Chapter 5 MY GHOSTS

Clarissa

I simply couldn't control my tears and now they came out like waterfalls. It was a part of my life that I wanted so badly to forget, to bury so deep in my mind that it would be lost forever.

I wanted my subconscious to repress that tragedy. Sometimes I had nightmares and would still wake up screaming and sweating, but then I would tell myself that I was fine, that I was in the safety of my own home and that no one could hurt me or Skyler anymore.

I never went to therapy, but not because Hannah wouldn't insist on it for me, but because I was sure I could get through it on my own. Never pressed charges against him, though. He was so rich that it was just a waste of time and money. My money.

"Let's go, I have to be in Milena's office in five minutes!" I told her, but I was getting tired. Milena was going to add something about all this, and I knew it. I was grateful for all her help, but sometimes I felt she was getting too involved in my personal stuff.

"Okay, but remember, you're not alone, honey!"

"I know..." I nodded, taking in a tremendous sigh.

During the next five minutes, I retreated to my office. I needed to get my thoughts in order and ask my subconscious to push the pain away once again. Having done that, I grabbed a pen and a notebook and, with confident steps, headed for Milena's office.

She could tell that some of my memories had returned with the assignment she had given me. I just knocked once on the door and she already invited me in.

"Come on in Clarissa!" Her intimidating voice came from inside.

I didn't know why, but this time I was really shaking when I reached for the doorknob. Snap out of it, Clare! I gathered all my self-confidence and walked through the door with my head held high.

"Have a seat, dear!" Milena encouraged me, and her voice seemed to soften.

"Thank you!" I replied, but not as enthusiastically as I would have expected.

Never in my life have I been so shy about choosing a chair to sit in her office. Maybe because I could anticipate what she wanted to talk to me about.

"Clarissa... I know it would be hard for you to carry out this task I've asked you to do. But I trust your instincts and your professionalism as a journalist to get it done" she started with the praise and I was really starting to relax. But she was unaware of the anguish I had endured. Even though I was honest with her for most of my tormented past, so she could hire me, and I could be sure to start a new life without lies.

"Thank you, Milena! I confess it wouldn't be easy, given my past, but it wouldn't be impossible either." I emphasized my situation with the idea that Milena would not cross a certain boundary.

"You know, I didn't choose you for Mr. Trottier at random. In fact, he chose you... in a way!"

"What do you mean by that?" I suddenly asked in one breath.

The room was already spinning as I waited for an answer. I hated when men choose me.

"Clare, he's a star. Fame and all. So, when he heard that Devilish Ink wanted to interview him, he asked to see all the staff who work for the magazine," Milena began her story openly.

"Go on..." I sounded more curious than I would have expected.

"I brought him some pictures of you all. He flipped through the pages and stopped at Hannah first."

"Oh my God! Does she know about this?" I snapped in astonishment.

"Actually, she does. But I regretfully told Mr. Trottier that Hannah was busy with another story, which she is. So, we pointed you out precisely for him to see. He took a long look at you and gave us his approval."

"So that's how I ended up getting into this broadcast reporting? As a backup plan? As someone who fills in the gaps in his wishes?" I snapped again, only this time harder.

"Don't take it that way, Clarissa. Look at it as an opportunity to grow and leave behind the ghosts that haunt you." Milena tried to soften the situation a little, but she made it worse.

"What do you know about my ghosts, Milena? What do you even know about my inner turmoil? I have been honest with you because I needed you to fit me into society, not cure me by throwing in my face the very type that did me the most harm. A man!" I screamed from the depths of my lungs and with every word I shouted, another knife pierced my soul.

"Calm down Clare. I'm doing this for your own good. Music can heal you, and you know that," Milena tried to find justification.

"Music, yes, but not HIM! Not the MAN!"

"He's the man behind the music. He makes it, he creates it... and who knows, maybe he can cure you too!"

And that was the moment I ran out of air. I intended to breathe in, but it was so hard that I had to hold on to my seat to keep from collapsing. Milena didn't even move from where she was standing.

I was trying to stay focused, not burst into tears. In Milena's eyes, tears meant weakness. And the last thing I needed was for her to pity me. I got up from my chair and left the room without looking back.

