Haven

Raelynn POV:

Having a safe place was a needed necessity when it came to keeping my mental stability stable. My mental psyche was a bit fragile. It was easy for my mother and older sister to pick apart whatever wall I had built up. Throughout the years, it tumbled down far too easily without much effort on their part. Whether they came at me separately to enjoy their own private toture or enjoying their sadistic sport of tag teaming until I was a pitiful, sobbing mess, I was at their mercy day after day.   

Chilling eyes would follow me gleefully as I scurried around fearfully in the house I lived in. Painful jabs and insults would be sent my way without hesitation. I could actually be having a good day. Waking up without my brain muddled with the messy vines I called negative thoughts. It wouldn’t take long for either one of them to plant the seeds to make them return and grow. The nasty words weaved cruelly, tearing apart any positivity I had spouted. 

It was exhausting having to deal with them.

It was exhausting being me.

I slouched in my seat, trying my hardest to huddle deeper in the hoodie I was wearing. The soft furry material that coated the inside my hoodie caressed my skin delicately. A comforting wave of heavy coffee beans and rich leather surrounded me in a soothing cocoon. My hand lazily worked to draw whatever I could to destress my scrambled thoughts. I tuned out the quiet hum around me, gaze focused on every detail that littered my page.

I was slowly being guided into the foggy little bubble. It was troubling that I’m noticing how much harder it is for me to slip into it. I was too scared to venture deep in my vulnerable psyche. Though I was in desperate need to be plunged deep within the bubble, I didn’t want to risk the chance of having it attacked by them. It could completely screw with my mentality. Destroying what little I had left to truly call mine by demolishing my vulnerable bubble.

I sighed.  

I’m just so tired. I long to return to the comfort of my bubble. I long to ease my busy mind into a lulling haze. Reducing myself to a powerless, puddle of softness that desired to be cuddled and taken care of. A happy wish I knew was too far out of my reach. A dream that’s better left being a fantasy than being destroyed by them.

I sighed again.

“Here you go, doll. A big slice of apple pie, a small bowl of chocolate ice cream, and this time blueberry soda.” I peered over my notebook to gawk at the small spread that was laid out before me. A toasty shade of tan dough encased the golden apple chunks and amber colored filling. The small bowl was filled to the brim with three hearty scoops of chocolate ice cream. A tall glass filled with a delicious dark blue liquid and a curly pink bendy straw. “Let me know if you need a refill on anything, okay?”

I nodded shyly, “Thank you.”

With a sweet smile and gentle pat to my head, she wandered off to disappear behind the kitchen door.

I slowly placed my things away, taking my time to observe my surroundings. Unfamiliar strangers scattered here and there, oblivious to my persistent ogling. As they chatted happily with whoever they were dining with or focusing on whatever meal that was presented to them, a pout began to worm its way to my face.  

It started a few months ago. I could remember the day it began as clear as day. I was sitting in this same spot, head deep within my notebook. As my hand furiously worked to draw out my boiling misery, my shoulders trembled as I tried to hold back another bout of tears. 

It was clear to those that dined in the cafe that I was having a bad day. I was desperately close to bursting in hysteric sobs as silent tears streamed down my face. As I reached up to wipe away the salty liquid that stained my face, a woman carefully approached my pathetic form. In her hand was a tray pilled with a large slice of apple pie, a large bowl of chocolate ice cream, and a tall glass of strawberry soda. 

I didn’t notice her until she began to place everything in front of me. I peered up from my fingers, my watery gaze taking in her and everything she was doing. She didn’t appear to be a worker. Instead of dressed in the cafe’s uniform, a cozy brown sweater and worn out blue jeans adorned her slender figure. Her curly brown hair was pulled high in a messy bun as her calming blue pools gazed tenderly at me.

“No need to cry, sweet girl.” She hummed out motherly, “You have someone watching over you that doesn’t like seeing you cry.”

I blinked.

“Enjoy your treat. At his request, if you want anything else, just call for me. My name is Emma.” She tucked the tray under her arm as she spoke. Bright red lips worked its way into a tender smile, “Do you need anything before I leave? Napkins?”

“I’m not-I don’t-” I frowned, “I don’t understand.”

Red lips pursed thoughtfully, “I suppose that this is rather strange. I have to admit that his idea wasn’t really thought out too well. A little rushed. A little more creepy, but the idea and the motivation behind it is undeniably sweet. Can I….?” Her voice trailed off as she motioned towards the empty seat. At my hesitant nod, Emma slid into the otherside of the booth. “I am more than happy to answer questions. Though, I can only answer certain ones. My only requirement is for you to eat. I’m not going to force you to eat everything. A bite will do.”

The possibility of it being poisoned popped into my mind for a moment. That idea lingered as I slowly reached for the awaiting fork. My mind, my heart, everything ached painfully from what I had to go through today. The delicious smell of pie comforted the idea of it being some sort of toxin.

