Chapter Six

Viola Point of View

"we accept the love we think we deserve"

I nod at him, feeling relievd by his kindness, so I sit, which is when I see it - my scar. It is long, fills an entire side of my wrist, this makes me freeze, knowing it is out in the open for everyone to see, to see my ugliness.

I am about to leave when he comes with a smile, placing everything before me.

"This is Beans on Toast, Pot Noodles, Bourbon Biscuit and some Scotch Eggs." He says, and I give him a shaky smile, happy when he leaves.

I pick up the Beans on Toast, and nervously begin to eat, which is really awkward because I am trying to conceal my scar, I give up, instead, drop the bill, plus tip and leave.

The next half an hour helps me find my way to Hyde Park. I stare round it, it is wide, so I raise my hand to shield my self from sunlight, then my bangles sparkle, I had to buy ten, five for each hand.

Gingerly, I walk across the Park, staring at everyone, the Families, the Lovers, and realize how lonely I actually am, so I sit under a tree. The weather is cool, I am in the midst of people, but I have never felt so lonely, my heart ache and my eyes blur.

The notion of home is subjective and frankly, it is lost on me, because I don't know where home is supposed to be -- somewhere I feel less broken, somewhere I smile more or just plainly exist, because, I do not have a home anymore, I just want to be left alone in a place where I am quite stable, where I eat and drink, sleep and wake, where my actions are my choice, where there are no instabilities and double insecurities.

Home is a place I can be broken in peace. Perhaps, it is not a place, but a person, either way, I am homeless, hopefully for a while.

I came to London because I thought I could find a home, but I can't. More than often, I call myself a wanderer, drifting from people's lives, perhaps I have lost my touch, but I have not lost my self, I am here, trying, which means for the first time - Dr. Chynna Wei is wrong.

______

"I am due in May." She says, and I smile, truly.

"I feel shitty by the way." She adds and I grin widely.

I stare at her face and she looks different, like how Fiona looked when she was pregnant.

"Violet," She says, with a frown, but there's an edge to her tone.

"I have not talked to you in months, at least give me your full attention."

She is angry, ofcourse she is, I tried to kill myself.

"I am sorry." I say, leaning against the tree.

"It's okay, I didn't mean to sna -- "

"I am sorry, Taliana, I am sorry." I cut her off, feeling the pound of my heart.

She looks at me, and her eyes fill with tears.

"I read the book - All the bright places. That is not your story, Viola. You are not Finch, you are Violet, all the colours in full brightness, and it hurts so much that you can not see yourself how we see you." She quietly cries and I will very much like to blame her tears on the pregnancy and on not that I broke her heart.

"You saved my life, Viola." She dries her tears with a tissue.

"You can't end your life, so what if you are sick, we all are, getting better is what matters, you need to get better, and you need to do it for yourself. Fuck Nina, Fuck everyone, think about yourself, Viola."

"You can rise from the ashes, you can be beautiful, the aftermath of an apocalypse. So, what do you say, take my hands or take your life?" She says, and tears pour out.

"Those are the exact words you said to me, almost four years ago, look at me now, I am beautiful, and so can you."

I say nothing, drying my face, and going over her words -- the aftermath of an apocalypse, of a ruination, I will really like to believe that, but this is my story, and some of us do not get happ endings, we don't get second chances.

"I am having a girl." She says, and I plaster on my rehearsed smile.

"Celia." I say, remembering what she say she will name her daughter.

"You remembered." She says, and I shrug.

"Actually, Celia Clementine." She says, and I freeze.

"You saved my life, Viola." She says, like it is explanation enough, and my heart begins to pound, my ears, hot.

"Please, don't name her after me, I am nothing special, please don. . " I stammer, heaving.

Please don't, I am nothing special, just Violet, a suicidal woman, a sad pathetic mess, a lying mess, a stupid mess, a mess that is riddles in panic attacks, Celia doesn't have to carry the burden of carrying my name, she is innocent and I will taint her.

"I am sorry, Lia, I have to go." I say, getting up, ending the call, then run, I run as fast as I can.

I run faster in hopes that I will be able to outrun the fact that I do not want Celia and Blu having my name because I might not be there to watch them grow, it will really suck having a dead woman's name.

_______

"You went out?" Chynna says, her eyes reading into me. I have been ignoring her calls for days now, but Dee called last night, and I promised, so here I am.

"Yes, to a resturant and Hyde Park." I say, sounding smug.

"Very impressive, Viola." She says, and I nod, despite knowing that it wasn't.

