deafening.
Han’s especially.
Her silence isn’t just a quiet ride through the woods, enjoying the serene beauty around you while basking in the smells of roadkill behind you. No, her silence is the kind that eats you alive, tearing through you second by second, knowing that the secrets she holds are growing larger with each house you pass, more momentous with each turn, more significant with every rock of gravel that crumbles beneath this van.
We’ve finally picked up her internal quota of roadkill as she turns onto another gravel road, only marked by a tiny green sign with a few numbers on it. The trees disperse themselves as a small house and farm comes into view.
Her words are soft when she finally speaks. “It’s just over here.”
I can’t gauge how she’s feeling at the moment. Is she nervous that she let out too much after the squirrel incident? Is she pulling away, feeling the need to retreat into herself again? Is she sad, possibly thinking of the loss of her mother again?
The phrase she spoke still sits heavy with me, and I wish I knew what was going on in that head of hers.
She finally parks the van behind a decent sized shed near an open field. It’s beautiful out here, peaceful and serene.
“What’s in the shed?” I ask, walking up to the double doors. “Bodies of boyfriends and girlfriends past?”
Ill-timed joke, but fuck it…the weird silence is killing me.
“If only they were so lucky.” She smirks, walking towards me.
I swallow when she reaches me, her body closing the distance. Her chest presses against mine as I gaze down at her playful eyes. So funny how she can switch up like this as if the moment before was nothing. The death at her hands, forgotten like the flip of a switch. Defense mechanism?
All it does is remind me of the first Han I met at the club. Playful, flirty, cheeky, completely putting on a front from the real girl who enjoys the infliction of pain to remind her she’s alive.
She wraps her arms around my waist, leaning her chin against my chest as she smirks up at me, and I can’t help but smile back at her. She’s so fucking sexy, and crazy, and chaotic, and nothing about her is simple. There within lies the attraction for me. I can’t get enough of something I don’t quite understand.
As soon as I’m thinking she’s going to clasp her hands behind my back and hold me to her, I hear the click of a door open behind me. Her brow raises before she says, “I keep them alive to torture them slowly.”
I’m trying to remember to breathe when she laughs her little cracked, sexy laugh.
“Kai.” She sighs, shaking her head. “I sometimes wonder about you. You’re kinda gullible.”
“Pshh, am not.”
That’s all I got in return. I am a dumb blonde, as they say.
She looks at me for a moment with a glimmer in her eye, an appreciative look. She definitely loves me for all my flaws.
“Come on, take a look.”
I turn and see the doors to the shed are open behind me. I duck in and take a step inside as the smell of dust, old wood, and something I’m unfamiliar with, some chemical, perhaps, hits my nose. There, inside the shed, is a small workshop. But not a wood carving workshop where Geppetto comes to fix up his son. No, it’s a taxidermy workshop.
Various animals hang from the small interior; raccoons, ducks, fish, deer heads, you name it. I walk closer toward a desk against the wall, seeing the collection of tools used for the process. It’s creepy as fuck, I’m not even gonna lie.
There is what looks to be the skin of a rat peeled off and hanging on a small wire rack and a stand beneath it, prepped and ready to go. But a heavy layer of dust and cobwebs cover the desk and tools. A clear sign that no one’s been working here for some time.
“Who’s shop is this?” I ask, picking up the skull of a small creature and rolling it between my fingers with my face twisted in disgust.
“Larry’s,” she says with a sigh. “He hasn’t been able to work in…well, he hasn’t worked since his illness progressed. But they still let me come out here and do what I do.” She points her thumb towards the dirt pile behind the shed. The burial grounds.
“Wait,” I say, looking at the collection of mallards hanging against the opposing wall. “Norbert.” My brows knit together and I scratch the top of my head. “This is where your band came from?”
“Yeah.” Her eyes drop to the floor and her lips twist to the side, her expression emotional. “Larry understood me.”
There’s a brief pause in conversation as she peers at the animals, her little fingers touching the tail feathers of a stuffed pheasant. My gaze is stuck on her as she chews on her bottom lip. My beautifully broken queen.
“Anyway, let’s go bury these guys.”
With that, she turns and walks out of the shed, back to the van. Conversation off limits. Emotions gone.
I’m piecing it all together as we dig a large hole in silence. Han, obsessed with death, saving those that can be saved, and ending pain for those who need it. Keeping trophies of her failed attempts by having her buddy Larry stuff and dress them in ornate clothing to deal with the pain of her past.
It frustrates me, though. I thought I’d be the one to understand her more after this trip, but the only thing I’m beginning to understand is that she’s coping in all the wrong ways.
I finish shoveling the dirt onto the pile of smashed, twisted, and mangled animals, dropping the shovel just in time to bend over and vomit in the grass to my left.
