Sweet Soul

I rubbed my lips together, and forced myself to say, “My ASL is rusty, I haven’t used it in a long time.”

Lexi smiled, but put her arm around me. “Like we said, there’s no pressure, Elsie. We’d love your help if you think you can do this. If it’s too much, if all this is too soon for you, then it’s fine. I can take you home and we can figure out something else.”

“We want staff that have personal knowledge of what our girls and boys are going through.” Celesha smiled and intimated, “That’s what we pride ourselves on, truly understanding what our kids talk to us about. We’d love it if you can help, but if you can’t, then that’s just fine too.”

I turned my head to the hallway and saw Clara sitting by the window, staring out at the garden, all alone, and my heart broke. As I stared at the young girl, I found myself saying, “Yes, I want to try and help her.”

Lexi squeezed me tighter. “I’m so proud of you, honey.”

“Thank you,” Celesha said, and I could see the happiness on her pretty face.

I nodded my head when Lexi let me go. “Okay, I’ll be in the other house in my office if you need me, sweetie. I’ll be going home in a few hours. Take the time to wander around and familiarize yourself with the building and what we do. This is all on your terms, so talk to Clara when you want. It’s entirely dependent on when you’re ready. Remember that.”

I nodded my head again. It took me a few minutes to realize I was alone in the hallway. I’d been swept up in a daze of trepidation, and self-doubt. I’d been trying to push the thoughts of Annabelle and those girls from my head.

Feeling a wash of nerves, I crossed my arms around my waist and wandered into a room that was filled with about ten teens. A man sat in the circle, while a young girl was speaking through her tears.

“…he took a picture of me and I didn’t know.” The young girl shook her head, pausing in the middle of the sentence as I walked in. She sniffed and wiped at her eyes. “He sent it to his friends, they sent it to their friends, and by the time I went to school the next day, almost all of the student body had seen me… naked.” The girl covered her eyes, her voice raw with pain. “I couldn’t get away from it all. I was called a slut, a whore. They painted it on my locker, my mom’s car that I’d taken to school. It was all over Facebook, and it never went away.”

“Take your time, Charlotte,” the man soothed. Charlotte took a deep breath.

“Weeks and weeks went by and it never went away. I kept thinking they would forget, that something else would happen to take the attention off me, but it didn’t. My best friends distanced themselves from me. I had no one to sit with at lunch. I had no one to talk to, to confide in… and I couldn’t do it anymore.”

My muscles were frozen as I waited for what came next, but I already knew. Because it had happened to me too. I suspected that every young person in the room knew exactly what came next; only the finer details would be different.

“It was late, and I knew my parents would be asleep. So I took the rope that I’d stolen from my dad’s shed and tied it to the top frame of my bed.” The girl hitched a breath, as another girl beside her rubbed her back in support. That one act of kindness made my eyes prick with tears, then the girl carried on. “My dad had been worried about me, he told me… afterwards. He came into check on me and found me hanging. I woke up in hospital and they brought me here.” Charlotte went quiet, and the man began to speak. I didn’t listen to the rest, the burning in my chest was too much for me to take.

Turning as quickly as I could, I rushed to an exit, pushing through the doors until the cool air washed over my face. I drew in a long breath, letting the winter chill fill my lungs. I stood there, at the edge of the garden, trying to calm down.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but when I turned around, I saw a pair of dark eyes watching me through the glass of the sunroom: Clara.

I ducked my head as she watched me, looking so small and fragile in a large brown chair. I clenched and unclenched my hands, loosening up the fingers, when I forced myself to look Clara in the eyes and sign, “Hello.”

I saw the shock on her face. I saw her sit taller and shuffle to the edge of her seat.  Then I saw her lift her hands, and shyly respond with her own signed, “Hello.”

I smiled. I smiled at how timid she appeared. Like a reflection, I thought, like looking in a mirror.

Clara sat back in her chair, but her attention never strayed away from me. Centering my calm, I trudged a foot forward, then another, and before I knew it, I was walking back inside the house, moving toward the sunroom.

Noises from the therapy sessions faded into the background as I entered the large domed glass room. Empty chairs were positioned round this large space, but only one was occupied—by Clara, overlooking the flowing river beyond the garden.

My panic faded the closer I got to the young girl, and it evaporated as I sat before her. She’s pretty, I thought, as I surveyed her fair skin and long brown hair. She flicked her eyes in my direction, brown eyes that could have been pretty if they weren’t filled with such pain. It’s strange how the eyes can show you so much. I agreed with the saying, ‘eyes are the window to the soul’. And Clara’s soul was broken, I could see it was shredded into pieces.

Clara’s eyes dipped, then focused back on the window. Shaking my hands, I held them in the air and signed, “Hello, Clara.”

Clara’s head turned back to me as my hands moved. Her eyes darted up to my eyes.  For a moment I wondered if I had signed it wrong, or if she didn’t want me here. I worried that I was invading her space.

But a few seconds later, Clara lifted her hands and signed, “Hi.” She paused then added, “Who are you?”

“Elsie,” I signed. “I’m a friend of Lexi’s. I came here today to see the center.” I pointed around the sunroom. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s pretty here,” Clara signed back, and pointed out of the window.

I nodded my head and asked, “You like water?”

“It’s calming. Peaceful,” she signed. I pulled my chair opposite hers, carefully placing myself in her line of sight.

I stared at the water too, now able to hear it’s gentle flowing current through the open window above me. I must have tilted my head up for my good ear to hear it.  Clara’s eyebrows pulled down in confusion.