Well, yes, you aren't dreaming, dear lector! A new chapter! We're coming close to the end of the first part of this strory...I just have to translate two other chapters...wish me good luck!

This chapter was "betaed" (does this word exist, anyway?) by the lovely Rachizzle !

Happy reading!

stve3 : no, don't worry I won't give up on this story! right now, I have been already preparing the second part of this story...and the revelations won't stop! there other ones in the two last chapters! thank you a lot for your kind review!

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The ballad of despair

Like a good little soldier, I had obeyed. He had said « go back home » and I had gone back home, in turmoil. I could have asked for more explanation. No, I was in automatic. He only had had to give an order and of course I would have gladly followed it. Despite myself. I didn’t know what I was doing.

The day had been packed with so much action. Everything had followed on so quickly. I was already drunk at the finish. I couldn’t think anymore. That was impossible. I was feeling lost again. I was used to it. What to do? What to say? What to think?

« I am. »

Yes, he had done it for fun. Now, I am aware of it. He had fooled me. He had wanted to pull my leg, to make me believe that. So, why does another part of my mind still forgive him, still lap up his words?

I am crazy. I am crazy enough to love him. No way. It is unbelievable. To love him. Is that love? And Jude, in that mess? What can it mean? I have a headache. I need an aspirin. If it goes on like this, I am going to use a whole tube.

« There’s nothing to understand. »

There was nothing to understand when his nails were scratching my back. There was nothing to understand when he was biting my neck, invading my body. There was nothing to understand. I had let him do it. Strangely, I had been even willing.

I was crying with joy. If I had known…I would have stopped him immediately. I would have strangled him. I would have killed him myself. His mouth had been so warm. He had swallowed everything. His fingers had left marks on my hips.

I had forced myself to stay silent. It was like a game for him. His hair was so soft. I had forgotten everything at this moment, why I had come, the questions that still remained, the answers I was looking for. I was only thinking about him. I was crazy, yes, really crazy. I had even whispered his name. I didn’t think until then I was able to do that.

He was gentle, considerate. Sometimes, he could be fierce and violent. I got out of my mind because of that contradiction. My eyes were popping out of my head. My body was tensing up because of that swaying. The blood in my veins was singing.

He didn’t ask me to return the favor. He didn’t want me to touch him. I had felt dirty, after. I had felt so ashamed. I had shuffled back home.

Do you think it is impossible? Do you think it is absolutely twisted? I do think too that my brain is full of holes, like cheese. Someone as gentle as Jude, I give him punches. Someone as cruel as Jeff, I welcome him with open arms. So, I’d better not try to explain myself. There is nothing to explain.

Have you ever felt that surprising indifference? I hadn’t been guided by my conscience, at that moment. Instinct had prevailed. In fact, I am no longer sure anymore that it was instinct. I don’t know what it was. Maybe I tend to be in complicated situations.

It is as if an invisible force is destroying my reason and my willpower. It is difficult to know what it is, that nagging pain, that link which has tied me to Jeff since the beginning. So, why this kiss with Jude? I had wanted it, to soothe myself, to comfort myself.

Furthermore he is Jeff’s brother. Everything comes down to Jeff, to this demon who doesn’t want to leave me alone, who subjects me to cruel disappointment, betrayal, constant pain.

I cannot leave his side. I hate him so much. It is well-known that hate can be sometimes so close to love. So, where is that clear and distinct limit? People say that they love, but what does it mean really?

They love because they pride themselves on being loved in return? That is so selfish. They love because they are afraid to be alone? They love because they want company and crave for comforting habit? That is again selfishness. They love because it is the done thing to say that they love? But tell me, where is true love in all of that? Where is it?

I push the garden gate open. I have got my fill of philosophical thoughts for the day. It is relaxing to find my own home again. I am tired and the garden is glowing with life. I raise an eyebrow. My mother is in the greenhouse and she is repotting her houseplants.

With her gloves, she is busy putting compost into the pots. I catch myself going towards her. I am walking on the grit of the path, weeding on the way, just for pleasure.

As I open the greenhouse sliding door, my mother turns around. She smiles when she sees me.

I say nonchalantly: « What are you doing? ».

I must admit that it is a silly question, but I need to begin with something.

« They feel uncomfortable inside the house, so I’ll leave them here for the time being », she answers me, very professional-like.

I nod. Then, she goes on speaking while she is pointing out in turn the camellia, the amaryllis, tarragon and parsley seeds, and many other things. I pretend that I am attentive. Honestly, I don’t want to upset her.

« Where have you been this afternoon? », she asks me suddenly.

There is no reproach, only curiosity, I think. Since it will take a long time to explain myself, I take the opportunity of coming out with a banal lie: « I’ve gone to see a friend and I’ve brought him back the lecture notes he’s lent me. ».

She ruffles my hair. I hate it.

« Next time, tell me about it when you go out! I’ve called you several times and you didn’t answer me. I was worried. », she says with gusto.

She goes back to her task. Her hands are hesitant. I don’t know what she is thinking about but it doesn’t look pleasant. I feel oddly guilty.

« Thomas… », she whispers, breaking off the flow of my thoughts.

I hold my breath, as I watch her silently. She removes her gloves absent-mindedly, sighs and then, lays her hand on my shoulder. She starts trembling. Surprise has most probably shown in my face. I dread that she may faint.

Since I am worried, I ask promptly: « What’s the matter? ».