“Aww, fuck babe,” Han says, running over to me and rubbing my back. “I didn’t realize you had a weak stomach. I’m sorry, I should’ve done this myself.”
If only she knew the real reason for my vomiting.
“Nah.” I spit, wiping my mouth with a shaking hand. “I’ll be alright.”
My face and neck are burning up. I feel like I’m on fire, and the only way to put me out is to douse myself in the substances I crave. My body hates me at the moment. I want that fucking hit.
“Kai, are you…are you getting sick? I think you’re sick. You were burning up yesterday and now this. Maybe you should sit down.”
“I’m fine,” I say, getting a little irritated.
I’ll blame the killer headache I’m battling. Trying to act normal when feeling anything but is getting exhausting. That and the fact that she cares for me more than herself.
“No, you’re not fine, Kai. You’re sick,” she grabs my hand. “God, you’re shaking.”
Her concern is taking over her. She pulls me back over to the van, rummaging through the back as I rinse my mouth with the mouthwash I brought. Grabbing me a bottle of water, she sits me down on the bed. She wets a hand towel with the water bottle before placing it on my forehead.
“I’m alright, Han, really…just…”
“No, you’re not,” she says firmly, brushing away my attempts to remove the towel.
I’m irritated, agitated, hot, angry, achy, frustrated with her inability to open up to me. Wasn’t that what this trip was supposed to be about? The more I think about it, the more annoyed I become.
“You’re not alright, Kai, let me take care of you,” she says again.
“You’re not alright!” I yell at her.
Her hands drop to her sides, and her face goes blank. She stares at me in confusion.
“You’re not fucking alright!” I say again.
I’m spiraling.
“This,”—I wave my hands in the air—“what we’re doing? Is not alright!”
Losing my shit.
“This is crazy, Han! What you’re doing is crazy!” I sit up on the edge of the bed, tossing the towel in the corner as she backs away from me. “And I want to know why. Why you feel this immense weight on your shoulders? But you don’t do that, do you? You don’t open up about your past. Just bury it along with all these fucking animals, deep in the dirt, beneath the sun, where your past can stay in the past.”
Her face sets into a deep scowl.
“Until it doesn’t. Because that shit haunts you every waking moment, doesn’t it?” I ask, staring straight back at her. “You live with this…this weight, even if you don’t want it. It’s there. It’s your fucking shadow, Han. It goes with you everywhere.”
Her stare turns to ice. Her eyes shooting daggers through me. I should’ve rethought this before visiting the death farm where it’s all too easy to castrate and stuff my limp body, hanging me among the rest of the flock. Big Bird in all his glory.
I take a breath and try to calm myself. “I want to know you, Han. Every fucking part of you. Including the shit you deem unlovable. Because I want to love all of you. But you won’t allow it, will you?”
“All of me,” she calmly repeats. Way too calmly. She laughs through her nose, licking the backs of her teeth while staring at me.
“All of you,” I repeat. “Even the parts of you, you don’t love, Han. The parts you like to pretend don’t exist. But they’re always there. I just want the opportunity to love those parts, too.”
The pain set internally slips through her parted lips in an exacerbated sigh. Her eyes suddenly dart to the floor as she struggles to breathe. She starts slowly backing away from me, her hands raised as she shakes her head, before her voice barely comes out.
“I should’ve never brought you.”
She jumps out of the van, grabbing her canvas bag and slinging it over her shoulders as she walks with a purpose down the dirt path towards the tiny house on the property, her hands pulling at the roots of her hair.
I sigh, running my hands through my hair at her departure. I’m frustrated, sick, feeling helpless, and wanting nothing more than to hold the person in pain who wants nothing to do with me.
I just want this cloud to part. I want the other shoe to drop. I want to know what’s eating her from the inside out. I want to be here for her like no one else can. Understand her in ways no one else will.
After I sit for a few minutes with my thoughts, I grab my overnight bag, close up the van, and head toward the little house, the place I’m assuming we’re cleaning up in.
I push through the wooden door, calling out her name so she knows it’s me. She doesn’t answer, but I hear the faint sound of water running in the distance.
The house, more the size of a cabin, is nice. It’s older, with vintage chairs and a plaid couch, old woven rugs on the floor over the oak floorboards that look like they’ve seen an army on them in their day. There’s an interesting smell of mothballs and lemon that fills my nose.
Old, faded pictures in ornate frames line the walls and there’s a fireplace on the main wall of the living room that’s covered in what looks like old river stone. It’s clear at some point this was someone’s home, but at the moment, the darkness filling the space screams of days without life under this roof.
