what it was that he was working on. There were layers upon layers of different kinds of paper lying underneath an open sketchbook with faint outlines drawn in it. I narrowed my eyes and tilted my head, studying the drawing closely. It was some sort of a comic book character, posing in a defensive manner with their face twisted dramatically. I couldn't stop the small smile creeping up on my lips when I thought about how artistic and creative he could actually be. It's something that I have always admired in people, the ability to put whatever it is on their mind on a piece of paper.


"It's just a little sketch to keep myself busy over the holidays." I straightened myself up when Gerard returned with a steaming cup of coffee. "That sketchbook is full of doodles and random ideas, nothing special really." He commented as he settled his drink down.


"I think it's really good." I admitted, turning one of the pages to reveal a similar figure on the flip side. "You should get into comics after you graduate."


"That's the plan, I guess." He laughed, scratching his head, messing up his hair in the process.


We started talking about his degree and all the different tasks that he had to complete throughout his studies. I found myself to be genuinely interested in his art, suddenly becoming engulfed by his bohemian aura and life style. I have always admired art, the history and meanings behind all the different brush strokes and symbols. Gerard was actually pretty impressed that I was keeping up with what he was talking about and that I was able to tell him about my favourite artists and art pieces.


"How come you know so much?" He asked, making me feel a little proud on the inside.


"I don't know, I think it all started when I was younger. I found one of my sister's books. It was about the meaning of different flowers in art. And one of the chapters was all about poppies and it was written more like a novel rather than an encyclopedia." I explained, smiling as I did so, remembering those times I'd sit and read the chapter over and over. "And I just fell in love with it, it was so beautiful." I sighed, looking over at Gerard who suddenly walked over to his immodest library, squatting down. "I don't know where the book is though. Hayley must have left it in her dorm or something."


"Was the chapter called The Crimson Fields by any chance?" He smirked at me, wiggling something in his grasp victoriously. It was the book that I was telling him about.


My mouth fell open at the sight of this. I had been looking for it everywhere. "Where did you get that?" I asked, shocked, peeling myself off his desk. I skipped over to him, feeling the happiness rise in my chest.


"She let me borrow it when I was doing a project on impressionism last year. There's a lot on Monet and his Poppy Fields in that chapter, exactly what I needed." He said, handing it over to me. "I never got the chance to give it back to her." He sighed but I paid no attention to it. It felt like I was holding a treasure. I flipped through the pages, immediately finding the part about poppies.


"The Crimson Fields by Antoine Noel." I read out loud with a full on smile, completely blocking out Gerard. "I love how every chapter is written by a different artist. You can tell that they were truly passionate about it when they were writing it." I remarked, plumping myself on his bed carelessly, nose buried in the pages. I heard Gerard chuckle as he sat down at his desk again followed by the volume of the radio being turned up once again.


I couldn't get enough of the book. I was fascinated by the colours that they used to paint the flowers and by all the different meanings they had. Reading the chapter about poppies, I realized that it had never been more relevant to me than it is today. It said that poppies are supposed to remind us of those that had passed away. Which is what they did right now, every painted blossom was screaming "remember me". This whole book was a reminder, painful but beautiful at the same time.


"Have you ever seen a poppy field?" Gerard's voice woke me up from the trance that I was in. He kept his eyes on his drawing though.


"No, actually." I replied thoughtfully. "Have you?" He nodded, still looking at his drawing.


"This year there's one when you drive West from the town. Last time I was driving there it wasn't blooming yet." He shot me a small smile before turning back to his work.



We stayed like that for ages, me reading and Gerard working on his sketches. We didn't talk much. The only conversation we had was when Gerard pointed out that I could study Art History as a university degree after I told him that I haven't even started looking at college applications yet. However, there wasn't any awkward silence either. We simply enjoyed each other's company. I thought that it was pretty sad that we never spent any time together, I mean, this was great. It felt natural. He could have been hanging out with us from the beginning.



"Why did you never talk to me and the guys?" I asked randomly when the cassette with Bowie stopped playing. Gerard was switching the sides for about a third time that day, sending me a curious look. "You've always treated me like an annoying little kid." I muttered.


"But you were an annoying little kid." He laughed, fixing the tape. "Every time I'd come home you guys would be messing around the house, being loud. Can you blame me?"


"So why am I here now? You don't mind talking to the annoying little girl anymore or what?" I asked, a light chuckle leaving my lips as I did so.