Her calm blue pools warmed as I stuffed the forkful into my mouth. “Why are you being so nice to me? Is that a question I can ask?”

“That I can answer.”

Emma spent the rest of the day with me answering any questions she could. I devoured the pie and ice cream leisurely, absorbing every word that fell out of her mouth. To summarize, I have a secret admirer. She couldn’t really tell me who it was. Any details shared about him were sparse and extremely vague.

My curiosity grew with each visit. I would scour the dinner for any clues whenever Emma presented my usual lunch. I could only guess that he was lurking somewhere, watching as I consumed the treats he paid for. 

My luck, so far, has been everything but good.                        

No one seemed to be out of the ordinary. Familiar and unfamiliar customers seemed to ignore my presence. A fact that I didn’t mind since I wasn’t an attention seeker. You didn’t live the life that I did trying to be one. Best resort was to stick to the shadows and try not to draw any attention towards yourself. 

The sun slowly began to sink into the sky as I slowly ate my meal. Emma would occasionally wander from behind the door, gentle gaze studying my lone form and red lips stretched wide in a motherly smile. Her concern for me was heartwarming. Reminding me that I had another slice of pie waiting if I desired. Asking I needed another scoop of ice cream to my diminishing bowl of chocolate frozen treat. Swapping my empty glass of soda with a freshly filled one without a moment's hesitation.

Her attention and affection was addicting.

She didn’t make it feel like she was only doing it because she was told to. I actually felt like she was interested in me. Whether it came to me being well fed or wondering about my well being, I felt as if she was filling the void that my mother left empty for so long. 

“Looks like you’re done sweetie.” I looked up from my notebook at the sound of Emma’s voice. Her hands worked quickly to gather the dirty dishes that littered my table. She neatly stacked everything to the side, her blue pools flickering up to me. “Are you full? Or would you like some more? Or something else perhaps? My chefs can prepare anything you like if you desire something else.”

“No thank you.” I shook my head, “I’m pretty full.”

A low hum escaped her pursed red lips as she gazed down at me. A fleet of worry sunk into her soft blues as she took in my growing strained smile and fidgeting fingers. Emma smiled something soft and sweet, gesturing towards the empty seat. “May I?”

I shrugged, “Um, sure.” 

I flipped through my drawing book as Emma settled into the padded chair. Gloomy portraits and detailed objects littered each page that I skimmed by. Dark colors was a main theme that I stuck to. Depending on the drawing, a splash of pastel hues or bright colors would decorate the pages. It made me a bit happier to see something vivid and vibrant in the midst of darkness.            

“Are you okay, Raelynn?”

“As I can be. It’s just a little tense at home, you know.” I eyed the half finished sketch that was scrawled on the paper. A rough drawing of a girl sprawled out in a flower field. Thick curls weaving between the honeysuckles and roses and lifeless eyes shaded a dull black. I glanced away, “I need a moment to breathe.”

“Uh-huh.” She hummed, “Do you like to draw?”

“I love it.” I gushed. I honestly wouldn’t know where I would be if I wasn’t able to draw. “It helps.”

Her blue pools softened to a sweet gaze. “I’m happy that it helps.”   

Fingers twirled the sleek pencil in my hand in a fidgety tick. I peered down to take another look at my half finished sketch. The lingering poison slowly began to sprout in my head as I sigh lowly. “Me too.”

“You know, why don’t you stay a bit longer to finish that drawing? You know you're free to stay here as long as you like.” I glanced up as Emma smoothly slid from her seat. She swiftly gathered the dirty dishes that were piled on the table. As she easily balanced the plates and cup with one hand, Emma straightened from her bent pose, red lips spreading warmly. “And I would love to see it finished.”

I knew what she was doing. It wasn’t the first time she’s done and I know it wouldn’t be the last. I’m thankful for the opportunity to stay. Knowing I wouldn’t be forced to leave to my prison eased a bit of the poison that lurked maliciously.      

“Thanks. I guess I’m not as good at concealing my emotions as I think I am.” I giggled awkwardly, “I can show the finished drawing tomorrow. I think I want to color this one.”

“Do whatever makes you comfortable, sweetheart. I know it’ll be worth the wait.” My strained smile turned to a mess of shyness and sweetness at her words. She beamed happily at my smile, ready to turn on her heel to saunter away. “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be near.” 

I waited until she disappeared behind the swinging kitchen door before turning my full attention towards my drawing book. My awkward fumbling of the pencil stopped as I gripped it in a tight hold. Idea’s grew from the toxic darkness that lingered, the pointed tip of the lead carefully sketching a hand grasping an entwined honeysuckle and rose crown.

A flower crown.

A simple smile.

Erasing some of the shaded blackness that colored the eyes.

Yeah, I think I will color this one.