Finding Technicolour Read online

  Later that day Liam messaged me. I was happy to hear from him. I liked that he was so far away. It felt like I wasn’t keeping my secret from him too. At least it was easier to pretend with the distance between us.

  Liam: Hey P what’s going on? Study is boring me so I thought I’d speak to one of my favourite people.

  Me: How many people didn’t respond until u got to me??

  Liam: Ouch!! P u know ur number two.

  Me: 2?!?!

  Liam: Well Mum has to be number one!!

  Me: Aww mama’s boy.

  Liam: Shut up!

  Me: U can’t tell me to shut up Liam. I am keeping ur almost expulsion from our mummy.

  Liam: I take it back … Have u thought any more of the reward u want from me for doing so?

  Me: Actually that hasn’t really been on my mind.

  Liam: What has?

  Me: I told Kai I’ve been going to therapy. He seemed cool with it. But I can’t help but still feel worried.

  Liam: If he starts being stupid about it & treats u differently then he’s not worth your time. You’ve gotta be with someone who likes u for u. & you’re amazing P. Don’t let anyone tell u otherwise!

  I began texting a response when Liam sent another message.

  Liam: & when will I be seeing more drawings? I check my inbox every day hoping for an attachment.

  I knew he was exaggerating, but I smiled at the thought of him wanting to see more of my art.

  Liam: Am I gonna have to break into ur art cave to see something?

  No. He couldn’t do that.

  Me: Give it a little time. I’ll send u something soon! X

  Liam: I hope that’s a promise!

  Me: I promise.

  Liam: Well I’ll speak to u soon. I better get back to this assignment. xx

  Me: Has somebody better on ur favourite people list just texted u?

  Liam: There is nobody better/more important than my top 2! Xx

  Me: LOL! Speak soon X

  Later that night I curled up in my bed, wrapped my blankets around me and pretended nothing could hurt me. No nightmares could touch me. But as soon as I closed my eyes and tried my descent into sleep, my phone beeped.

  It was a text from Kai. Worried, I picked up the phone.

  Kai: Dream a little dream of me, Peyton Swift.

  I’d try. And I would. I didn’t want to have those nightmares again.

  Chapter TWENTY

  Kai and I were in the kitchen. His hair was tied in a loose bun. Ever since I’d met him it seemed as though he’d been trying out different styles – but everything suited him.

  He rubbed his hands together. “So, what are we making for lunch? I’m starving.”

  Kai and I moved around the kitchen as we prepared a meal. I instructed him on where to find the correct utensils and saucepans, and together we chopped vegetables, boiled water, heated sauce and cooked pasta. As I stirred the sauce, the bright colours of the vegetables overwhelmed me. I glanced at Kai, to find him already staring at me. Quickly averting my attention back to the cooking food, I felt trapped between colours. It was impossible not to recognise that my and Kai’s natural chemistry mirrored the brightness of the food in the saucepans.

  “Do you wanna hear a joke?” Kai asked.

  I shyly looked at him. “OK then.”

  “A mushroom walks into a bar, the bartender says, ‘Hey, you can’t drink here.’ Mushroom says, ‘Why not, I’m a Fun-gi!’”

  A smile spread across my face.

  “Did you like that one?”

  “It wasn’t too bad.”

  “Do you want another?”

  I nodded. “Go on then.”

  “What do you call a fake noodle?”

  I softly shook my head. “I don’t know.”

  “An impasta!”

  “Those jokes are so lame!” I laughed. The sound escaped as if it were natural. It felt good to release that energy.

  This was the way I used to be. I wanted to be like this more. I wanted to feel this more. There were times throughout the day, too many to count, when I question myself, analyse my actions and thought patterns. What happened to me changed me so drastically. And now I wondered whether it was OK for me to be happy. Content. Was it wrong to let myself go?

  Right now, Kai was the only one in my life who I could almost be my old self with. His presence rang with safety and I wanted that around. He was no longer just a distraction or a replacement for my self-inflicted pain. He was becoming more.