"How did it feel?" She asks, with arched eyebrows.

"Amazing." I say, then cut her off when she wants to speak.

"I have to visit Little Venice and the Museum. Who knows, in a couple of weeks, I might not need you again." I smirk and slam the laptop shut.

I get up, streching and walk to the Kitchen, and get my coffee. I walk to the Library, my bangles clinking. I clean the entire house last night, there were a lot of cobwebs, like it was dead, mirroring me, so I channeled my inner Fiona, and cleaned the entire house, till I was the only trash left.

Damien was supposed to be here this morning, but his meeting got postponed. I won't lie and say that I don't miss my friends, I was going to cook for him, but he is not coming, and I am here alone.

Placing the coffee down, I rub my hands through the book shelf, then pick out Rupi Kaur's Homebody, but put it back. This house was a gift from my girls when I blew the internet by publishing seven books at once.

I stare at the books with my name on it -- Happy, Amongst, Between and Without - a trilogy, Mia Madre, Hurricane and Soulmates. The launch made me a rich woman, I got this house from the girls, books from the boys amongst others.

Eager to escape this overwhelming feeling, I absentmindly pick a book, and shut the door. I am losing my Art, and it is breaking my heart, but there's nothing I can do about it. I am a Writer, I do not force the words, it comes to me, but for the past year I have been blank.

Do you know what it is like to lose the one thing that made you important. I was a Writer, now I am just a used-to-be, overwhelmed by the person I was, confused by the person I am.

For a long time, Writing used to be my Anchor, and now it is gone, just like this house used to be a gift, but now it is a prison.

______

I gulp as I stare round the room, feeling more alone than ever. Like it burns, I drop the book down. I am not a huge fan of Psychological Thrillers, but I picked one, and now, my paranoia is alive and raging.

I shudder, and shake off the feeling that there is a stranger in my window. As a child, I was always scared, terrified that my home would collapse and crush me, or the house will be set on fire, burning me with it.

I was a scared child, afraid of everything, silence, sounds, darkness, light, I had no equilibruim, and died daily in my head everyday. I was powerless and watched as I died. Mom used to comfort me, but she died and it got worse. I thought I'd outgrown it, thought I'd forgetten it, until now, with the walls feeling smaller, closing in, and with me trying to stop it.

The house is on fire, and I am burning. I close my eyes and they feel wet, so I take in a shaky breathe and will myself to be strong.

Faraway, I hear my phone ring and I stiffen, fear clawing at my thoat and ribs. I scarmble in the dark, trying to get to my phone in the chaos.

"Viola." I hear and realize I'd press the answer button without knowing, his voice makes me whimper.

"Violet." There's an urgency in it now, and I cover my mouth, to stifle the sob tearing through me, but it burst out like a dam.

"Viola!" It's a yell now, urgent, vicious.

"Get yourself together." I chant like a mantra, not understanding how I got to the floor, so with shaky hands, I take the phone and look at it, at him, where I see that worry lines all over his forehead, with sweat.

"I can't do this, Viola, I can not be this faraway from you. You can't do this. You can't push us further away, I love you for fucks sake." He snaps, more at himself, than me.

My lips tremble as I cry, everywhere I feel pain. Have you ever felt pain, the blinding kind, the wrecking kind, the killing kind. I am in pain, so much pain, my heart is breaking, my soul is dying. I might be better off dead, but the look on Xavier's face is almost enough to make me want to live.

More than often, I belive I was born broken, I was born sick.

"I am sorry, Xav." I say, cleaning my tears off furiously.

"I don't know," I hiccup, fresh tears pouring out.

"I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Vee." Her voice penetrates the fog all over me, I look at the screen and see her, my voice tremblems, my teeth trembles.

"What have you done to yourself?" She says, eyes clouding with tears.

"Cara." I say, shakily.

"My baby," She smiles through tears, tearing an heartwrecking sob from me at how soft her voice is, how it washes over me, how despite everything I have done she still smiles at me, they all do.

"Look at me, Viola." She says, and I do.

"Do this." She instructs, and I do as she say, fisting my hand and placing it on my chest.

"Hold on." She says, and I nod through tears.

"Hold on a little longer for us, please." She pleas, and I nod, softly hitting my heart with my fist.

"You've always taken care of us, Viola, it is time we do the same." Xav says and I nod.

Paranoia is something I have always struggled with, and as I lay on the floor, in excruciating pain, all I can think about is how scared I still am, how ruined I am, and broken things like me can't be fixed, it's too large a hole to fix, too broken to heal.