I set my bag down and walk toward the sound of the shower. Knocking on the door a few times, I push on it and hear the lock click open. Not wasting any time, I step inside. It’s a small bathroom, one with only enough room for a single person shower.
“Han,” I say, leaning my temple against the doorframe, not knowing what else to say.
“Kai, just leave me alone, please!” she calls out desperately.
The desperation in her voice tells me she’s on the edge of breaking. Not a chance in hell I’m leaving now. I sigh and walk forward.
Once in the bathroom, I see the remnants of coke on the counter. I tighten my jaw as my salivary glands literally start releasing at the sight. Suddenly, it’s all I can focus on. I can’t look away. I want to lick the counter clean, rub it all over my gums with my tongue, and finally breathe a sigh of relief at the comfort that would instantly surround me. I scratch my neck before cracking it to the side with my knuckles, remembering why I’m in here.
“Han, I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“Kai, get out!” she shrieks.
“Han, c’mon. I’m sorry.” I repeat, pulling the plaid shower curtain to the side. “I shouldn’t have—”
My stomach drops at the sight of blood, making me instantly panic.
“What the fuck are you doing?!”
She’s lying on the bottom of the shower in only her underwear and t-shirt, a blade in one hand and large cuts on her inner thigh near her artery. The blood oozes down her leg, swirling into the shower drain, mixing and blending with the water as it disappears.
Her eyes widen in fear when she sees me.
“Leave!” she screams.
I grab the knife from her grasp immediately, throwing it into the corner of the bathroom and lift her up under her legs. Picking her up and out of the shower, I walk her over to the counter, where I set her down. Scouring the cabinets like a madman, I drop random things across the linoleum floor until I find the towels. Placing some over her fresh wounds, I force her to hold pressure as I grab her face between my hands, shocking her.
“What the fuck were you doing?! You trying to kill yourself?!” I growl, feeling my nostrils flare.
She can’t do this. I can’t…
“No,” she cries, “I was just…”
“What?!” I shake her face roughly in my hands, angry at the idea that she might actually take her life from me. “What the fuck were you doing?!”
“Stop, Kai,” she cries, wincing her eyes from the pain of my hands.
I feel my jaw tighten, my vision getting blurred by the tears just begging to fall. My voice cracks as I scream at her, “Why, Han?! Why?!”
I shake her head again, splaying her hair across her eyes.
“You’re hurting me,” she cries.
“Why are you doing this?!”
A sob escapes her, and I’m even more angry now. I grip onto her arms and push her against the glass of the mirror behind her.
“Don’t hurt yourself like that!” I yell, my fingers pressing firmly into the skin of her upper arms as I slam her back into the mirror again. “Don’t do it, Han! Don’t you fucking do it!”
I’m freaking out internally. I can’t lose her to herself. I love her way too much. The immediate thought, sending me into a crazed rage.
“Kai, please,” she cries, sealing her eyes tightly from my hold on her.
“I can’t lose you to this! Wake the fuck up! Wake up!”
“I-I was just n-numbing the pain,” she chokes out, sniffling. “N-nothing else works anymore.”
She blinks up at me, her eyes watering, looking more broken than I’ve ever seen her. My chest is heaving as the anger that’s coursing through me slowly simmers and settles. My heart aches in a strange new place. I’m terrified for her. Memories flood my mind of her dead against a concrete floor in my dreams.
I want to shake this out of her. Wake her up to the reality before her. That I’m here now. I can take this load. That she doesn’t need to suffer in silence anymore. But she won’t let me help.
We stare at one another before I pull her into my chest, wrapping my arms tightly around her. She grips my shirt, clutching onto me like her future literally depends on it.
Crying into my chest, I hold her as she releases it all. All her secrets, spilling onto my shirt in the form of tears. I hold her there until she calms, my hand along the back of her head, my breaths calming along with hers as I gently stroke her hair.
“You’re right,” she says, her little voice breaking. “It never leaves. It’s never left me.”
I reach down, pulling back to see her face. She looks up at me, defeated, lost in her demons. They’ve pulled her down into their depths, taking the air from her lungs, the hope from her eyes, the tough exterior holding her together fading into nothing in their presence. She silently lives with her secret.
I pull her wet head against mine, my fingers threading through her hair, kissing her forehead roughly as tears roll down my cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” I say instinctively, my jaw shaking against her skin. “I’m so sorry.”
I don’t even know what I’m sorry for. I’m not sorry I walked in on this. I’m not sorry I stopped her. I’m not even sorry I got rough with her. I just want her to wake up from all of this, and finally let me in before the torment of it all becomes so unbearable that drugs and cutting won’t be enough to numb the pain. Before I lose her to the fight.
Maybe…maybe I’m just sorry because I’ve realized how strong she’s had to be on her own until now.
