JIMMY:
He crouched down beside me with a gentle smile. "Hi," he offered softly. "Are you alright?" His voice was low and smooth. "My name is Xavier, we met before," he continued, but I didn't respond. Despite his claim of familiarity, I do not know him. If we went to the same school, then it would mean that we had never spoken to each other before, making it a bit strange that he would walk up to me out of the blue and offer to help.
I shrugged my shoulders noncommittally and replied, "No... Yes, I'm okay."
"Hmm, alright," said Xavier, seemingly satisfied with my answer. He stood up and extended his hand to help me get on my feet. It was the first time anyone had offered me a hand, and I wondered if it was okay for me to take it. "Come on!" He encouraged, and this time I took his hand as he gently helped me to my feet. "You're soaked! You need dry clothes and some bandages for your wounds... Come, follow me!" he exclaimed cheerfully before turning on his heel and walking away.
I pondered for a moment whether to follow him or not. But he seemed like a much-needed distraction. Hanging out with him for a while would at least delay my return home, so I welcomed it. Anything to stay out a little longer, at least until I was certain they had both gone to sleep.
I followed Xavier, feeling another shiver rack through my body as I took my first step. The cold must be getting to me now. Glancing down at my bare arms and legs stained with mud and blood, I felt a pang of discomfort.
"Here," Xavier offered his jacket, and I blinked for a second before accepting it hesitantly. Sliding my arms through the sleeves, I let the jacket rest comfortably on my back, zipping it closed. Once snug around me, I felt engulfed in warmth, causing me to relax for a moment. The jacket was bigger on me, making it all the more perfect for keeping me warm. Xavier's jacket smelled divine, and I inhaled his sweet scent, filling my lungs with calmness, and easing my aches.
Realizing I hadn't yet thanked him for his kindness, I looked up at Xavier and smiled weakly. "Thank you," I said quietly. He grinned widely and nodded as he led the way to his house.
"I live just a little way past the bridge. I like to run after it rains," He spoke calmly as he walked ahead of me, trudging slowly behind him, still holding onto the jacket as though it was a lifeline to reality. The houses lining the street became more sparse as Xavier continued on his way, leading us closer to the bridge and eventually crossing it. "So, do you mind if I ask who gave you those?" He asked, gesturing to the injuries on my arms and legs with a concerned look.
I mentally prepared myself for his reaction. "My Dad," I said softly.
Xavier frowned slightly, his lips forming a bitter straight line. "Why would he beat you this much?" he asked angrily.
I lowered my eyes and clenched my teeth tightly together. 'I'm worthless and a disappointment... oh, and a mother killer.' Those were the words I wanted to scream at him, to tell him that I deserved everything I received. Instead, I swallowed the words back into my chest and replied, "As if I know." Xavier's frown deepened, but he didn't press the matter, continuing to walk until we finally came to a stop at a small fence, in front of a very beautiful house.
***
The yard was large and well-maintained, filled with roses of different colors covering every inch with soft petals. Trees of oak, holly, elm, and cedar grew gracefully, adding an elegant touch to the surroundings. A wooden bench sat under a cedar tree, and the porch lights illuminated the house with a warm and comforting glow. A white picket fence surrounded the entire property, neatly trimmed with rose bushes on both sides. The gate, painted a deep shade of green, opened into a welcoming garden.
"Welcome to my house," Xavier said, opening the gates and gesturing for me to come inside.
I followed him, still keeping my gaze downward. "You live here?" I asked, taking in the beauty of the property. The land seems to stretch on forever.
Xavier nodded. "Yes, do you want to come in?" he invited, leading me toward the white door adorned with flower vases on either side.
As we entered the house, passing through a spacious living room into the kitchen, I noticed the round table and two chairs, with a large island and various kitchen essentials neatly arranged in white and gold. Through a long window, I could see the backyard with trees swaying in the wind and flowers dancing gracefully.
Turning my attention to the left side of the kitchen, I noticed a doorway leading to another room. Xavier headed toward an archway on the other side of the kitchen. I followed him, curious about the rest of the house and the warmth it exuded. The gentle sounds of the wind outside and the inviting atmosphere inside made me feel a sense of peace I hadn't experienced in a long time.
As I sat in the kitchen, waiting for Xavier to return, the familiar tune of a song played in the background, evoking memories of my mother humming sweetly while she cooked. I remembered her beautiful voice and missed her deeply. Lost in my thoughts, I was brought back to the present when Xavier entered the room, carrying a set of clean clothes, a towel, and a first aid kit.
"Here you go," He said, placing the items in front of me before handing me the clothes. He instructed me to take a bath and change, promising to prepare something to eat. Gesturing towards the bathroom, he added, "There is no rush. Go ahead."
Gratefully accepting the clothes, I headed to the bathroom. Before closing the door, I turned back to thank Xavier, who cheerfully replied, "You're welcome. Now go ahead and hurry up."