  I stopped myself thinking about the acceptance of light. I shut my happiness off. Crawled back into my shell and huddled behind my armoured walls.

  “It’s OK to laugh, you know,” Kai said.

  I didn’t know if that was true. I didn’t even fathom a response. I was uncertain whether it was OK for me to laugh. Whether it was OK for me to feel cheerful. I was still unprepared to risk it.

  I focused on the food. Turned off the stove and began to dish out our lunch. We ate with a side of controlled conversation. It was my fault things between us were slightly awkward. I had pushed him away because of the darkness I craved. It seemed Kai didn’t care – about any of it. He seemed to be built of patience.

  Maybe he didn’t think I was a freak.

  Our empty bowls were in front of us. Still the air stirred with the rich smell of tomato, garlic and parmesan cheese. Kai’s eyes appeared locked on me. Something itching at his chest. Burning at his throat. I opened my mouth, about to ask if he was OK, but before I could, he began to talk.

  “I know you want to know about my family … And if it’s OK with you, I’d like to tell you now.”

  I nodded. I hadn’t expected it to happen that day, but if he was ready to share it with me, I had to be ready to listen.

  “There’s no easy way to say any of this, so I’m just going to speak it the best way I can.”

  I braced myself. Was it really what I wanted? I was ill equipped.

  Kai took a breath then licked his lips. “Um, so … I grew up in an abusive household. I watched my dad beat my mum from before I learnt to walk. He drank too much too often. He let his frustrations out on my mum whenever he felt like it.”

  My heart slowed. I felt sympathy rise to the surface as if it were about to ooze out of my pores. I sensed it growing in my eyes. I hoped he hadn’t noticed. He probably wouldn’t want it. Just like I didn’t want it from him.

  “I was about five when he hit me the first time. I remember waking up to bruises that hurt even before I moved. Mum wasn’t home when it happened, and later that night she found out. I remember them getting into a fight about it, a screaming match. I lay in bed covering my ears. I shut my eyes tight and tried to pretend I was somewhere else. The next morning I saw her with a swollen black eye. I felt like it was my fault and I didn’t know how to make it better.

  “Mum would always put on a brave face when she was in front of me. Her smile was the only thing that made me feel safe. When I was about eight, she tried to leave him. She packed a suitcase and we went to this motel, but somehow he found us. I don’t remember how it happened, but we went back home … I hated it there. I hated my dad and what he did to us. What he did to Mum.”

  I never thought Kai was perfect, but seeing his colours somewhat fading right in front of me, showed just how much of an impact his childhood had on him and the type of person he was because of it. Somehow he’d made light of his situation. He’d kept colour in his world. I held onto the thin hope that maybe, one day, I could too.

  “A few months later, Mum told me I was going to be a big brother. I remember feeling worried for how things would change when the baby arrived. How my dad would be … But Mum was the happiest I’d seen her in a long time. When I saw that something was growing inside her, I became excited too. I’d help rub that gel stuff on her stomach to stop her getting stretch marks, and I was filled with more joy each time I felt the baby kick. Mum took my hand and placed it in the exact spot it needed to be and I would pretend I
was an explorer finding the best treasure there was. As the months passed I couldn’t wait to meet the baby. She told me it was a girl. I decided I was going to be better than my dad. I wanted to always keep her safe. Be there whenever she needed me. I already loved her and I hadn’t even met her.”

  I watched as Kai lit up. It wasn’t the brightest I’d ever seen him. His colours weren’t solid. But it was the first time – other than when he spoke about the way he felt about his mum – that he’d shown a spark of happiness. His baby sister must have brought magic to their lives. I wanted to meet her. I wanted to see if she was colourful too.

  Kai lent back on the wooden chair, but not in a carefree, cool-guy kind of way. He was stiff. Almost like a deer in headlights. Was he worried about what I was thinking? Did he think this would change the way I saw him?

  He took a breath and released himself back into his story. His darkness.