She smiles weakly. She sighs again. At last, she says with great difficulty: «I’m not a good mother. Forgive me. I feel so lost. Everything’s going wrong recently, isn’t it? Anyway, your father… »

I cut her off, sudden anger affecting my legendary phlegm: « Both of you accept things as they are. You never ask yourselves questions. You don’t want to see what is blindingly obvious. I may be a coward, but anyway you…you are the worst. »

I push away her hand from my shoulder brutally, getting ready to leave abruptly. My mother lets out a « Thomas! » full of despair, and holds me captive when she forces a hug. She is crying. Again.

The words are coming to me easily. I don’t bite them back. I don’t pour out abuse. Those words are just sounds, sentences drifting downstream, flooding into the heavy atmosphere of the green house.

« You never want to talk about Elise. You’ve even taken her photo out of the living room. No, it’s as usual. Both of you are selfish. I’ve kept everything. Her clothes, her class notes, her photos, her CDs, her books, her teddies…and I dare look at everything…I rummage…and it’s so hard! No, I’ve never been guilty of whatever it is! You…you’ve said I was a murderer! You! When you can’t even watch a photo of Elise! No! « I’m sorry »! That’s easy! Yes! That’s so easy! »

I am almost shouting these words. I am trembling like her in view of the hurtful intensity of these words.

« I love you both! You’re my children! Don’t ever forget that, Thomas! You are my child! I…I don’t know why it has ended like this! I’ve been aware that there‘s been something unusual going on! And I couldn’t know! You liked your independence! Of course, I was worried! I’m still worried! And Elise…Elise…my little girl…Elise! Forgive me! »

Violent sobs are shaking her chest. Her hands grip my clothes tightly. I have a lump in my throat and unintentionally, I start to stroke her curly hair, the same as Elise. Yes, I have already forgiven her. I am comforting her. Indeed, I bear her a grudge but it hurts so much to see her like that.

She whispers very gently: « Thomas… every night, he talks about his shame, the shame he feels because of us. It’s not good for his image. Thomas…I think he’s abject when he says that kind of things…after all that has happened. He’s revolting. Usually, I excuse him though. I used to think it was my fault, because I didn’t succeed in bringing both of you up well. But now, I’ve finally understood…I can’t stand it…I can’t…He’s said he won’t be home tonight…that bastard…»

Surprised, I look up towards her and I add calmly: « You have an argument? ».

She sighs and nods, showing her acquiescence.

« I’ve had enough of his reprimands, but Thomas…it doesn’t matter. We’re just tense at the moment, very tense…Don’t think about it anymore. »

She strokes my cheek. My world is collapsing, cracking around me, but I tell myself that after all, it was bound to happen one day. I feel even more vulnerable, more uncertain though.

« What’s going to happen, now? », I dare say, in a low voice.

« Why do you want that something has to happen? », she replies to me but I am not deceived by her answer. I look her in the eyes, for a while, and a few precious seconds are passing, charged with innuendos. I feel oddly unconcerned, almost indifferent.

« Thomas…that’s not what is important. I hope…I truly hope that one of theses days you’ll tell me everything, when you feel ready. That day when we picked you up from the school…it was not the first time that they were doing that, indeed? Tell me…Thomas…And those bruises you’ve got sometimes…I…he usually said that it could happen, fights…that you needed to learn how to be a real man…I didn’t know what to do… but now…», she adds and her voice is hesitant, shy, trembling.

She carries on and her determined eyes hardened: «…Now, it’s over, everything…yes, over. »

I say nothing. I think that is too much in one day. I need (again!) to sleep. I need peace and quiet. I move away a little and she is still watching me, with a hint of curiosity in her shining pupils.

« I am tired, mom. », I whisper, feeling defeated. She lets me go away. I raise an eyebrow when I see a weak smile peeping through her lips. I immediately let out a« What? » of incomprehension and boredom.

« It’s been a while since you’ve last called me mom. I’m surprised, that’s all. Have a good rest. I’ll wake you up after for dinner. »

I stifle a yawn and I promptly head for the entrance to the house, for my bedroom. The evening doesn’t last long. Rest, dinner and then, bedtime. I go to bed early. I don’t feel like watching TV. The dark urban landscape, visible from my window, is quite enough to take my mind off. I find myself brooding over today’s events. And, as usual, my head is spinning.

I can’t get the idea out of my mind that something doesn’t fit. Little by little, my doubts are coming back. I can never be sure of anything. I bite my nails, apprehension contracting my poor stomach. I need to call Jude and ask him some questions but I am afraid. I am too afraid. I need to do it, though. For Elise. It urges me on to eventually do something, and a horrible wave of nausea is taking hold of me again. It is not too late. It is not even twenty-one o’clock. I tap in the phone number slowly.

I wait. It is ringing. He still hasn’t picked up the receiver. It is ringing.

The dial tone goes on. I tell myself that perhaps he has gone out. I feel relieved and annoyed at the same time. I hang up. I try again. Maybe I am too impatient. I eventually give up. I sigh and then, I huddle up on my bed. My arms are around my knees. I close my eyes. I don’t like waiting. I have waited so much that I am falling asleep of course. I tell myself that tomorrow will bring to me the answers that I am looking for. That truth…

Indeed, tomorrow …

If only I had known…

Everything had crumbled the following day. It started with a letter written by Jeff. Despair had performed its cruel ballade, together with madness. My saga was a very useless fury. I saw Elise’s smile being blotted out from my mind forever. And after, only the bitterness of tears remained.

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Please tell me what you think of this chapter!

Next chapter is the chapter of revelations...very tear-jerker?