Inside the bathroom, I discarded my ruined bloody clothes into the hamper, turning on the faucet to wash away the grime and sweat from my skin. My reflection in the mirror revealed bruises and marks from my father's abuse, a painful reminder of the past. Opting for a quick clean-up, I used a white towel provided by Xavier, which turned red as I wiped away the dirt and blood. Unable to find a hiding spot for the stained towel, I tucked it under the pile of clothes in the hamper.
Drying my face with the clean towel hanging in the bathroom, I changed into the fresh clothes Xavier had given me. As I stepped out of the bathroom, Xavier was already setting a tray on the dining table. Sitting down, I felt a sharp throb in my aching leg, causing a whimper to escape my lips. Attempting to ease the pain with deep breaths, I found it worsening instead. Suddenly, Xavier appeared behind me, sitting down with a bowl and spoon in hand, ready to offer his help.
"Eat it," He ordered sternly yet kindly as he placed the food in front of me. Stirring the soup with the spoon, the aroma of chicken stock and spices filled the room, enticing my senses. Taking a sip, I found the soup to be delicious, better than any I had tasted before.
"It's really good," I remarked, earning a happy smile from Xavier as he prepared to tend to my bruises. "Thank you," I expressed my gratitude once again.
"You sure say 'Thank You' a lot," He teases with a soft chuckle. "But, you're welcome."
"I'm sorry," I unknowingly apologized, but this time he didn't say a word.
Instructing me not to move, Xavier gently applied ointment and cream to my bruised body, his hands moving with soothing motions. Despite the pain shooting through me, I tried to remain still as he worked diligently. Closing my eyes and biting my lip to endure the discomfort, I felt tears welling up as he carefully treated my bruises.
After cleaning and applying cream to the visible bruises, Xavier stepped back, satisfied with his work. Leaving me for a moment, he returned with a plate of spaghetti with meatballs. However, I found myself unable to eat anymore, fearing the consequences of wasting food. I began to panic. I didn't want to make him mad. I will have to eat it.
Seeing my reluctance, Xavier observed my frail appearance and encouraged me to eat, placing a fork beside me. Feeling the weight of his concern, I hesitantly started to eat, knowing that nourishment was essential for my well-being. Xavier's caring gestures and kind demeanor provided a sense of comfort in a moment of vulnerability, offering a glimmer of hope in a place of solace and safety.
He has been nothing but kind to me, and if he wanted me to eat more than I needed to, the least I could do was show him my appreciation for his kindness. So, I picked up the fork and began to eat. The spaghetti melted on my tongue like butter; by God, what a great cook he is. I had thought I couldn't eat anymore, but now I found myself shoving forkfuls into my mouth.
"So good!" I exclaimed. "Thank you," this time he laughed, shaking his head. "What about your parents?" I inquired.
"They only come home once or twice a month. I take care of myself. You're welcome to stay if you want," He offered, and hesitated, but I didn't press further, continuing to eat. Xavier smiled and observed me as I ate.
I liked seeing him smile and hearing the sound of his laughter. It seemed like a rare occurrence.
"Are you the same age as me?"
"Xavier is twenty-one," he replied and I chuckled at the manner in which he said that.
I thought he was my age, he didn't look like he would be a lot older than me. My eighteenth birthday isn't until a few months. But, if he's older, doesn't it mean he won't be going to my school or sharing a class with me? Then why had he said we had met before? Where and when had we met before? Too many questions, but I didn't wish to ask them.
It is better this way.
After finishing my meal, Xavier once again set the tray aside, picked up the medical kit, and opened it. After rummaging through its contents to find a bandage for my injured leg, he located an antiseptic, dampened a towel, and gently cleaned the wound that had started bleeding again. I winced in pain, squeezing my eyes shut and gripping the edge of the table for support. When I opened my eyes, I noticed Xavier looking at me with concern in his eyes.
"I'm sorry," I murmured as he tended to my wounds.
"For what?" He asked, with a tender smile. "It's your father who should be sorry for doing this to you."
I gazed at him blankly. "You're strange," I softly muttered.
"Am I?" He replied, amused. "Well, that's a new one," he remarked with a laugh. "You're all set!" He exclaimed after finishing dressing my wounds.
I expressed my gratitude, stood up, and headed toward the door. Xavier gently held me back by the wrist, offering me a piece of paper with his phone number written on it.
"Promise you'll give me a call?" He asked, a gentle smile on his face.
The way he said it felt so familiar like I had heard those exact words spoken to me before. The word 'promise' sounded as though it had been said once and I had failed to keep to the promise. It was a strange feeling but one I did not have the time to dwell upon as it was time for me to leave.
I smiled softly. "Okay." With that, I left the kitchen and made my way to the front door. Xavier waited until I closed the door behind me before heading into the bathroom and drawing the curtains.