  “Every night, Dad went out drinking. Mum and I were home alone one night. I was at my happiest when it was just her and me. We used to play imagination games, like creating shapes with clouds or making up one-word-at-a-time stories in alphabetical order. We never really had much when I was growing up. This one night she bought us a huge box of chocolates. We stuffed our faces with them and couldn’t stop laughing. It was one of the best nights I’d ever had. She put me to bed and I remember falling to sleep with a smile on my face.

  “A loud thumping sound woke me up. It was still dark. I heard Mum screaming, crying. She was begging and Dad was just shouting at her. I jumped out of bed and ran to their room. She was lying on the floor, her face soaked with tears. Dad towered over her but he couldn’t stand still, his body swaying. He stank of cigarettes and alcohol. I remember almost vomiting. I ran to Mum. A pool of blood was spreading over the floor. I didn’t know what to do. Dad started to panic and rolled off excuses. It was like he was speaking to the walls. Mum whispered to me and I ran out of the room and followed her instructions. Minutes later the ambulance showed up and she was rushed to hospital…”

  I listened to every word Kai said and immediately thought the worst. I saw the hurt painted on his face. The hurt I had never expected him to have. When I was around him, he had always been full of colour. Was he decoding his song?

  “Mum lost the baby. My unborn sister had no chance of survival. I felt sick to my stomach knowing that I couldn’t protect her or Mum. It happened during autumn. For a long time autumn just reminded me of death. When Mum was allowed to leave the hospital she packed another bag and that time we left for good.

  “It took a little while, but we found a place of our own, we found our feet. A few years later Mum met a new man. He was so different to my dad; he was kind and caring. She married him and shortly after my little brother and sister were born. It was a new feeling. There was love and genuine happiness. No yelling. No pain. I felt safe. And where we live is a home not a house. I’d never known that before. It was something I thought didn’t exist.

  “A few years ago, my dad came round to our house. It had been about six years since I’d seen him or spoken to him. I don’t know how he found us, but he rang the bell. I answered it and he was just there on our doorstep, as if he had a right to be. Straight away I told him to leave. Told him I’d call the police if he breathed in a way I didn’t want him to. He tried to speak with me, but all the rage and all the hate I’d carried for him rose to the surface. He said he wanted me and Mum to come back; said that he’d changed and become a better man. I didn’t believe him for a second. He touched my arm and I flung him back. Suddenly, he snapped. He became the man I remembered.

  “He started telling me how worthless I was, how I was going to end up just like him. His face was so close to mine. I was waiting to for the stench of alcohol, but it never came. I felt my whole body tense. I pushed him away and told him to get off our property. He took a swing at me, but I dodged it. I clenched my fists and did what I had wanted to do for the longest time. I punched him in the face as hard as I could. He fell to the ground. I’ll never forget the shock on his face. I clutched at his clothes, dragged him up and escorted him to the footpath. Reminded him to never come near Mum, my family, this house, or me ever again. We haven’t seen or heard from him since.

  “When I was just a kid, I promised myself that I would never be like him. I would be a better person, a better man. And If I ever had children, I would be a better father – someone my kids would be proud of. That’s probably one of my biggest fears: me ending up like him.”

  “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I never would’ve imagined …”

  “You couldn’t have known, Peyton. I usually try and dodge the subject. I’m not embarrassed of my mum or the great family I have now. I love my step dad and his son and my little brother and sister. That day you told me how your dad ditched you when you were young it made me realise it was another thing we have in common. And the way you spoke about your mum, how strong she is and how much you love her, it was like you were describing my mum and the way I feel about her. I just hate thinking about my dad and the things he did, the person he is. The things I had to see … I’ve never gone into that much detail with anyone before. You’re really easy to talk to. Thanks for listening.”

  “Don’t ever worry that you’ll be like your dad. You’re nothing like him.”

  “I like to think I’m nothing like him. But sometimes when I look in the mirror he’s all I see.”

  “You’re a better person, Kai. You have so much good in you.”

  “When I was younger, after my baby sister died, to help me and Mum get through things I would keep my left eye closed for as long as I could and only look at the world through my right eye, because that’s the eye I could see heaven with. The place she is. I’d tell Mum that she was OK. That she was safe. That she was waiting for us. I know that probably sounds stupid, but I still do it every so often.”

