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..::Kate::..
Join Date: Feb 2008
I am currently:  
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Sorry all, I was supposed to have internet access while I was away but it wasn't working properly.
I will be applying to Nottingham, but not until this summer, to start September 2010. I'm hoping to do medicine :) Keele is my first choice though.
The parts of this story featuring Ryan are true, based on my relationship with a very good friend of mine who I no longer speak to. It helps me to sort out my emotions about the relationship we had. The parts in the hospital are fiction, except the conversation with Ryan, which is real.
Thanks for being so patient, hope the update is ok :)
Chapter Twenty-Two
The first thing I noticed was my head. It hurt. And I mean that, every movement made me feel sick. I was thirsty, but I felt too weak to move. The sheets were soft against my skin, caressing me as I lay in the dark. I could hear noises, shouts, faint, coming from outside. The heavy bounce of a basketball on the court down the garden. What time was it? It had to be around midday if people were out playing. I tried to open my eyes, but they were sore from crying, and I gave up, a frustrated moan escaping my lips.
"Chlo?" Someone moved across the room. Lauren. She liften a glass of water from the counter and held it to my lips. I drank carefully, not wanting to tip the water over her. The pounding in my head started to slow, and I was eventually able to stand and make my way into the shower. As the warm water flowed over my skin, I began to remember the events of the night before. It was all I could think about. Ryan was here. What the hell was I going to do?
At breakfast, I kept my eyes down, focusing on my plate. I wasn't eating, I felt too sick for that. What if he came in? I didn't want to see him. I didn't know if i would be able to cope with seeing exactly how far down I had brought him. My amazing boy, the only one I had ever loved, had attacked someone. Killed sommeone. Because of me. It was all my fault.
But he didn't appear through breakfast, and I made my way to the schoolrooms feeling a little better. It was unlikely that he would turn up there, especially not on his first day. My first days at the centre had been a whirl of counselling, and I hadn't seen any of the other residents, so I was pretty certain I wasn't going to be seeing him for some time, long enough to get my head round things anyway. I settled down to start the project the school had sent over for me to work on while I was away.
After about ten minutes, just as I was about to start writing the opening for my research, there was a knock at the door. Jess, one of the nurses at the centre, came in and crossed to talk to Tanya, the tutor, who was working with one of the boys over the other side of the room. After a few quick words, Tanya looked over at me and gestured for me to go with Jess. My stomach sank. There was only one reason I could think of for pulling me out of lessons.
"Listen, Chlo. What we are going to ask you to do is going to be difficult. I understand that. But we really need your help. We would like you to try and talk to Ryan in a pairs therapy session. I know it would be hard, but you would be free to leave at any time, and I really think it would help both of you deal with some of the problems you are facing. What do you think? Will you have a go for me?"
I thought about it, then nodded. I couldn't hide from this for the rest of my life. The sooner I dealt with it, the sooner it was over. At least, I hoped. I took a deep breath, and then opened the door and headed into the room.
The first thing I saw was Ryan. He was sitting on the sofa opposite Bill, and he looked distinctly uncomfortable. The handcuffs were gone, and he rubbed his wrtists unconsciously when he noticed me looking. I made my way over and curled up in the armchair, avoiding his gaze.
"Alright, you two," Bill said with a smile, "there's no need to start things off with such hostility. All I want is for the two of you to start talking to each other. We need to work out where things went wrong, and what we can do to change that."
"Ask him," I muttered under my breath.
"Chloe! Good, you want to start. Right, I want you to tell Ryan exactly how you feel about him. Don't hold back, it won't help you in the long run."
Oh my god, how the hell was I supposed to do this? My feelings for Ryan were so complicated, sometimes even I didn't know how I felt.
"Ryan, Ryan meant everything to me. He was always there for me. When I was having a bad day, when there was nowhere else to turn, I could always speak to him. He never judged me. I know he hates what I do, but I couldn't help it. I never meant to hurt him. But then he changed. He started getting mad at me. He said I could always talk to him if I was struggling, but then he said that I had too many problems to deal with. He yelled at me when I cut. He would stop speaking to me for months on end, and then expect everything to be OK at a moment's notice. I couldn't deal with it, so i stopped eating properly. I don't really know why i though this would help. Just, most of the time, I couldn't be bothered to eat."
I stopped, staring down at my legs. How to say this next bit? I looked up at him.
"I wanted so badly to hate you, Ryan. You were my life, and you treated me like ****. I couldn't cope, and you blamed me for that. But more importantly, I hated myself, because no matter how hard I tried, I still loved you."
"Chloe, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I was stupid, I know. But do you have any idea how hard it is to watch someone you love tearing themselves apart in front of you, and not be able to do a damn thing about it? I tried supporting you. I tried being understanding, listening, getting up at 3am to drive you to A+E. It didn't work. You always carried on regardless. So I tried giving you some space. But I could see you struggling, Chlo, and that was killing me. I couldn't help going back to you, again and again. In the end, I started getting mad, because I felt so helpless. Nothing I did helped. You just wouldn't listen to me. It's not my fault, Chlo. I'm not some superman. I couldn't take all your problems away. You didn't want help."
I sat, numb, as he broke down, sobbing, curled up in the chair. Bill just sat and watched, not interfering. I stood, and crossed to him, perching on the edge of the seat. I took his hand in mine, and he lifted a tear stained face to look at me. I felt the first tear trickle down my cheek, and I kissed him, kissed his eyes, the tip of his nose, his perfect lips. With my mouth pressed to his, I whispered my apology. He was right, it was my problem, and I shouldn't have expected him to deal with it on his own. After all, I couldn't. I resorted to slicing my skin open, watching the blood flow, and not eating for days at a time. He too had cut, but his temper had lead him to murder. And it was all my fault.
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tonight my friend you will drip precious rubies yes precious rubies