The reason for her acting like that was unclear to me. I just didn't understand whether she cared about me or wanted to face my demons in the worst possible way, with no love involved.

I finally made it to my office, shut the door and only then the hot tears rolled down like heavy rain trying to wash away my soul. It was no use. My soul was so damaged that perhaps even true love could not heal it.

I kind of got used to the idea of not having a normal relationship soon, not being afraid of everything, every touch, every kiss. Caught up in my thoughts, I could barely hear the soft knock on the door and the worried voice behind it.

"Clare, are you alright? Can I come in?"

"Sure, come in..." I answered her muffled with my face in my hands.

I finally raised my eyes, trying to see her through the curtain of tears forming in my eyes. It was only a matter of seconds, but when I saw Hannah standing there in the doorway, I ran into her arms and surrendered to the pain and sadness, my grief and sorrow.

Off guard, my best friend opened her arms and simply let me in, with no words of comfort. I didn't even need them. Just me in her arms, this simple gesture that always got me back on track.

The only medicine I needed to make me better. And, as always, it worked. My heart slowed its beating and my breathing normalized a little. Then Hannah loosened her embrace and took a long stare into my eyes. Like she was trying to read into my soul.

"I am here for you, do you hear me?" she spoke warmly, cupping my flushed cheeks.

"Thank you, Hannah, I really needed that..."

"Anytime, darling! You know I'm always here for you. What happened in Milena's office that you stormed out like that?"

"We just had a... simple chat, that's all..." I lied, lowering my face.

"I can't believe a simple talk made you run off and cry like that. Come on, Clare, I'm your friend. Talk to me! Please..."

"Well, why didn't you tell me you were Mr. Trottier's first choice?" I began the interrogation by narrowing my eyes.

"First choice?" Hannah repeated, perplexed.

"Yes, for covering the event!"

"Covering the event..." she did it again, only this time I snapped.

"Stop repeating everything I say and give me an honest answer! You knew and didn't tell me? Do I look that fragile to you?"

Millions of questions rose in my mind. Along with anger at being kept in the dark. "Answer me, Hannah! I need to hear this from you! I need to hear this from you!" I insisted, without letting her hide this time.

"What do you want to hear, Clare? That I just wanted to help you? That if you want to confront your demons, you need to face them? You've never had therapy, even though I've asked you every day since that night. I know it was hard for you, but it was your choice. So, I figured music can really heal you! So, I don't expect any thanks from you, but you should at least appreciate the effort I'm making..."

I stood there waiting and listening to Hannah. So weak to move or speak. If only she knew the whole damn truth. If only I could give voice to my genuine fears.

I felt like I had exposed my whole life to the entire world. And now I was being pointed at by everyone I knew. It was so painful and the worst part was that I couldn't get over it. Another river of tears flooded my eyes. I was so tired of crying every day. "I'm so sorry, honey! Clare, I'm sorry I had to dig up what you tried so hard to bury." Hannah apologized, coming a few steps closer.

She was the only person I allowed to get that close to me, so traumatic was that event in the past.

I've softened up a little.

"It's okay. I know you really love me and would do nothing to hurt me. You're the one who has to forgive me. You did everything you could to put my broken life back together, to help me pick up the pieces. But you know that even if we could put them back together, they'll never be the same."

"I know that too, Clare. And I'm not trying to minimize what happened to you. Because whether you like it, it will always be a part of you, of who you are. But I can teach you to walk away from that, make peace and move on. Life is worth living. It was a tragedy what happened, but don't let it get you down. And I will be here for you every step of the way. I can promise you that."

"I know you will, which is why it was hard for me to understand. But now I do. Shall we go home? I can't stay here any longer."

"Of course, sweetie!"

The ride home was quiet yet again. I focused all my thoughts and feelings on the task at hand. Because if I didn't, I'd go crazy. So crazy that I could drop everything and the last thing I wanted was to lock up inside myself again. Or maybe so crazy that if I fell into my terror this time, I might need therapy.

Now it was only a matter of time before I could set out to overcome this nightmare and maybe, just maybe, if it was necessary to fall in love with someone, I could do it if it meant saving myself.