He looked at me, abandoning the cassette for a second. "You're not a little girl anymore." The way he said it, putting so much significance into his words, made my breath stop. He held his gaze on me and all the humour disappeared suddenly. His eyes danced across my lying figure, making me squirm uncomfortably. "God, I didn't even recognize you at Frankie's party, you know." He laughed again, shaking his head.


I sat up on the bed, leaning my torso against the headboard. I cleared my throat gently, closing the book. I wasn't sure what exactly he meant by all that and I definitely wasn't going to ask about it. Seeing my reaction, Gerard didn't say anything. He pushed the tape in and pressed a button, allowing Bowie to fill the room with his voice once again.


I observed Gerard as he went back to his sketches, thinking about how different he acts every single time I see him. He's one confusing guy but for some reason, I found that appealing about him. Completely out of the blue, my fourteen year old self came back to me, reminding me of how I used to look up to him, interpreting his bad boy behaviours as something attractive. For the first time in years, I could see where Hayley was coming from.


I put my head over my folded arms, getting comfortable on his airy pillow. Staring at him, I noticed how he rubbed his eyes every once in a while, yawning in between. He didn't stop working though. I, on the other hand, granted my eyes a rest for a minute, getting lost in the song. The comforting smell of his beddings calmed me down completely. Whatever it was that Donna was using to wash the boys' stuff with, she had been using it for years and it reminded me of my childhood more than what my mum was using. Over the sound of the radio, I could still make out the subtle strokes of the graphite against the page which I found oddly soothing. I imagined all the lines that Gerard was putting onto the page along with the sound of it which probably pushed me over the edge of tiredness. I fought the sleep with all my might, promising myself that I was only taking a break from reading but before I knew it, I started drifting off.



I have no idea how long I had been napping for when I felt the cushions around me shift. I was too tired to look up and see what was going on. I got no sleep the previous night and this bed felt too comfy for me to open my eyes. I felt the book being pulled from underneath my body and something soft being thrown over me. Suddenly my body was engulfed in warmth, making it even more comfortable. Then I heard a long sigh and feet shuffling on the carpet which brought me back to my senses. There was no music playing now, the only thing I could hear was a subtle hum of the tape player. I peeked an eye from underneath the curtain of my hair, scanning my surroundings to see Gerard plunking down on his chair, opening the book. I looked at my body to see that he put a blanket over me.


I couldn't help the small flutter of my heart when I fully grasped his caring actions. I couldn't believe that Gerard Way just put a blanket over me in his bedroom. I mean, only weeks ago I wouldn't have even dreamed about coming in here ever again.


I focused my gaze on him again. His back was facing me but I could see that he was running his fingers over the pages filled with small paintings, outlining each and every one of them. He was doing it slowly, it actually seemed like he could feel the flowers with his fingers. Suddenly he shut the book closed, putting his head in his hand. I didn't know what was going on until the room was filled with the sound of shaky breathing and very muffled sobs.


My heart stopped. The mood flipped from zero to a hundred in a matter of seconds. I could see his shoulders coming up and down as he was fighting the emotions inside of him. He was probably trying not to wake me up. Gerard was clutching the book like his life depended on it. In that moment, I felt rage for what my sister had done to us, for the first time in a while. I was silently lying there, watching him, knowing that I couldn't come up to him now. If he wanted to talk to me, he would have woken me up. To him, I was asleep.


A deep frown was forming on my forehead when he started tugging on his left sleeve, pulling it down. I was confused until -


I had to bite the pillow to stop the gasp that was about to escape my lips. My eyes widened at the sight of this. On his forearm there were tangles of silver lines, crossed over with a few bright scarlet ones. The same colour as those poppies. My eyes welled up with tears. All I could hear in that moment was my heartbeat pounding in my ears.


Do I look away? Do I pretend I had not seen this? What do I do? Regardless, I was completely paralyzed from the scene that I couldn't do anything. There was so much on my mind right now. I hated seeing any sort of cuts on human skin, mine or someone else's, no matter how deep or long they were. I swear I could feel every single blade from just looking at him.


Gerard was running his fingers over the lines just like he did a minute ago with the poppies, tracing every single one. I was shaking under the blanket, desperate to end this moment of hell. Suddenly as if on cue, Gerard shot up from his seat, darting towards the stairs. As soon as he left his bedroom, I sat up in his bed. As I did so, a silent tear fell down my cheek. I was breathing heavily, trying to comprehend everything that I had just seen.


This was Gerard in a completely new light. How do I even face him after this? How do I continue being normal around him, knowing what he's doing to himself? How the hell do I stop this? I knew one thing though. From the way I was feeling right now, tearful and scared, I knew that I cared for Gerard and I couldn't kid myself about this anymore.

Notes