  I grinned. “That’s not stupid.”

  My heart warmed knowing that he seemed to trust me. I never imagined that he would have been through something like that and still be a person who was so full of light. I wanted to know what Kai was like when he was a kid. It seemed he’d always seen the world through different eyes.

  Chapter TWENTY-ONE

  I knew Dr Wilson was ready for me because there were two full boxes of tissues on the table. I was almost inclined to reach for a couple just in case, but I didn’t think I would be crying that day.

  “How are you today, Peyton?” Dr Wilson asked. His grey eyes were still magical.

  “I’m OK. How are you?”

  “I’m very good, thank you.”

  I wanted him to read me something, anything, just so I could hear his voice instead of mine. But this hour was mine.

  “So the boy I met shared something really personal with me the other day and now it makes me feel like I should share something with him … I want to. At least I think I do … I mean, I already have. I told him about these therapy sessions, even though I’m embarrassed about them. I know I shouldn’t be though. I was worried he would like me less. But we’re still hanging out.” I pulled at my sleeve. Rolled my lips. “There’s something I could share with him and sometimes I think maybe I should. He knows I’m into art and he’s said he wants to see some of my work. But I haven’t got around to showing him anything. I kind of keep dodging that subject, because part of me is still unsure.”

  I could tell Dr Wilson was about to speak. But words escaped my mouth. “Sometimes I think it’s best if I show him my art. You see, words are his thing. And I know he knows drawing and painting is mine, but sometimes I believe he might think a picture isn’t enough, especially after what he just shared with me … Or, if I tell him about that certain moment, then we won’t be the same. And I don’t want him to look at me differently. I don’t know if I could handle that. Not from him … I’m trying to believe that he won’t judge me, but I don’t want to take that chance and then never see him again. I think if I tell him what happened, he
won’t want to get to know me more or be with me.”

  “What happened to you before, Peyton, when you were …”

  “I don’t want you to say the word.”

  “Sorry, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I know you said you don’t want to relive the experience and that you want to forget. But what I wanted to ask was if you had remembered anything more?”

  “There are some things I remember …”

  “Would you feel comfortable telling me? Maybe if you tell me it might be easier to tell this boy. Or show him that artwork.”

  It wasn’t that I didn’t like Dr Wilson. It was just a risk I was still unprepared to take. When I thought about what had happened to me for too long, I would feel like I was drowning. I knew the sessions were confidential and he hadn’t told anyone about my past. But I had to latch onto an idea to convince myself not to share more details with him. I knew if I told Kai he’d keep my secret. He promised he would. But there was also the chance he’d never want to look at me again. Maybe the day of me not seeing his beautiful eyes was coming much faster than I expected.

  “I don’t know if I can tell you. I mean, I know I can but …”

  “But you’re not ready.”

  “No.”

  “And that’s fine, Peyton. Talking about your true feelings is a difficult thing. And when you’re ready to talk, I’m right here.”

  Would I ever be ready to talk?

  The next few days I was at home. Lonely. Before the accident I would just spend the day in my Art Cave and create. I’d play music and stare at the empty pages and canvases, wondering what I would ink upon them. The music would enter my ears and spread through my veins, directing me towards a chromatic creation. I’d gently tip the page or canvas so the watercolours would bead. My fascination always lay with people. Their faces, profiles, smiles and eyes. I wanted to know what they were hiding. I loved intertwining the flow of the paint to create a story in their hair. Layer their eyes, blending my own thoughts, feelings and stories into the piece. The genre I played usually had an impact on the outcome – the colours I’d used, the strength of the lines, the secret I’d conceal – and I liked that. But since I hadn’t even stepped inside my Art Cave, I was bound to my room, the lounge and the kitchen. I didn’t want to spend more time in my room than I had to, because that was the place where I had the nightmares about my past. The darkness I was trying to keep hidden from Mum, Liam. Everyone.